The Spokane press. [volume] (Spokane, Wash.) 1902-1939, 1909-06-28
THE PENALTY OF PRIDE.

IL was curing the early udyS VI
my study of vocal art that l met
Hilda MOntclair, at that time one
of the teachers of piano at one OF
the largest Conservatives in New
York, where | was working as IL
my life depended on ii, to finish
the course / had chosen, in the
shortest possible time. Hilda was
met me, although she often re-
marked, not boastingly. but with a
certain conviction attending her
words, that she was never miscel-
laneously hasty in her choice of
friends. She was, in fact, the OPP
posite. and sometimes took an I'M
warranted dislike to persons,
which she seldom overcame.
was prone to respect her preiu-
dices, although I must confess they
were not always mine.
One evening we were sitting in
the almost deserted parlors of my
second class boarding house, chat
ting for few moments before go
ing out to rehearsal we were
wont to attend together. when a
very tall and awkward young man
was shown into the room and told
to wait" There was an embar-
RAISING silence. as the awkward
youth shambled to a seat. There
was something in the situation
that struck us both as quite ridicu-
lous. and | exerted all my will
power to avoid laughing. Hilda, at
this moment. made a commonplace
remark which might excuse a
laugh; and when the young man
Topped down upon a divan much
too low for him, and his feet shot
out in front of him, causing him
to turn ridiculously her, 1t proved
too much. Hilda's little joke sud
denly became the funniest thing l
had ever heard, and we both burst
into laughter. We were unable to
restrain ourselves, and hurriedly
left the room.
The poor fellow was there still,
when we rose, and when we had
passed out affecting of contrition
came over me.
"Oh. Hilda, how very rude of
u.s." said, as we assembled the
stairs.
"Rude?" she answered: "why.
it's rich! never in my life saw
anything as funny as he is"
But | remembered still the teach
ings of my mother, who would
have been grieved, indeed, to know
| could be guilty of such an act of
discourtesy. Knowing this, and
wishing to make amends, | often
went out of my way thereafter to
make life pleasant for the awk-
ward young man, who proved to be
new boarder. But Hilda, true to
her prejudices, ignored him.
Several months passed and l
grew to know him very well. Then.
one evening. wished to see a pic
ture, a masterpiece. on exhibition
in the city, and asked Mr.. Wood
ford, our awkward young man, to
take me. | seldom went out, but
this | particularly wished to see,
and | did not In the least mind
requesting him to accompany me.
We went, and as we alighted
from a car. we met Hilda. fashion
ably dressed, with an escort
equally as fashionable. She looked
at me curiously. and l could feel
her surprise that | had accepted as
an escort the awkward young man
at whom We had laughed so mer-
rily, some months before.
When she and met again, she
did not try to conceal her displeas.
ure at my action, which she
deemed mistaken kindness. She
could not understand, she said,
why l should show favor to such
a homely, unattractive and initial.
ented young man. when there werc
so many others to choose from.
And | thought, "Pehaps she is
right"
1t was year later that I babe
them all farewell. happy that my
ambitions were beginning to be re-
allied, and that was to go to Flu.
rope to complete my studies and
later attempt to gain a place
among the greatest singers.
Woodford was there to see me
off. The poor fellow looked miser.
able. for he had hoped my kind
ness to him might mean something
more. He had asked me to give up