Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-08-12

! Der. "Oh, l was afraid, but I couldn't give
| him up. 1T was to be a test, noble test
OF his strength and-and of mine. He has
kept the faith while I-l-after all. he must
have struggled against. leaving me to enjoy
everything. / On. God, help me!
I've struggled, too" she went on, half
ferCely. "A year ago It would have been
different. l held him close to my heart. L
read our promise l thought of him. inn
agined him. prayed for HIM, loved him
suppose, and now
'Oh, Dan" she mourned Il must go
back to you. l Will! I'll force myself TO be
| the same. You, so splendidly true, shall
not find me false III be a good wife. Yes.
happy one. There can be no other way
| for us I proud of you, and my word
| shall be kept to the end"
| For something else had been going on
across the street. very simple, easy nat
| ural unsupported matter until an acct
| dental touch and quick, mutual glance
had spun two souls toward heaven in a sec
| onds fash of understanding.
The man had gone at once, quietly as was
| his way, with a low good night Ed III
Carmayne was not for him. Wesley Gar
ret, a poor musician hired to bring his
violin one evening each week that Mss
Carmayne might practice Accomplishments
1t was very unfortunate that his hand
should have rested on hers as they were
hunting among the music for something
new; very foolish of him to have let her
see his eyes devouring hungrily the sweet
face so near his own.
She had looked up suddenly, and caught
a secret that was to have been hidden for
ever; OWNED 1t before he could turn his
head. The blood had leaped to her cheeks
the tears to her eyes, while he, poor fool
had stood dazed for a thrilling moment,
trying to regain the senses SO lamentab y
confused
pltied-that was all. Never again would
she have opportunity to notice in his de-
meanor one trace of the passion which
Slumhered in his lonely heart, a love grown
like a ullick hndGinR flower in a few ahOrV
months. a few short meetings. Now he
must cash 1t to the very roots and let it
bleed itself away to deserving death He
would go there usual self-cOntained and
silent play, and be gone.
Garrett smiled bitterly, striding on. Good
antecedents. an empty pocket and fiddle,
twelve years of study, soloist in three
years more perhaps; then a doubtful fame.
a little income, an uncertain career. Think
of that man-and not of Edith Carmayne,
he said to himself
And she of whom he thinking
kneeled by the music-rack, in a strange
despair tinged with a Wild happiness.
Seven times since had he come and gone,
saying little hardly looking a her, play
ing delightfully."-. but to himself, not to her.
Miss Van Arnum heard, but did not sus-
peCt.
"A fiddler, and Wesley Garrett at that.
Pooh! Nothing attractive about him. Takes
after his mother very plain woman.
Dead now; 1 recolect Wesley as a boy.
Crazy over fddles then" Honora's nature
was not artistic
Nothing is more binding between sym
pathetic souls than silence. Words do not
express the emanation of spirit. Love
YIELDS by the unspoken. With the two who
could not speak the invisible bands drew
closer. Each. understanding, would not
admit. nor swerve from the marked path.
Then came Lloyd Van Arnums message.
That evening came Wesley Garrett.
The hour over, and he stood lingering
his violin.
I'm afraid this must be out last; I mean
that I'll be unable to give my time regu-
lary after this said Edith, hesitatingly.
Il shall miss my music, but 1t will have
to be neglected. If | need you-want you
toto play. l mean, III send word, and"
She swallowed, looking down al the keys,
fast becoming a blur of black and white.
II am to come, then, when you request
it?'' CARROTS tone was even.
Yes. I'm sorry, very sorry. Ion! do
play some little thing. Mr.. Garrett" cried
the girl. desperately. "Anything! Per
Ia ps talk about arranging for you to
practice with me-after moment. I can't
give 1t up entirely"
The violinist lifted his instrument and
struck chord. He smiled gently as