The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1898-08-17

as ne stood bowling away aream,iy
beside her until grew SO sick with
the jealousy that I left the place and
went home alone, and yet he never
seemed to understand. Truth to
toll, as the weeks went by no one
could have said that either of us had
come within winning distance of
her- sometimes it was l who would
go nome III state of mental intoxi.
cation, while Chris would seem
paler and quieter than usual: then
next time, Chris would come in with
the telltale flush to find me sitting
moody and savage. Never once did
we speak directly of it, but the
shadow was there, thickening every
Gay, and somehow from the first
1t seemed to me that Chris. taken
on his merits alone, would be the
winner in this silent, desperate
struggle.
Desperatei Yes. One night in a
Mt Of pique I had absented myself
from the practice and for hours sat
planning how could make him set
match to the powder. About II
O'Clock he burst in, his face all
aglow.
will, I've just heard the sweet
est bit of music ever written-her
own oomposition-Lottie's, I mean
can hear it nowI 1 caught her
playing it unawares, and what do
you thinkS I've made her promise
to embody it in a violin duet to be
played by you and me at the next
concert. She can do it. She has
written more than one pretty song.
Will! Wilt What is the matter?
What have done2''
had tried to sneer, but it was no
use. When he put his hand on nv
shoulder and softly asked that, I
could only get up and walk from
the room. The lump in my throat
was too great for words. knew
loved him, but I did not know that
hated him too.
Then for month of suspense
we saw nothing of Lottie Arnold.
She was as much an enthusiast as
Chris himself. Having set herself
to the work, her one fear was. T
suppose, that the duo would not be
finished in time. But at last came
letter. It had nearly driven her
mad, she said, but we could Judge
of her success if we called at her
house to try our parts on the fol-
lowing Wednesday evening.
The note was addressed to Chris.
For moment my jealousy famed
up SO that I had almost snatched it
out of his hands as he read it. I
mastered that impulse, but knew
that the crisis was at hand now.
NY brain was in whirl all that
week. Scarcely a word passed be-
tween us. And Chris, as he walked
beside me that Wednesday evening,
seemed to have grown haggard. and
he shifted his violin case from hand
to hand constantly. I think he had
begun to understand.
Reaching the house, we were
shown at once into the sitting room.
and there sat Lottie at piano, sur
rounded by litter Of papers. Per-
haps she, too, realized something at
that moment, for she rose with q
start and heightened color.
'Is it really 2 o'clock9 Iseem to
be left behind the world lately. This
staccato finale has kept me in q
nervous tremble for days. Oh, and
and She hesitated, pluoking
at the velvet band at her throat,
quite cniIdishly for her. Tim
dreadfully sorry, but it isn't to be a
Gnet 81 all. 7 Sound I hadn't poss;-
bly, time to arrange the second part
as well as the accompaniment, SO
II abandoned it, and I really think
1t goes better as solo, A strain
ed, never forgotten pause. Then, be-
coming herself again, she ran for
ward and touched my arm appeal
ingly. You don't mind very much,
do you9" she asked in her sweet |
voice.
All over in breathi I know /
stood stupidity still for q time. un-
able to get syllable past the swell |
ing in my throat, while the floor
seemed to be rocking. So che had |
written the solo-for Chris-and |
with it ended all my dreams. ! !
wanted air. / murmured some !
thing, caught up my violin and |
went mechanically out and down
the stairs. At the door stopped. |
Some one had called me. It was |
Chris, his face white and imploring |
as a frightened woman's.
"Willl'' That was all he said |
huskily as he gripped my arm. I
knew vaguely that it meant "Sooner
than that, you can have the solo,"
But that only maddened me the
more. I shook off his hand and
walked away home.
Three hours later he walked in. /
I think he had been wandering the