The San Francisco call., 1904-12-16

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season. Die Walkure" was
~ being given with a phenomenal
I cast. and the house was crowded. Even
+ the boxes filled early.
Mrs. Wilmore. gorgeous, fussy, i'm
/ portant in white satin with rows of
emeralds, f1uttered to her seat, care
fully assigning the places for her three
guests. She had brought Mabel with
her for a definite purpose which she
did not mean should miscarry. and as
the girl leaned back in the chair, her
aunt eyed her sharply. But Mabel had
sensel She knew what was expected
Of her and after their talk this after
noon she was not likely to do anything
foolish. Luckily that affair with young
Cortright was ended. And Mrs. VIII
more turned to chat at her ease with
the elderly beau at her shoulder. Music
held no charms for her.
The girl too. stared in but listless
fashion at the stage where Sigmund
lay exhausted by the dying fire. What
significance did it hold for her? Once
she had loved music, but now The
girl shivered slightly, feeling that all
emotion lay dead in her heart. Hence
forth luxury, comfort, was to be her
desire. Glancing up at the gallery
gods, where they leaned in ecstacy, her
lip curled in memory Of the times when
she, too, had sat there. contrasting
those times unfavorably with her pres
ent position. And that cold little room
that she called home!
The man beside her could give all
that heart could wish; the countless re-
sources of immense wealth lay at his
command And tonight she had been
brought here that he might ask her to
share all this. Tamely she sat, await
ing his pleasure. For a moment the
girls pride revolted-a hot flush burned
her face. 1t had not been like this
when Randolph had begged her to wait
for him.
Il love you! I love you!" he had
said, his clear blue young eyes looking
straight into hers. And when l have
won a home l shall come for you"
But that was a year and more ago
now. And matters had been growing
steadily worse with her. First had
come the long illness, using up her
little hoard; then her difficult strug-
gle to resume work. How different
everything would have been If her
father had only lived. Her mother
was a mere vague, beautiful memory.
There was only Aunt Ella left And
Aunt Ella, though she meant to be
kind, was not generous. Then Gran
vile Whitaker had appeared on the
scene and, to her aunts unbounded
triumph, had been captured by the
girls high bred beauty. Thereafter,
morning, noon and night, Aunt Ella
had impressed upon her the duty Of
accepting this opportunity.
Think of all you can do with such
a fortune" she urged. "AIl the peo-
pie you could help" skillfully striking
the effective chords. rAll the good
you could do" And Mabel, tired, ex-
hausted, felt her resistance breaking.
A month ago she had written Ran
dolph a few lines telling him that they
were too poor to marry-that an en-
gagement between them was not fair
to either (Aunt Elias suggestion,
this.) And there had been no an
swer. Somehow she had not expected
him to let her go quite so easily; 1t
was not like him. Aunt Ella must be
right in saying that men forgot light
ly. She had waited, hoping for-she
knew not what But now she felt
that the crisis could be put off no
longer. And, Internationally, she
awaited the crucial moment.
But in spite Of herself the glorious,
wondrous harmonies sweeping through
the orchestra began to assert their an
cient sway. On the stage -Sieglinde all
in white, came creeping down the stair,
and Siegmund sprang TO his feet. The
girl felt the starved sympathies within
her awakening. And then, with a sud
den soft preluding of exquisite sweet
ness, Siegmund broke into the full rush
and swing Of the spring song, Winter
Storms Now Wane to the Winsome
Moons"
The notes poured out in a very food
of exultant joyousness. Mabels throat
contracted. her eyes glowed. Thou art
the spring" rang Sieglinde's rapturous
answer, and the girl, utterly oblivious of
all else, bent forward. her lips parted,
her breath uuickening, absorbed, en-