Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1893-12-16

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"Do you think I could get 1t accepted
dnppilarcR'
But this was in the long ago, when the
house was private mansion, before the
city had crawled upward to encroach on
its suburban retirement, very long be-
fore any one dreamed that the iconoclas-
tic finger of modest responsibility, first
cousin to poverty, would one day steal
the luster from its gliding, the color from
its bricks and convert the strings of am
pie rooms into floors for separate fami-
lies.
The glare from the west turned the
vine pattern on the cotton curtains into
copper. Against them girl leaned, glo-
rifed by the waning splendor. Her arms
were folded restfully en- her breast. Her
gaze was fastened on the gray college
buildings opposite and the green close
which gave such an old world touch to
the street. A deep sparkle rested in her
eyes. She was impatient and sometimes
threw glance down the tree lined pave
ment, where the lights in the street
lamps were beginning to tremble in a
network of leaves.
Two students, arm in arm, fiuttered
past in their quaint gowns and looked
up at her window. They We're talking
of Tom She knew it. They We're say
ing unlzind things of him. Perhaps they
were sneering at what they called his
folly, his audacious worldliness.
Virginia threw back her head, and a
confident smile lifted her cleaning lip.
How they would retract it all some day!
For Tom was not like them. His was an
untamable spirit, only maddened by rig
orous confines,
He had chosen to live with them for
the future. How his young face and
light step would brighten up the placel
1t was sometimes so lonely and quiet
with only her father. 4 vision of win
ter nights around rudy Ere, of deli
cious, slow waning summer evenings on
the balcony, rose before her mind. They
would be happy, she know.
A few feet from the table set for din
ner quaint, yellow keyed melodeon
stood, and here Virginia impulsively
seated herself. Her fingers ficlered over
the keys, the music filled the room, the
fainting light swan in her raised eyes
and rosied her lifted chin.
There was subtle fire, winning soft
ness, in the face. The hazel green eyes
glanced with intense life; a mysterious
smile chung to the lips SO proudly cut.
Her brown hair, holding the cleaning
russell tone seen in some dying leaves,
was drawn up to the crown, where a
fluffy knot gave a chic, stately touch tc
her small head. Incharming consonance
with this warm brunette coioring he1
skin was pale, transparent olive. She
was tall, her figure youthful, independ-
ent, her personality breathing magnetic
strength.
And as she played there, translating
jhe triumphant beauty Of her dreams in.
20 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS that widened he1
harrow life and fed her soul-Tom Ell.
tered unheard. The sonorous chorus
found no echo in his heart. Pale beyond
words, he stood quite still until Virgins
turned to him.
There was no need for speech. She
who knew his every expression, read thc
truth in his face. 1t was pinched witt
the pathetic revolt of the unsuccessful.
She was beside him in q second.
1--WE been waiting for you, Tom
Oh, to press her cheek in a vehement
caress against his ar,n-he looked sc
worn, so desperate! Oh, to whisper that
his pain was hers, for she loved him
loved him! But instead she could only
stand mutely there, her very heart melt
ing within her.
II have failed" he broke forth in &
passionate, trembling whisper. Il an
mad, Virginia. l could tear myself tc
pieces"
He walked to the window and for g
moment hid his face on his arm. But
she did not stir save to lean her open
palms upon the table, as if bracing her
self to speak to him when the first
strength Of his stormy despair had died
Look" he muttered wildly, tearing
the soiled manuscript from an inner
pocket, there it is, pressing like a stone
against my heart. When went into the
theater, Virginia, l felt almost as if
had conquered. When l came out,
walked the streets blind. l was con
scious of nothing but an awful ache and
GOODNESS"
A shade born of intense feeling passed
over Virginia's face. Dare she uttei the
truth that burned her? 1t might seem
cruel to him now, but III the end it would
be merciful.
She moved so that the last bars of day.
light fell upon her face. Her eyes met
his.
"And do you despair so easily she
asked clearly. You are holding out
your hands to fame, and because she
does not push her treasures into youl
blind grasp for your first asking you rail
at her GOODNESS. Success is worth more
than that, Tom. or it's worth nothing"
For my first askingY he stammered
hotly. lis this my first playT'
But in writing the others you only
served an apprenticeship. They were
weak and false-no, don't look angry
Let me tell you the truth now and hell
you if can. Did you write of anything
you knew or felt? Did you look into
your own heart and write? No, Tom
not even in this one did you do that. Ii
is better than the others, but still only d
superficial study. Write of life, Tom
DEAR" she said, and going still nearer tc
him clasped her fierce little hands around
his arm, her accents sounding inspired
on the silence. ''Life.-it is the watch
word of tho new school,"
"You didn't say this before. You lei
me plan and build like the eonceited
dolt | was"
Tom turned away in blind, unreason
ing rage. His kindest critic had gont
over to the enemy. If he had come tc
her suffering from physical wound and
she had struck him in the face, it could
not have seemed more awful than thi:
wanton tearing down of his faith in him
self
would it have been better, wonder
Well, perhaps. But as you read me the
play l saw how you loved it. One dis
couraging sentence spoken then just When
you were thinking of leaving the college
would have panied you too much.
couldn't say it, Tom. l couldn't hurt
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