The suburban citizen., 1902-09-06
ILTATE'S a fiddler.'
- The little fiddler
u nt..n- 4, i u L. H. .

. lie lllllG uNluleI-Sutu
little tiddler-hung a quick
unchildlike glance around
the packed concert room, drew a long,
unchildlike sigh, and began to play.
First, a gay ripple of music-light and
needless and youthful-then a phrase
or so, subdued and soft and piteous
as the "moan of doves in immemorial
elms," followed by the liquid lament Of
a nightingale. A scurry Of soft notes
like summer rain dropped from the
strings into silence, and the end came
with a repetition Of the child's laugh.
Gypsy, every note of it." an emil
nent scientist said to his daughter, as
she leaned back in her stall with tears
in her soft brown eyes. Gypsy music,
my dear Madge, and played, one would
swear, by a gypsy, but FOR his face.
And his name, too, is pure SaXon-An-
glo-SaXon at that"
1T is, papap his daughter Madge
said, with a swift glance at the little
6ddler, now rendering a wild bazarre
movement, half dance, half march.
IT'S an odd name, too; Godfrith Ak.
don't think like it, and don't think
| like his face, either; it's 50 sallOw and
plain"
Look at his eyes, my dear"
80 l have, and don't want to do
it again, papa; they give me the
creeps," Madge whispered back. But
he's a wonderful player"
AYE, he is that; l wonder where he
comes from? l am interested in his
name; pure Anglo-Saxon, Madge; think
of it,"
Perhaps he's a ghost or something
Of that Sort" commented Madge. flip
PANTY. "Angliclze his name q little,
please, papa; it's too Saxon for me-"
Godfrey Oak; that is the modern
English Of it, my dear; and there is no
verb Anglo said the professor, dryly,
as the violin piece ended, and little
rustic went through the crowded
room. "Yes, that is the last. Come,
Madge, my dear-Why. Hoffman, l
never expected to see you here. And
how is your wife, my dear fellowi"
They were out in the yestibule now,
ind Madge Dormer, paler than her
wont, offered her hand with a smile
10 the spectacled young German her
Gather had taken by the arm.
How is Mrs. Hoffman,? Better, l
pOpe. And your boyT'
CLARA is as well as she ever win be,
Miss Dormer," Ernest Hoffman, said.
not too cordially. "She Will never walk
again, the doctor says, but she is
stronger and patient-she is always
that, you know"
II do know" Madge said, with a
catch in her breath II knew Clara
before you did, Mr.. Hoffman,, and
can bear witness to her sweetness"
You did l beg your pardon, Miss
Dormer." Ernest Hoffman, flushed
O little.
The professor, mildly uneasy, put in
. half apologetic remark, after the
blunderng masculine fashion. "Madge
is very fond of your wife, Hoffman,;
always was, Though all.'
81 appreciate Miss Dormer's dcvo-
ton" Ernest Hoffman, said, with a
stiff bow. Madge held her head erect
and looked at him with an angry light
in her eyes
II appreciate Mr.. Hoffmann's mag
nanimity," she said, icily. Papa, we
shall be late If we don't hurry. Good.
by, Mr.. Hoffman,; my kind love to
Clara. o, by the bye, how Is UlricY
"Ulric is ill.," Ernest Hoffman, said,
shortly. Mr. Dormer. moment Can
you tell me where Godfnth Ak is stay
ing"
"Senor Ludovico is 1t the Alexandra
Hotel and Ak is with him, Of course, "
the professor said, as he turned away,
hurried by the danger signals flying in
his daughters face.
"How she hates men Ernest Hof-
/ mann sighed, as he went through the
| park in the March wind and sunshine.
II suppose she thinks a clerk had no
right to marry her cousin. All. Clara
does not think so-yet. How that lad
/ played-nO wonder Uric dreams of
him. And 1 wonder If he will come
The wonder remained when he sat In
the luxurious sitting room at the Alex.
andra, facing the impressarlo, a big
handsome Italian, with an enormous
beard.
"Yes, his playing is a marvel" Slgnol
Ludoyico said, placidIy scanning Hot