The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1905-11-12
tTrue-without the encores. -
NAnd you don't sing at all. y

"Royai College of Music' That's
something new, since my time said
the visitor, signing also. But what IS
man like that doing out herea"
"He has a brother squatter, the
next station but one. Sir Julian IS
spending the English winter with him
on account Of his health.
$50 you've seen something in himi"
~ wish we had.'
"But Mrs. Clarkson basf'
"No-not YETI ...,.~| g..
81 see!' and an enlightened CLEAN
shst thru the eyeglass. $50 this IS her
way of getting to know a poor over
worked wreck who came out to patch
his lungs in peace and quietl And
she's going to sing him one Of his own
songs; she's gone to Melbourne to dress
the part; and you're not going to sing
anything at anl'
Miss Bouverie refrained alike from
comment and confirmation; but her
silence was the less creditable in that
her companion was now communing
chiefly with himself. She felt, indeed,
that she had already been guilty Of a
certain disloyalty to one to whom she
owed some manner Of allegiance; but
that was the extent Of Miss Bouverie's
indiscretion in her own eyes. It caused
her no qualms to entertain an anony-
nous gentleman whom she had never
seen before. A colder course had COM
mended itself to the young lady fresh
from London; but to a colonial girl, on
a station where special provision was
made for the entertaining of strange
travellers, the situation was simply con-
vential. It might have been less oner-
GUS with host or hostess on the spot;
but then the visitor would not have
heard her sing, and he seemed to know
what singing was.
Miss Bouverie watched him as he
leant over the piano, looking thru The
songs which she had dared once more
to bring forth from her room. She
est in the dark and dapper man, with
the military eyeglass and mustache, the
spruce duck jacket and the spurred
topboots. It was her first meeting
with such a type in the back-blocks Of
New South Wales. The gallant ease,
the natural gayety, the charming man
ners that charmed no less for a clear
trace Of mannerism, were peculiar re-
freshment after society racier of Riv-
erina soil. Yet it was none Of these
things which attracted this woman to
this man; for the susceptible girl was
dead in her for the time being; but
the desperate artist was alive again
after many weeks, was painting for
fresh life, was catching at a straw.
He had heard her Sing. It had brought
him galloping off the track. He praised
her voice; and he knew-he knew what
singing was.
Who could he BET Not \
could that be possible7
"sing me this,' he said, suddenly
and, seating himself at the piano
played the opening bars of a vocal
: adaptation Of Handel IS Largo with a
just, tho Impractical touch.
Nothing could have afforded q finer
hearing Of the quality and the compass
| Of her voice, and she knew Of old how
well it suited her; yet at the outset
from the sheer excitement Of her sus
picion, Hilda Bouverie was shaky tc
the point Of a pronounced tremo1o. II
, wore off with the lengthening cadences
| and in minute the little building was
| bursting with her voice, while the
pianist swayed and bent upon his stoo
, with the exuberant sympathy Of s
| note had died away he wheeled about
, looking curiously on her flushed face
and painting bosom.
9 81 can't place your voice." he said
at last. "It's both notes.-the mos
, wonderful compass in the world-ant
!; the world will tell you 80, when you g
back to it, as go back you must ,ant
shall. May I ask the nams Of you
O master9'
"My own name-Bouverie. It wa
my father. He is dead.'
J.. Her eyes glistened.
"You did not 60 to anotherS'
l. ct had no money. Besides, he ha'
lived for what you say; when he die
with his dream still a., dream, I said
would do the same, and I came u
p here.'
She had turned away. A less tact
- full interlocutor had sought plaine
= reputation Of the rash resolve; thi
one rose and buried himself in NOR
songs.
II have heard you in grand opers
u and in something really grand" h
said. CHOW want song, the simple
o. the better.'
Behind his back daring light cam
20 into the moist eyes.
''There is one of Mrs. Clarkson g,
Is she said. "She would never forgiv
u me for singing it, butt have heard
u. from her so often, know SO well ho'
% it ought to CO.,
n And, fetching the song from a cal
n met, she thrust it boldly under h:
r nose. 1t was called 'tThe Unrealize
10 Ideal,'', and was setting Of som
words by real poet then living, who's
- name caused this reader to murmu
"London Lyrics!" The composer W.
s. Sir Julian Crum. But his name VIZ
ID read without word, or a movement {
the strong shoulders and the tame
IS neck on which Miss Bouverie's ey'
y were fixed.
IF ttYou had better play this yourself,
le said he, after peering at the music TIN
Of his glass. ! It IS rather 200 many =
n And, strangely crestfallen, Miss Be
as verie took his place.
or s.My only love is always near
=, In country or in town
see her twinkling feet, hear
he The whisper of her gown
.sshe foots It ever fair and young,
=, Her locks are tied in haste,
And one Is DER her shoulder. flung
~ 1870 "A nd hangs below her waist = = As