The Montgomery advertiser., 1904-03-16

interest, but their discussions had never touched upon personal topics. nor had he sought to interest her in himself.
 She had come to his studio that morn ing to bid him adieu. vaguely hoping that something-she knew not what--might happen; nothing did, and she half ex- pected to see him at board ship. but she found box of flowers and a polite little note wishing her bon voyage.
 She enjoyed life in Paris to the full, but was quite ready to return home at the end of the year which was the pro- posed expiration of their trip. As the others in their party wished to continue their travels, another year found them still abroad. as-.sss.s
 These two years had not been idle ones with Maurice Cramer. He had finished the composition of an opera that had been life work with him and it had been successfully put on the stage. The hit was tremendous and he had now found himself the Hon of New York drawing rooms, a position he coveted with only one object in view. -.se
 It. was with mingled sensations that he received a note from Christine one morning announcing their return and saying that she would be at the studio at her old lesson hour. which he had kept sacred to her memory.
 At the appointed hour she entered. As he heard the well-remembered knock and the opening of the door, he turned and rose with outstretched hand. Her face was slightly flushed, but the dark eyes looked into his, searchingly, perhaps, but with the old expression of frank kind ness.
 He stood silent, unconscious that he still held her hand. She was like and yet so unlike the Christine of two years ago. A beautiful. stridng-looking wo- man with complexion of the dawn, clear and delicate; her hair of golden hue, her eyes deep and dark.
 The first slight constraint so often felt in the renewal of an intimacy soon dis appeared. They talked of many things reviewing other days, speaking of her travels and her coming plans. He felt her presence leaping like wine to his brain as they talked. Finally he asked her to, sing to him.
 You can't criticise my method,' she said, turning over the scattered music for selection, flor I am the victim of many methods. Every place we visited meant new master-every master a new method. I think I was introduced into the mysteries of all but one. I missed the signor in Florence who required his pu- pills to recline at full length while sing ing. His theory was that people breathed correctly only when in that position"
 Please don't sing" he said with g shudder. q don't want to hear such cosmopolitan production as your voice will be capable of
 1t isn't so bad. You see I only followed their instructions during my lessons. At home in my pricatice I was loyal to my teacher at home and sang as he had taught me-
 He was about to commence the accom- paniment to her song when there was a knock at the door. which Maurice an- swered. When he returned to the piano, he brought a note upon which Christine's eyes fell carelessly; then, recognizing the stationery and crest, she exclaimed:
 Why! Isn't that mammals writing?"
 Yes" he replied, his eyes shining with triumph and something else. she has in- vited me to dine at your house tonight"
 Christin'es eyes sparkled.
 Mamma went daffy over music and musical celebrities while she was away. When we heard of the triumph you had scored I knew you had found the way to her heart"
 Christine, the way to her heart Is but a secondary consideration to me. Its the way to your heart I want to find. Dear. I loved you ever since I gave you your first lesson"
 Maurice" she said. softly. you founG the way to my heart even then"