The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1908-04-07

MISS MAUDE MOWRY
vIOLINISTE
MOZART HALL
THURSDAY EVENING, FEB. 2
Under the patronage of the Countess Of
Carchester. Mrs Peter Wolff-De Peyster,
Mrs. Roger Standbilt, Mrs Porter Os-
bourne-Smith.
Tickets, s.. 81 and 81.
Marshall glanced from the billboard
to his watch and then signaled for a
cab. He had meant to walk in leisurely
fashion to his hotel, but matters had
suddenly turned urgent. His room en-
gagged, he turned toward the flower
shop at the far end Of the electrically
lighted corridor. Nothing in the whole
shop seemed worthy Of the Maude he
had known. The orchids dropped even
in the refrigerator. The stems of the
American Beauties were too short. The
pink roses were too deep in tone. They
would clash with the delicate tint Of
her cheeks. He finally settled on lilies
of the valley and California yiolets.
Then he hurried over to the stand
where theater tickets were sold. No,
they never carried tickets for Mozart
hail. but they would send messenger
for one.
BY 100 Marshall was Tuning over
his toilet That lavender tie looked too
loud by electric light, and the white
had turned a queer yellowish tint. He
would wear black. That was always
safe.
He arrived fifteen minutes too soon
and watched nervously the slow gath
ering of the well gowned audience.
When the stringed sextet started the
overture the house was half empty.
Marshall wondered what allied the
music loving public of New York that
it would take chances on missing the
opening number by its favorite violin
iste. And then she came out through
the narrow white and gold door, and
he forgot the audience, forgot every
thing but her-her clinging white gown
frosted with pearls, her slender white
throat.
She was looking thinner than when
she left McKeesport, and her face had
q wistful expression where once 1t had
been a trife imperious
So much music had done for her!
Like Undine, she had found her soul,
but somehow Victor Marshall caught
himself wondering, under. the spell Of
her playing, why the kiss of music and
not of love had awakened that soul
He woke with a start The audience
was appIauding, and ushers were hur-
rying down the aisle with monstrous
floral offerings, American Beauties,
with stems three and four feet long,
overtopped by golden chrysanthe-
NUNS.
Victor Marshall leaned back grimly
in his chair What was $40 worth Of
lilies and violets in New York?
The piece de resistance of the con-
cert was over, a concerto in which the
violiniste had outshone the popular
string sextet.
Marshall reached for his hat Part
Of the audience was making for the
entrance, exclaiming the personalities
of regular concert goers. Another group,
a smaller one, was making its way In
timately toward the door leading to
the dressing room, obviously to con-
graduate the star
Impulsively Victor Marshall started
to follow the smaller group, then stop
ped, with a grim smile on his lips.
Every one of these men wore evening
clothes. He'd look well in his plain
business suit offering congratulations
along with countesses and society. lead
ers
So he went back to the hotel-but not
to sleep. All night he fought it out
with himself Sometimes he paced the
floor. Sometimes he stood gazing over
the twinkling lights of the city. And
by morning he had found himself.
He would drop in to call upon his
old sweetheart, but in the most cor
rect and casual way. OF course Nc
Keesport had not dreamed that she
had advanced so far in her profession.
The Countess of Carchester! Mrs.
Roger Standbilt! They were names to
conjure with.
And he had thought that because he
had won the D. r. and Fort G. suit he
had the world at his feet and Maude
Mowry would be glad to come back
and reign over the Queen Anne cottage
he had bought without even writing to
her.
He did not dare to think of the new
bay window he had designed for the
south room, nor the rugs he had select
ed at the mechanical exposition, nor
the Marshall mahogany he had bought
from the rest of the heirs.
1t was 4 In the afternoon when, re-
freshed by a Turkish bath and a thick
beefsteak, he felt fit to present him
self at the studio of Miss Maude
Mowry, violiniste" Under the very
eyes Of very towering studio building
and In the dim light of fading day and
shaded electroliers 1t seemed to ra-
date that vague artistic atmosphere
of which Victor Marshall had read
much.
Maude was glad to see him, unfeign-
eddy, frankly glad, and Marshall ar
gued that it was the proper attitude
Of the great and the successful toward
old time friends. He leaned back In
the carved French chair where he
could keep the masses of fragrant floral
offerings In full view to temper his
speech. They were a warning against
personalities and "reminiscences.
But try as he would to talk glitter
ing generalities, Maude steadily and
persistently led the conversation back
to McKeesport, old friends and what
Marshall felt was the danger zone for
himself. He would not tell her Of the
D. R. and Fort G. case, because she
might guess that behind this triumph
Law his hearts secret, the years Of
work for her. oh, no! He would be
game and as coolly worldly as herself.
The chimes in nearby church tow
err rang G, and he rose abruptly.
I'm going back tomorrow" he be-
gan.
Tomorrow Her voice was bit
faint and toneless. She was burying
her face in his violets.
eyes; 1 just ran on to see a-a-man
on business"
She was looking at him above the
yiolets now, and he felt that she saw
straight through that lie, so he plung-
ed desperately.
'Td like awfully well to take you out
to dinner with me tonight at-at any
old place you might name; but, you see,
I've no evening clothes with me.
didn't think. came on business
"Oh, bother the evening Clothes" ex-
claimed Maude, with a shaky laugh.
"Fn wear a tailored suit and shirt
waist"
ITS awfully good of you" he said
''Do you know where we can get good
food without too much style?"