The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1895-04-26

ant humor for few weeks. Then he
began to change. Guilia was the first
to notice it, and 1t sent terror to her
heart. With exquisite anguish she
| realized that her father was getting to
| be an old. old man, and that she soon
must inevitably lose him. Even the
| knowledge that her after-life would be
| spent In the companionship of Tom
| johnson, whom she also adored, could
not comfort her. Often and often she
| tried to imagine what life would be
| after her father with his querulous
| conceited childishness and his gallant
| old-time grace had passed away; but
| each effort to picture such situation
resulted only in failure and flood Of
| tears.
And after the change began to come
| over the old man she could see the end
| approaching. Night after night she
| sat beside him in the restaurant, and
| there WAS woe In her heart as her fin
gers danced merrily over the strings
| when she saw that not even the APP
| plause could rouse him from the
| lethargy of age and weariness and dis
couragement When 'to this indiffer-
ence Pizzi began to add Ill temper and
! sharp words. she knew not what to
make of it and that night she wept for
| hours.
The first real outbreak came one
| evening when Tom Johnson dined with
| them. He brought IL about through
| his clumsy kindliness. AS they sat
at table after the music had ended,
| Tom noticed that the old man seemed
| taciturn and gloomy OF course, ne be-
lieved that the playing mad wearied
| him, and he said:
why don't you stopplaying, signor?
1t wearies you. Guilia alone would
| please as well-why don't you rest?'
Guilia saw the blunder before it had
been fully spoken ana laid warning
hand on Johnson's sleeve; but 1t was
too late. The damage had been done.
For an instant old Pizzi gaZed at
Tom in silence. Then red flush
slowly rose on his yellow old face and
his dull, old eyes took on the bright
ness of wounded pride and quick anger
Tom saw now. too. He quickly tried
| to correct his mistake.
Il beg your pardon, signor," he be-
San " say plt tliS plA iiiaii Nouit nv
| let him finish. He interrupted him
with sputtering which did not i'm
mediately develop into speech. Even
| tually il became the expression of one
| who has been cut to the quick. That's
| it! That's it, he exclaimed. That's
| what you've both wanted! oh, no; it's
not me, the people. want-not me! It's
| Guilia! 81! ST. 81! Guilia! Not
mer'
II really beg your pardon, signor,"
Tom interjected while Guilia tried to
sooth her father as best she could. But
the old mans anger grew instead oof
dwindled. He would not be pacified
His tone grew louder and his face red
der. Finally, in wrath, which drew
the attention of everyone in the res
taurant, he rose ajestically, and,
waving his hand at Tom, commanded:
out of my sight! Out of my sight!
You have insulted me-"
Guilia, almost beside herself in an
| undertone beSeeched Tom to say no
| more, but to do as he was told, and
Tom shamefacedly put on his coat and
hat and went out Of the restaurant
without word.
After he had gone the old man sank
into. his seat again, exhausted. He
would eat no more dinner, and after a
snort time he silently left the restau-
rant with his daughter.
He said never a word to her on the
way home. When they reached the
dark corridors of the studio building
she held her hand out to him as usual
to help him in the darkness. which was
| full of little steps and stairs, but he re-
| jected ii and stumbled on independent
| ly. AS they passed through the gloom
| toward their little rooms a black figure,
which Guilia knew to be the contrite
| Tom, approached and touched her
| hand. She gave his a distressed press
| ing The old man did not notice
The week that followed was weary
one. Not for one moment did Pizzi al
low his resentment to relax He would
not speak to Tom, and once of twice
when that thoroughly humble young
man tried to speak to him he flew into
an almost uncomfortable rage. To
Guilia too, he showed none of the lit
tie love attentions of the past. He was
| the stern parent now-he would no
| longer let her lead. The effort which
| he made to keep his tottering footsteps
and his trembling mind in advance Of
| her strong, young vigor was tremen-
| dous
At the restaurant they played as
usual. One afternoon before they went
there, Guilia noticed a queer, cunning
| expression fit across the old mans
| face. and az they rode down in the
horse car saw sly smile lowering
| around his lips OF late there had often
been Il wild expression in his eyes
which had worried Guilia greatly. Con-
| stantly she watched the old man as a
mother might watch a sick child, puz-
Zling over each expression Of his face,
each infection of his voice. This new
look she could not understand.
| In the midst of their music she
learned what 1t had meant. Pizzi's
slow old mind had concocted a plan for
undoing what he thought was her un-
holy pride. IN the midst of one of
their most difficult numbers ne stopped
| playing. leaving her to finish alone. In
s.antly she understood. He had de-
cided to show her that If he did not
play his pitiful accompaniment the
! people would not applaud; to prove to
her that 1t was his art, not hers, which
| they admired