The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1906-07-14
CHAPTER XVIII.

CAUGHT,
karl0ft came around to music. The
dramatis,'s wife should play Tosti's
Ave Maria. Miss Annesley should play
the obligato on the violin and the
primatlonna should sing; bul Just at
present the dramatist should tell them
all about his new military play which
was to be produced in December
Count. ! beg to decline" laughed
the dramatst. 81 should hardly dare
TO tell my plot before two such military
experts as we have here. should be
told to write the play all over again,
and now it is too late"
Whenever Betty's glanres fell on her
fathers face. the slatlncsS in her own
was somewhat dimmed. What WAS
making that loved face so carey worn,
weary? But she was young; the
spirits of youth never flow long in one
direction. The repartee, brilliant and
at the same time every sting with
drawn. flashed up and down the table
like so many tireilies on Il wet lawn in
AS the courses came and passed, so
the conversation became less and less
general: and by the time the ices
were served the colonel had engaged
his host. and the others divided into
twos. Then coffee. liuueurs and cigars,
when the ladies' rose and trailcd into
the little Turkish room where the
distinguished looking butler" sup
piled them with the amber Juice
A dinner is a function where every
body talks and nobody eats. Some
have eaten before they come. some
wish they had. and others dare not eat
for fear of losing some of the gossip.
After the liquenrs my butler con-
rluded that his labor was done and he
offered a short prayer of thankful
ness and relief. Heavens. what mad,
fantastic impulses had seized him
while he was passing the soup. Sup
posing he had spilled the hot liquid
down liarlOff'S back. or poured out a
glass of burgundy for himself and
drained II before them all, or slapped
his late colonel on the back and asked
him the state of his liver? 1t was
maddcning and he marvelled at his es-
cape. There hadn't been a real mis-
hap. The colonel had only scowlcd at
him: he was safe. lie passed secretly
from the house and hung around The
bow window which let out on the low
balcony. The window was open, and
occasionally he could hear a voice from
beyond the room. which was dark
1t was one of those nights. those mild
November nights. to which the novel;
lists OF the old regime used to devote
II whole page; the silvery palIor on
the landscape. the moon mists, the
round. white. inevitable moon, the STIR
ring breeZes. the murmIr of the few
remaining leaves. and all that. But
these busy days we have not the time
to read nor the inclination to describe.
Suddenly upon the stiffness of the
night tie splendor of a human voice
broke forth; the prima-donna was
trying her voice 4 violin walled q
note A hand ran up and ,:awn the
keys OF the piano. Warbmrton hriI
Tosti's Ave Maria many times. but
he never will forget the manner in
which 1t was sung that night. The
sonsstress was carefree and among
persons she knew and liked, and she
put her soul into that magnificent and
mysterious throat of hers. And throb-
bling all through the song was the
vibrant loving voice of the violin,
And when the human tones died away
and the instrument ceased to speak,
Warburton felt himself swallowing
rapidly. Then came Schumann's Trau-
merei on the strings. EIandels Largo.
Griegs Papllen, and ballade by
Chaminade. Then again sang the
prima-donna; old folisy songs,
sketches from the operas, grand and
light, Faust. The Barber of Seville,
La File de Madame Anso,. In all his
days WarburtOn had never heard such
music. Doubtless he had-evcn better;
only at this period he was in love.
The imagination of loves young dream
is the most slretchable thing l know
of. Seriously. however. he was a
very good Judge of music. and am
convinced that what he heard was out
of the ordinary.
But ! must guide my story into the
channel proper.
ITO BE Continned.J