The Savannah morning news., 1901-12-06
A VIOLIN SOLO.
Copyright. 1901. by Authors Syndicate
BY F. H. LANCASTER.

pack Win poth handS ana Salu Snt
would never. never so much as think
about it, the question of Aunt Euba's
will appeared TO be settled so far as
the Valcombs were concerned.
What Henry Walton said and did, nc
one knew. He was lonely man, liv-
ing somewhere in lodgings, and mad
no confidant.
The Valcombs sighed in secret. Half
a hundred thousand dollars seemed
such a desirable adjunct; but of course
Elanor was right No one wished her
TO make an uncongenial marriage for
the barefaceed purpose of replenishing
the family purse. Still it might not
have beeen uncongenial. If only she
would consent 10 investigate. But at
the suggestion she whirled upon thern.
"Mammon," and then, in direst
scorn: you people must think me
bereft of self-respect"
Later on she set aside heroics and
told them that she would work for
them cheerfully but that she would
not sell herself for pelf. No; not if ten
thousand Aunt Eubas made as many
thousand conditional wills and left the
wealth of the Indies in fee simple. Ana
this, indeed, did settle it.
Elanor returned to town and her
small rooms up six flights, and went to
work on her cartoons with redoubled
energy The rest of the family re-
manned in the country trying to real
lie that Aunt Euba had died at last
and left her namesake-penniless. Their
castles had tumbled about their ears
And Henry Walton? Nobody knew
anything about him, not even where he
lived.
Elanor worked hard, telling herself
between whites that she was not dis
appointed; that she had never expected
10 inherit airy thing from her cranky
relative 1T is nobler to earn ones
bread by the sweat of ones brow than
to live at ease in ones own town
house" But--well. after a series of
rounds with the editors, the sweat of
the brow seemd to be more in evil
dence than either nobleness or bread.
1t was with a distinct sigh that the
young cartoonist put away the re-
nlaines of her simple supper and sank
down on the rug before the fire. And
then it was that she first heard the
violin. Some one in the next room
began playing-a low, sweet reverie
of sound as though the player was
dreaming of other days. Elanor
found herself forgetting the harass-
ing present and drifting backward to
the times of her careless hearted
childhood when she was a wild young
tomboy with all boys sense Of
honor and q. girls willfulness. Well,
she had wound up by drawing car
toons. She was making a. living for
herself and helping the home folk
Not much compared with all those
beautiful poetic ideals of youth, but
still something. This was the frame
of mind that the solo left with her
and she went to bed grateful for con-
tentment.
The next evening she hurried
through her tea and laid down on
the rug in eager anticipation. The
violin did not fail her. Softly, sweet
~ as before, it began it's story. But
it was no longer her story that IT
told. She felt her sympathies yearn-
ing vaguely toward an unknown sad
ness What was it the violin whis
pered of as it faltered on through those
bars of exquisite melancholy? Wood
lands without. songs Of birds, fields OF
flowers, with the hum of bees-lone-
ly, lonelyi--solitude. as of mountains
snow capped and desolate.
1t came to her at last that it was the
heart of the player that had crept into
the violin's song; without pausing to
reflect Elanor felt suddenly sorry for
her unknown neighbor Sympathy
rushed in with gush of warmth and
the violin faltered on. She fell to
dreaming and for the first time in
many months her own ego did not
obscure her vision. Compared to that
lonely life next door, how much had
she to be thankful for!
Evening after evening through that
long, dark winter, the violin's music
stole out upon the siXth-story stiffness,
singing so sweetly its wistful song; and
day by day the girl gained in strength
and purity. The editors no longer re-
ceived her work with a wrinkle be-
tween their brows. but occasionally
their eyes creased at the corners. and
their checks grew larger. Elanor
thanked them with her lips. but her
heart gave it's gratitude to the violin.
one day they met; it was strange
that they had not met before since
both had lived so long on the same
floor. and Elanor did not know that
he was the man who played the vio-
lin. But that night she found a new
note in the solo and the next day she
went about with half-formed convic-
ton that she would speak to him be-
fore she slept.
Sometimes coming events. even
though intangible, do cast fore-warn-
ing shadows. She had just curled her
self up in the freight when his knock
rang against her door.
Come in she called and scrambled
to her feet.
He took her at her word and came
in. closing the door behind him: not
even begging her Ito pardon the intru-
sion"
Il found these in the hall and knew
that they must be yours" he eX-
planned, laying a handful of loose
leaves on the table.
why thank you. When the girl
rlghted up in here to-day she must
have thrown them out as trash"
She made a big mistake. They are
good. ] enjoyed them before l brought
them up. In fact it taxed my homes
~ to part with them"
Nonsense" she laughed. "They are
only in the rough"
Have you any finished work on
hand? | should like to see il IL you
have. OF course / see the papers, but
it is not like seeing the original"
Why, yes" Elanor was a little
dashed by his ease, but she arose to
the occasion and pointed out a slim
package on the table.
They will be submitted tomorrow. -
The violinist drew a chair to the
table and sat down without further
parley.
Thank you so much" he said. ear
nestly, as he opened the wrappings.
Elanor turned on the light and sat
down in the big chair opposite. There
really seemed nothing else for her to
do.
While he pored over the drawings
IN silence and the fire flickered softly,