The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1899-12-12

frmness In her tone, but as he turned
MS sightless eyes toward her, as
though conscious of his disdain. her
cheeks flushed holly.
All right, then; we'll begin" said
ne at last, visibly displeased with the
arrangement. There Is no use draw
ing attention by delay. l am much
AFRAID the whole thing will be a com
plete 'iasco."
Anita seemed not to have heard. At
the first chords from the piano which
accompanied them she raised her violin
ana inciining her head sweetly waited
while Gaetano attacked the romance
with his customary virtuosity; he fin
lshed his melodious phrase and wait
ed. 1t was now Anita's turn. The
DOW crossed the strings and there was
a sound OF wings and a murmur which
passed. The notes, soft, very sweet.
fell like drops Of pearl in an adorable
prelude. She was playing timidly, al
most regretfully, when suddenly, rails
ing her head, inspired by an intense
emotion, Anita, TRANSPORTED, COM
menced the song.
II was strange, trembling with truth
and passion; the notes came plaintiye-
| ly In long, vibrating accents; it was as
| though sigh Of sadness came from the
little nervous fingers, while the violin
sung a song Of love unrequited, dis
dained, with its sufferings, it's jealous
les, its hopes. At times the melody
came back, but broken up and almost
| lost in the bitter complaint of weep
ing heart, vibrating with the express
| sion of its sorrows. From the first
Gaetana listened with bowed head 10
| this song Of revelation. This mysteri-
Gus love, what was it, and on whom had
1t fallen? The complaint, growing al
ways more sad, struck him full in the
heart, and a great fear seized him. 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 Anita stopped; before
the audience could express their APP
plause Gaetano had begun. He com
menced with an imperious rhythm; the
phrases We're heard, arrogant. One felt
the master who was determined TO
know, who intended penetrating the
secret of the heart which palpitated be-
fore him. But suddenly, as though
| overcome with sorrow, he paused, wish
ing to tell OF the sadness of his life
without light, without warmth. In
soft, minor tones he told of his child
hood, 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 to-
ward unknown things, trying to solve
by touch their mystery. Always alone,
separated by his infirmity from other
children, he had become sad and bathed
his soul in waves of dependence. Then
one day his life had changed; he was
admitted to the hospital of Saint-Alex-
is, where. among unfortunates like
himself, he had been less miserable
Art had come to his aid; music trans
ported him to higher regions, where all
was bright and clear and he had given
it part of his heart, but for the other
another god had been waiting, who had
just shown himself in his power, his
strength, his unconquerableness.
ne ndQ ACNCA 0dANu AActEA DCAOAC
but now he must know all. Anita
is it true-this happiness-is it real
-? Then more solitude, more sad
ness, and then-Anita, who is it that
you love?
The phrase ended in this supreme
question and Gaetano paused, leaning
toward the young girl. breathless, wait
| ip1 Thara uac q rnopan4's SiIanaa ond
then note full of hope. full of joy,
full of love, made itself heard. Anita
had confessed all her secret.
The two now played together a duet.
in which their hearts vibrated deliri-
ously The plaintive melody appeared
constantly, but transformed into a song
of triumph. The world did not exist
for them; the past. full of agony, was
drowned in the new sentiment which
possessed them. AS the last chord died
away they remembered where they
were and took their places among the
others. There was an instants silence
before the applause broke out, and with
it came cries of encore; they did not
understand that such a scene could not
be played twice.
The Countess Germaine had risen,
and, using the heat of the room as an
excuse, had gone out on the porch
overlooking the garden of the church.
At her feet spread the city of seven
hills; the Tiber rolled silently along;
a light cloud lowered over the city, and
in the distance stretched the green
fields But all this escaped the eyes of
the countess. She felt saddened, hum
bled, by the scene she had just wit
messed, which she alone, perhaps, had
understood and followed with a pas
sionate curiosity. What became of the
affectations of her life before the sub
lime love she had heard expressed
What remained of worldly ambition in
the face of the divine fire lit in the
hearts of two beings so cruelty used by
fate?
Love, what is it? Must one be blind
to know it?"
-. 4. ~