Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1905-12-27

~FHetsuNSo v46OAousbyb WHY NioiAou
sat, wretched and heart-sick, yet
calm. still holding her music In hands
that did not tremble..
The professor, glancing in her d.
rection with little guilty feeling at
his heart, treasured himself: "She
does not care"
Then they sang, and Marguerite's
voice came out clear and sweet on
every difficult passage. Marion had
never heard her do so we'll. The In
spiration Of the occasion lent her new
strength, and the number closed amid
a deafening round of applause from
the chorus.
The rest Of the rehearsal passed
OF uneyentfully, and at the close Ma
rion hurried away from the condo
lences and comments OF her friends.
Supper was waiting when she got
home, but even her favorite cream
puffs failed to comfort her.
Il late Marguerite Ollis!" she sob
bed. stormily. "She has everything
without an effort, while l. who ask
only for chance to work my own
way am denied that!"
She's a stuck.up snip!" declared
Anna. wiping her own eyes, while Al
fred clenched his fists as II he longed
| to fight It out with somebody.
Marion's mother did not say any
thing at first, only stroked the brown,
head on her shoulder and kissed the
hot hand that trembled IN her grasp.
while Mr.. Wood said tendenly: "There
deame. there!" as IL his eldest born
were once more wee fodder with a
broken doll.
It was after the table had been
cleared and thew sat about the room
with book or needlework that the
mother gave her little talk. Marion
had subsidized into silence after her
outbreak. and Mrs. Wood looked SYM
patheically at the flashing ewes and
st IL uuivertng lips.
"Be fair. daughter" she said.
Don't do yourself the Injustice OF
being unjust to Miss Oils. She was
honestly chosen and deserves no
h,ama We odd - onr own unhan.
piness when we try to satisfy our an
ger by finding fault with others as in.
nocent as we are"
"But she doesn't need this chance.
mother and I do.
True, dear yet YOU couldn't expect
her to refuse the invitation because Of
that. especially when she is ignorant
of the fact. You will look at the mat
| ter differently after the keenness OF
your disannointment has worn off.
can trust Won to he good. dear. and
when Won And the chance TO do a M.
tie Kindness for Mss o,,,s II viii,
helm Won more than # will hern
"Kindness-neyer," declared Ma.
rion. emphaticallv npt Mrs Wood
only smiled wisely and waited
The evening ~ tba concern arrived
Again the great staea wac occnnied
by orchestra and singers evening
dressae ana Apttering7 rihbone trans.
formed the platform into a rainbow
If del,cata Iines with hacl,gro,nd
81 somber Hack where the pentlemen
sat. a.
Between the conductors rostrum
and the auditorium was seated Mad.
anne scarlati the visiting soloist
whose fame had attracted an unusual.
| " large audience
In the front row Of sopranos sat
Marguerite. resnendent IN SIN and
pearls. beside her sat Marion with.
out Jewels or laces vet looking very
sweet in her, simnle gown Of Write
with her ABUNDANT, brown hair ar.
ranged in a coronal and in tts thick.
braids a single crimson rose
The opening chorus was sung mag.
nificently, and at last Madame Scar
Hiatt rose. Hsrh and clear her voice
scared away over the audience. sweet
and soft ii rippled back. to end In a
burst Of melody that carried hearts
by storm. The listeners applauded
with enthusiasm. and Marguerite
spoke.
81 can never do it.,, she said. trem-
ulously.
"Do what? ~ aked Marion. withdraw.
Iirg her fascinated gaze from the
singer and turning II to the male face
at her side. E. e ''3s' s
"That aria. Could i pine Nm nv
Iweak title voice after hearing her?o
II think you VIII be Obliged to-"
replied Marion. colily
@Oh. cannot. Yon do 1t for me.
please. You sing it much better than
i. You should have been chosen in
the first place. Oh, do sing it, I'VE
been getting worse and worse all the
evening. until now I'm almost fright.
ened to death. You must,'
II VIII not,v was the decided reply.
81 shall not crowd myself into the
program uninv.ted.',
"Oh, i know I'm acting silly hut i
never realized what 1t would be. Look
at that dreadful sea Of faces ont
there! And Madame scarlatii And
the Stabat Mater comes next, oh. /
can't, can't. Won't you. Marion?''
| Z