The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1898-02-13
Il POINT OF VIEW.
CA STORY.)
BY w. Z. CHRISTIAN.

see the light now as if of Il transient
flash of morning glory over moving wa
| ters--a cool light too sometimes-blIt
always deep as if of a twinkle Of lght
! that one sometimes sees from the sur
face of a well Of water away down barely
toucheS with a CLINT even in the
| splendor of noOn--a buried light trying
to break through violet-blue which dark
ems in the evening.
| The sky at its edges had passed
through its afternoon gradations and
variations of tint. it had come
to the violet-breath and slate-and
dcadened silver and threat Of gloom
hues of the growing twilight. The two
had risen from their seat and were al
most up to the great hotel breaking out
here and there in points of light. The
terraces froscoed with palms and dark
reds. with the murmur of piazza-voices
mingled with the sound of the falling
spray of fountains caused them to pause
on the broad concrete walk leading up
to the grand entrance.
THAT, we shall seer exclaimed Err
skinc i'm a Subdued voice again. Listen
Drouillard.
dim end of the long drawing-room.
''Do' You hear. Drouillard? That is
what j came here to hear and she who
is playlng-she is whom l cane even
here to see.
DO YOU hear? She is playing from
one Of the German masterS-'playing:'
No she is communing with the Mas
tar-she does not play-to Il ''sentimen-
taliSt." she communes.
DO you hear Chicago? That note
how she fondles tor rather how she
tenderly lifts into the sense AS if she
were lifting rose-petal slowly with the
lightest touch that she might gradually
catch this full color underneath-and
that group of nOtes-they seenr to have
her own unspoken dreams breathed into
them through her finger-tips-and now
that breadth is kept noble by accompany
ing depth. She fingers so lovingly with
each note until she has coaxed out of
it its last bit of sweetness and then
parts with it in a touch which seems
TO be ver;tabe sigh of parting"
Drouillard stood strangely silent. Had
the day not been so far spent. one might
have detected pallor which even the
most acute crises of tho wheat-pit had
never put upon his face.
let us go where you may see her IN
Observed suggested Erskine.
Drouillari stood motionless, looking
ont toward the stretch of long, broad,
winding river.
a just remorse, Chicago will ever
be followed by keen repentance-and,
without your saying so. YOU are ON yonr
knees to me now for finding one a sent
mn RI 10 m ha IN
might say, an agonizingly, artistic must
cal progress toward a v6icing of that
which cannot be spoken.
The two had passed through
the electric splendor OF the great
onyx-columned lobby and stood
looking down toward the figure in the
subdued light.
And that is why you are here? asked
Drouillard. with hardly concealed emo
ton
Truly" replied Erskine, "and do you
make apology for your 'sentimentalist'
roundup of me?
Truly. do /. my old friend and tried. -
said Drouillard, nor are you u material
list in adoring her as you do. A man
To know her as she is.
And now Droullard for the object of
your missionary-work- have not
said?
Tonight will do for that" said Drou-
lizard in half voice, as he grasped his
friends hand i'm an impulsive way, as
he left Hmm still looking now almost
unconscious of DrOnillard at the woman
that he rapturoIlsly loved.
As DrouiIlard reached one Of the
tete-a-tete porticos. he pressed his hand
hard to his brow, as he looked out to-
ward the grove through which the
two had strolled. His frame shook az
if with a chill OF agony.
My tIod y he exclaimed. bitterly. as
am loyal friend of Jack Erskine, can
| ever bear to tell him that | too camt
here to see Margaret WeStland?