The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1901-09-01

OF the long grass to take of his hat again.
He thought that she made a pretty pic
ture standing by the door, with her hand
shading her eyes from the light. The but
terfiies and little gray moths were flutter-
ing at her feet, the swallows flying over
her head, and a blackbird calling to his
mate in the garden behind her. She was
lonely perhaps, but surely not sad, simple,
but not stupid. Happy with her friends
the winged creatures, and the July flowers.
Alleyne pictured to himself the despair
that would overtake some women friends
of his now in London, if they had TO
change places with this girl. Then he won
dered for how long he himself would be
able to endure such life? His recent ILL
ness had made him yearn for absolute
quiet, but with returning health he knew
that no one more than he would miss the
excitement, the work and the pleasures Of
his daily existence.
Six items on the concert programme had
been disposed of before Aneyne found him
self in the overheated Town Hall. BY good
luck his seat CHANGED to be close to a win
dow, which ne surreptitiously opened ever
wider as time went on. The velvet blue of
the sky was spangled with stars A planet.
white and glittering, kept watch over the
church tower He listened, occasionally
with patience, but more often his eyes and
thoughts wandered. A fat man finished a
song which sang the glories of pig-stick-
ing.
1.-THE boar. the boar, the mighty boar!'
he beloved
He may well say that" thought Alleyne.
sadly. Then a lady in a blue dress, cut
very straight across her thin shoulders,
| played a solo on the mandolin; and after
that, Miss Janey Cunliffe, dressed all in
| white, with pink cheeks and a nervous
| CULVER round her mouth. came shyly for
| ward. She was evidently popular, for the
| applause that greeted her was loud and
| hearty. stout young man, with a red
| face and fair mustache, who sat the
| platform, clapped vehemently with his
| enormous hands. Had Aleyne not already
met Miss Cunliffe, his attention would have
been arrested by the pure quality of her
voice. in timbre like that of boy singer.
| What she lacked was expression. The
pathos Of the words of her song seemed to
have nothing in common with the young
| joyousness Of her notes.
Let us forget we loved each other
much,'' she sang.
Aneyne felt sure that she had never
| loved any one.
Let us sit down upon the daisied grass
And hear the larks, and watch the swal-
lows pass"
He thought of her, lightly smiling,
among the butterflies and the long grasses
Then, for no reason whatever, except that
the hall was oppressively hot, he sighed.
Miss Cunliffe stepped off the platform
her hand being held by the fat young man
| with the broad face. 1t was his turn now
apparently-Alleyne glanced at the pro-
gramme, and observed that his name was
Mr. William Van Ryn. A lady who sat
near the window smiled, nodded and
stamped on the floor with large feet shod
in white satin. The performer bowed gra-
ciously, and he had the unmistakable all
of the popular favorite as he did So His
patriotic stave was greeted with loud
shouts and encOres.
"A grand, noble voice, has he not?" said
the lady of the white shoes to Alleyne.
Yes, and plenty Of it," responded that
gentleman. 'Is he native of the town."
What you don't know young Mr. Var
Ryn? Our bankers son! Why, the family
have been here since-since-when was il
that dreadful Spanish duke prosecuted the
| poor Dutch?''
"Ahl since then, they've been here
| That's very interesting
"And their house, Willy Van Ryn'S
fathers house. Why! it's quite sight fol
the neighborhood, is st. Mildreds! SucI
carving and chimney pieces l myself
don't like such gloomy old things, but nc
doubt it's curiosity The lady gasped
and gazed at the platform again
Meanwhile Mr.. Van Ryn descended will
heavy steps from the dais, and AlleynC
watched him making his way to the side
of the hall where Miss Cunliffe was sit
ting. Then, with a self-satisfied expression
this descendant of the Dutch refugees sal
down by the young girl. Walter Alleynt
glanced at his programme. Shall 1 wait
for her other song?" he asked himself
The room was sitting and the singer OF
the Mighty Boar" was to perform again
Alleyne looked at the starlit sky hesitated
rose and went out into the sweet FRESHNESS:
of the July night