The Topeka state journal., 1897-07-02
BLIND LOVE.

was about to begin. The church had been
transformed into a concert hall. Draperies
Of red silk covered the walls. The affairs had
been removed and under a large canopy,
supported by columns of antique wood,
the platform was placed upon which 40
musicians, oil blind from birth, had just
taken their places.
In the first row only two seats remained
unoccupied.
"The Princess Gozia is late as usual"
remarked one of the pretty guests, look
ing toward the empty places.
A movement more pronounced, was
made in the crowd at the door and several
ushers hurried there. An old lady came
bustling in, bowling and smiling. She
was without doubt one of the great pa
irons of the institution.
Behind her, leaning on the arm of dis
tinguished looking man, walked the pret-
test of Parisians. Her nationality was
evident, from the blond hair, prettily
curled, to the tips of her small, highly
polished shoes.
"My friend, the Countess Germaine de
Prefaille,'' said the old lady, presenting
her to two or three authorities present.
There were a murmur of voices and the
sound of scraping chairs; then the voices
were lowered as the players began to tune
their instruments. The concert was about
to begin.
"I am SO sorry to tell you," said Prince
Gozia, who had been talking to the leader
of the orchestra, "Gaetano will not be able
to play his variations of Rubinstein's ro-
nance. The young blind girl who plays
it with him was taken sick this morning,
and no one else plays the violin well
enough to take her place"
"Oh, what shame! The concert will
be spoiled. Gaetano is on the programme,
and every one has come to hear him."
The Countess Germaine since her ar
L. .ra-el k1.
group before her-an these eyes without
! sight.
And as they played, absorbed by their
J music, they moved their heads softly,
smilingly, and their cheeks Redeemed with
pleasure, while Gaetano, his large, blank
| eyes fixed before him, moved his bow
| dreamily across his violin.
''They say that you must play" whis-
| pered Prince Gozia, coming close to him
during an intermission.
"But it is impossible. The variations
are difficult, and no one could play them
| without much practice"
| A movement was produced among the
girls at the response of the artist, and then
| one of them stepped forward.
81 will play with you, if you will let
me- she said, her voice trembling slightly.
| Gaetano recognized her voice.
"You, Anita? You? But you have lost
your senses. We are before public aadi-
| ence.'
"But know can do it; am sure OF
myself replied the girl with more firm
| ness in her tone, but as he turned his
| sightless eyes toward her, as though con-
scious of his disdain, her cheeks flushed
hotly.
"An right, then; we'll begin" said he.
| "There is no use drawing attention by de-
| lay. am much afraid the whole thing
! will be a complete f1asco."
| Anita seemed not to have heard. At
| the first chords from the piano which ac-
companied them she raised her violin and
| waited while Gaetano attacked the ro-
| nance.
1t was now Anita's turn. The bow
crossed the strings and there was a sound
| of wings and a murmur which passed.
| She was playing timidly, almost regret
fully, when suddenly, raising her head,
inspired by an intense emotion, Anita,
transfgured, commenced the song.
1t was strange, trembling with truth
| and passion. The notes came plaintively in
| long, vibrating accents. It was as though
: a sigh of sadness came from the little nerv-
GUS fingers, while the violin sang song
| OF love-of love unrequited, disdained,
| with its sufferings, it's jealousies, its hopes.
From the first Gaetano listened with
| bowed head to this song OF revelation.
| This mysterious love-what was it, and on
! whom had it fallenP Who was it she loved
| so? He must know. He raised his violin
| ready to speak in his turn when the sweet
| notes should cease to thrill.
He commenced with an imperious
rhythm. The phrases were hard, arrogant.
| One felt the master who was determined
| to know, who intended penetrating the
| secret of tho heart which palpitated before
| him.
| But suddenly, as though overcome with
| SORROW, he paused, wishing to tell of the
sadness of his life, without light, without
1 ha% %fNl6 Df
his childhood, a sad childhood, where he
| heard others talk of the bright days, of the
| beautiful flowers, of the trees and green
| fields. while he stretched his hands toward
unknown things, trying to solve by touch
| their mystery.
Then one day his life had changed. Art
| had come to his aid, music transported
him to higher regions, where all was
| bright and clear, and he had given it a
part of his heart, but for the other another
god had been waiting, who had just shown
himself in his power, his strength, his un-
| conquera bleness.
| He had never dared listen before, but
| now he must know all. Anita-is it true
| this happiness-is it real? Then mt ore
| solitude, more sadness, and then-Anita,
| who is it that you love
| The phrase ended in this supreme ques-
ton, and Gaetano paused, leaning toward
the young girl, breathless, waiting. There
| was a moments silence, and then a note,
full of hope, full of joy. full of love, made
| itself heard Anita had confessed all her
| secret.
The two now played together duet.
| The world did not exist for them. The
| past, full of agony, was drowned in the
new sentiment which possessed them.
| There was an instant's silence before the
applause broke out, and with it came cries
| of "encore." They did not understand
| that such scene could not be played
| twice.-Chicago News.
| Stoned q Lion to Death.