The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1906-03-16
Marion's Aria.
BY ELIZABETH PRICE.

BY ELIZABETH PRICE.
"The decision will be announced this
afternoon" said Marion, nervously
twitching her thread. 81 can hardly
wait to hear it, yet dread it, too o
mother, if it should be Marguerite Oils
instead of ME l don't see how | could
bear it! There, I've broken my needle I"
Give me the glove, dear. I'll mend
that rip. You are TOO excited to sew"
I'm afraid am, though suppose
ought to be ashamed to confess it." and
Marion laughed little quivering laugh
as she relinquished her task.
Anna looked up from her geography
sympatheticaily. ITS no wonder l feel
that way for you till l can hardly tell
the Isthmus of Panama from the Gulf of
| Mexico"
whats all the fuss about. any how ?"
asked Alfred, coming back with an effort
from the vortex of adventure into which
the book he held had plunged him.
I'VE are to learn at this afteraria in
the "Inhammatus' from the "Stabat
Mater" announced Marion, who was
now strapping music into her roll
The Philharmonic Society is going to
sing it at the grand concert, Alf," cx-
planned Anna. They've engaged a solo
singer from Boston, or somewhere, for
all but this one piece, but they are going
to choose somebody in the society to
sing this aria. It's awfully high and
hard, and it's great honor to be asked,
and Marion hopes she is going to be
chosen.
ooh, yes. Well, what is the aria or
whatever you cali it ?"
cts where one singer goes shrieking
and warbling away up above everybody
else, and the chorus sort Of mumbles
along underneath, soft and subdued."
Even Marion, in spite of her agitation,
laughed at her sister, definition. "It's
this way, Alf," she said 1--WE been
studying very hard. My teachers tell
me have done well, but no one has yet
given me chance to demonstrate to the
public what l amount to. This aria is
hard, but l can do it. If l should be
chosen to sing it, it would encourage me
very much, and it would introduce me
formally into the musical world, where
there are to be had choir and concert en-
gagements such as / need"
Alfred's face was full of interest. "What
about this Oils grip he asked
"She is the one fear most. She can't
she is so pretty and dresses so beauti-
fully. But she doesn't expect to earn her
living by her nusic-and to be chosen
would mean nothing to her beyond the
honor of the moment"
"Well, l am perfectly sure you'll get
it," said Anna with much decision.
go in and win, Marion. You're all
right" and Alfred subsidized into his
cushion.
"Three o'clock, daughter. Here's your
mended glove. Be brave and cheerful to
meet whatever comes"
''Pll try, mother. Thank you; you are
such comfort p and the girl, pale with
anxiety, kissed her mother tenderly and
departed.
Half an hour later Conductor Moro
SIM raised his baton for silence. Before
him were ranged his orchestra and cho-
rus, row after row.
In the front row of sopranos sat
Marion Wood. Her hands held her music
without tremor, but her heart beat suf
focatingly, and her breath came too fast
for comfort. Next her sat Marguerite
Oils, her pink and white prettiness set
off to the best advantage by her becom-
ing costume. If she was nervous no one
would have suspected it, as she smiled
archly up into the conductors face.
He glanced at her girlish beauty, the
soft curves of her cheeks and the waves
of her sunny hair; then at Marion, silent,
intense, almost grim in her earnestness.
How could he know why one looked
forbidding, the other graciousness itself?
He shrugged his shoulders.
The music is not all, even here. Miss
Oils is a picture-the audience-they
will be better pleased" he murmured to
himself
Then aloud, Ladies and gentlemen, it
is with pleasure l have to announce to
you that the aria from the InAammatus
will be sung by Miss Marguerite Oils.
Arise, Miss Oils. Ladies and gentlemen,
behold the prima donna of the Philhar-
monte Society"
OF course she rose and bowed and
smiled bewitchingly, and the chorus ap-
plauded vigorously, while Marion sat,
wretched and heart-sick, yet calm, still
holding her music in hands that did not
tremb'e.
The professor, glancing in her direction
with little guilty feeling at his heart,
reassured himself: "She does not care"
Then they sang, and Marguerites voice
came out clear and sweet on every diff
cult passage. Marion had never heard
her do so well. The inspiration 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 off I'M
eventually, and at the close Marion hur-
ried away from the condolences and COM
ments of her friends. Supper was wait
ing when she got home, but even her
favorite cream puffs failed to comfort her.
81 hate Marguerite Ollisr' she sobbed,
stormily. "She has everything without
an effort, while l, who ask only for a
chance to work my own way, am denied
that"
"She's a stuck up snip" declared
Anna, wiping her own eyes, while Alfred
clenched his fists as if he longed to fight
it out with somebody.
Marion's mother did not say anything
at first, only stroked the brown head on
her shoulder and kissed the hot hand
that trembled in her grasp, while Mr..
Wood said tenderly: There, dearie,