Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1900-08-09
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THE MADNESS OF LOVE.

: THE MADNESS OF LOVE. :
Q How a Physician Saved Life In =
o an Unprofessional Way. o
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It was springtime and MONDAY, and
the soft breath of the year seemed Ia
den with fragrant promises Of bloom
and color, while over the woods was
stealing q fairylike mantle of green
On such n day and in such a scene
as this Evangeline Rohan felt as
though the world should hold nothing
of strife or pain or ugliness; indeed,
the particular world in which she
moved and breathed and had her being
held little but the surface knowledge
that such things existed, for fate had
favored Evangeline and, not content
with bestowing on her beauty of per
son and mind, had lowered her with
the great gift of song in its divine per.
lection
Now she sauntered down the wind
ing pathway that led from her castle
terrace to the copse beneath.
A man, following her with hesitating
he presented himself too suddenly, took
courage to approach when the trees
yelled them from the castle windows,
and, though she made him welcome by
neither word nor sign, walked at her
side until the whim seized her to seat
herself on a bank and search for the
desultory flowers that We're beginning
to peep here and there.
1t was at this moment that n visitor
who had driven up to the castle in
dogcart descended and asked for Mile,
Rohan.
Il am afraid she is unable to see any
one this morning" said the butler;
"she Is resting for tonight"
DR.. Harrowden knit his brows in per-
pleXity. He remembered that the sing
er had generously offered to throw
open her castle to the public on that
night and TO give the first entertain
ment in her new theater for the benefit
of fund for wounded soldiers.
All the country were clamoring for
tickets. Fabulous prices had been paid
even for standing room, and report
said the diva, having spared no pains
or expense to make the occasion a
success, was about to eclipse herself in
a new part, specially written and COM
II Il 3nff ion,
of "Othello."
THE matter Is q very urgent one"
said DR.. Harrowden, after a pause. Il
have request to make of Mile. Rohan
that can only be made personally. If
you will risk her displeasure and allow
me to make my way to her, | will taks
all the blame. l may say it is ques
ton almost of life and death"
The man, who knew DR.. Harrowder
as one whose reputation, even in a vii
lage practice, gave weight to his words
yielded and, telling him that mademoi
selle had taken the path toward the
copse, led him through the conserva
tory and directed him to the shortest
way.
He came SO suddenly upon the little
clearing where Evangeline was that
neither she nor her companion perceiv
ed him. She was standing up, sin.
gular look on her beautiful face, which
was bereft of its usual color and both
her hands were stretched out before
her as though to ward off something
that she dreaded and that yet fasci.
mated her.
His face, dark eyed, brown skinned
one, with something in its southern in
tensity that marred it's handsomeness,
must have worn a threatening express
sion, for she recoiled with a little cry
Of alarm and, turning, saw DR.. Har-
rowden as he stepped toward her.
"Ah, DOCTOR" she said, a little shak-
en- still, but smiling, cit is a long time
since l have seen you, which speaks
well for my health, though not for my
hospitality. But you are coming to-
night, kopef"
You have asked me to the castle
most kindly" he answered quietly,
''but l am a busy man, as you know,
mademoiselle, and have to deny myself
many pleasures. 1 have ventured to
intrude on you, for which you must
please lay the blame solely on me, be-
cause have a little patient down there
in the village whose recovery seems to
depend entirely on you"
"On mep'
''AIy patient is little child who has
whose one desire, night and day, has
been to hear you sing. We thought it
a delirious fancy that would pass, but
it seems that, had she been well, she
was to have come up to the castle one
day when you sang to the villagers
and that she lost her chance through
this Illness. She raves and weeps al
ternately and Will not sleep, begging
always to be taken to you so that she
might ask you to sing one little song to
her"
'Where is she? Take me to her, doc
tor, and l will sing to her at once"
Half an hour later, with all her soul
in her exquisite voice, she was stand
ing in the cottage singing n song Of
life and love to the bewildered villag-
ers, while the sick child, propped up
by pillows to hear the desire of her
heart, cried out that 1t was an angel
who had come in answer to her pray
ers.
1t was midnight, II hours since Eva
had charmed away the shadow of
death from the village home, and she
was holding a great assembly hushed
and spellbound while her voice, no
longer softened and subdued, rang
with all its glorious power through the
large opera hall which she had lately
added to her castle.
1t was the moment of her crowning
triumph, the moment when Desdemo-
ma. realizing to the full her danger and
the infexible purpose of OtheHo, trans
formed by jealousy into a murderer.
ceases to plead for her life and instead
proudly and passionately declares her
innocence.
Count Devas, the Italian singer who
had already won universal applause
for his wonderful rendering of Othello,
faced her, the madness of rage that
was consuming him portrayed viyidly
In every feature Of his face, in every
movement of his tense, nervous fingers.
There was silence, intense, dead 81
lence, for an instant as Eva's last note