The Press., 1908-01-15

II
 playing of a master.
 Even as a child Morris Hart had been strangely moved by music. and now his soul thrilled as the almost human notes pierced the air. For a time he could not locate the player, but at last he caught glimpse of girl az lovely as the music she made.
 She stood at the window of squalid tenement that raced the building in which Hart had his office and, all un- conscious of the notice she attracted, | played on and on. The same airs she | played over and over again. but the trial balance waited while Hart drank in the melody. At last, with sigh. \ she laid down the instrument and, carefully putting it away, busled her self with the preparation of her sim pie meal.
 | Hart turned again to the trial bal anca which the bookkeeper had laid l upon his desk, but he could not banish | from his thoughts the fair musician and the picture she made framed in the opening in the rough brick of the rear wall
 She was fair with the fairness of the north, but her eyes were the lustrous black of the Latins, and in her face was an odd mixture of the cold repres- sion of the north born with the pas sion of the sunnier south. Even in the poor dress she wore she did not lose her Queenly stateliness of bearing, and the collarless, shabby waist betrayed the round fullness of the neck and the dazzling whiteness of her shoulders. For a man who had hitherto account ed women things of little importance the girl of the violin occupied much of Hart's attention that afternoon, and in the evening she absorbed his thoughts to the exclusion of all else. Hart was early at his office in the morning. He had passed an almost sleepless night and had come to the office in the hope of finding forgetful- ness of the girl in the absorption of work. He gathered up the mail from the floor in front of the letter drop and mechanically busied himself in opening the envelopes.
 But scarcely had he begun when from across the yards came the sound of the violin. Today she stood slightly more in the shadow, and he could bare ly discern her face, though his memory needed no refreshing, and he could see her as plainly as he had the day be- fore, when she had stood just in front of the window. Over and over again she played the same airs. The head clerk came In for the mail, and Hart waved him away. 1t was not until the violin was put away and the girl sat at the window with some sewing that Hart could give his attention to his affairs. Late in the afternoon the violin was taken up again, and once more Hart stopped work that he might drink in to the full the sweet strains that seem ed to gain an added beauty from their environment
 For a week or so Hart enjoyed the daily concert; then there came a day when the windows were closed and the violin did not sound. In some way Hart worried through the day, but when evening fell, instead of going direct to his club, as was his custom,
 
 back street. It was with difficulty that he located the apartment, but at last he found the right one and made eager Inquiry of the slatternly woman who announced herself as the jani- tress.
 They were gone. she told him, the little old professor and his daughter. She did not know where they had gone. They were annoying the other tenants with their everlasting playing and had been asked to move on that account.
 Great heavens" gasped Hart. "You would probably turn out Paderewski himself"
 we don't take thim HungarIans," explained the janitress. 'The little Dutch professor was bad enough. Divil another wan av thim comes in here"
 Hart turned away heartsick and dis couraged. Now that the girl was gone he felt that he had let pass out of his life the one woman who would have made him happy. All the evening he moped at the club, and in the days to come the employees at the office asked each other anxious1y if the depression in stocks had impaired the capital of the business. Only business worries could account to them for Hart's irri- tability.
 Then came a night when one of his associates at the club insisted upon carrying him off to a vaudeville house.
 There's a musical act on that you will like. You can't afford to miss it." he urged. and Hart went for com pany's sake, though he detested the musical offerings of vaudeville.
 The seats were easy, smoking was permitted. and Hart found himself comfortably bored until the next to the last number was announced
 This Is great: something new" eX- plained his companion, and Hart re- garded curiously the black void of the stage. .4-.
 Nothing could be seen save the black curtains with which the stage was hung. The music was playing weird ly fantastic introduction. A flash of binding light ran across the front of the stage. sending to the flies a cloud of smoke, which cleared to disclose q woman garbed in white. s..es
 Hart started forward in his seat, then fell back again. It was the girl of across the way. Now a changing robe of white fell in graceful folds from her shoulders, and her masses of golden hair were left unbound. She looked out at the audience with inscru- table eyes and raised the violin to ther chin.
 She played the same selections that he had heard in his office, and when at last the curtain fell and whir an- nounced the commencement of the mo- ton pictures Hart sought out the man. ager, whom he knew slightly.
 "No mashing there," declared the manager, with laugh, when Hart begged for an introduction. Her fa- ther is with her all the time"
 ssI want to meet them both" exDlain-