The Democratic advocate., 1909-07-02
HER TRUE MUSIC,
The Surprise That Came After
the Lovers Were Engaged.
1y RETTINA MAYHEM.

Press.
"St James park? Pardon me. Ca]
Won direct me to the Woodson resi-
dence"
The parks thick turf had deadeneG
the sound Of the steps; hence the tive
clerical looking gentlemen had OBJ
served at close range for some time
the girl in the swing before either O.
them spoke.
For a minute a sensitive face, fran
ed by big hat, lifted, and a pair o1
glowing black eyes Travelled with slow
deliberation from one to the other be
fore she replied.
"The graystone, first turn to the
left"
Then she resumed her book, the
wide hat dropping so that the merest
outlines of chin and neck .peeped from
below the edge of the brim.
"a pretty hat and pretty girl" the
Rev. Paul Freyer meditated, "and a
picture worth remembering"
Two hours later from the landing of
the stairs his eyes fell upon the same
hat, entirely at home on the rack in
the Woodson hall. He knew it in
stantly. By no chance could there be
two such hats. 1t was broad and low
crowned, q mass Of white poppies
with dark hearts-one Of those articles,
in fact, which proclaim with brazen
tongue the personality of the wearer.
Perhaps the graystone, with its web
of dull green and gay red creepers
and it's more than full quota Of hooks,
sunny and conspicuous or unexpected
and shadowy, had something to do
with the Rev. PauPs mood. At any
rate, before he stirred from the land
ing the pretty girl in white, with the
glowing black eyes, had responded to
his Imagination by assuming the pro-
portions of his ideal-a Portia, veri-
table Portia.
Who was she? The Rev. Paul de-
rived a pleasurable shock from an In
spired guess. Who else, indeed, but
Ada, stepdaughter to his sister, Mrs
Sara Woodson? Quite distinctly he re-
called forgotten fact There had been
at the time of the marriage mention
made Of a child. That, Of course, was
years ago. She was now probably well
grown.
He had been in college then, after
ward travelling abroad. Returning, he
had Immediately settled into a pas
torate that had taxed his powers to
the uttermost and tired his very soul.
Sister and all else outside Of duty had
gone from him with an imperceptible
drift till the day dawned when he was
peremptorily ordered away for rest.
He had come protesting, regretting,
and now-what If He laughed softly
and sought his sister.
In the dining room, when he entered,
the pretty girl, prettier than he had
thought, stood with her hand on the
back Of chair at the foot Of the table.
"My stepdaughter." Mrs. Woodson's
smile was gracious and sweet. "Ada,
my brother, the Rev. Paul Freyer, and
his assistant, the Rev. MT. Condor.
Just think, Ada" she laughed gayly,
"for the whole of the summer they
have nothing to do nor thought or
wish but to amuse. That list we were
preparing for our summer reading
"Oh, Saraw Eager and bright the
clear voice floated from the foot Of the
table. 1--WE must-we must first finish
that story Of 'Sindbad the Sailor It is
Maupassant's very best. MaupassantT
she reflected. Perhaps, now, it's Poe.
or maybe" and the big childish eyes
sought those In turn Of each present
mo; I have it. It's Halifax. Am
right? Sara, do set me straight"
Mrs. Woodson's hands dropped heavy
on her unfolded napkin, and the Rev.
Pauls heart contracted to diminutive
proportions. For him the golden bowl
was broken, the swift born hope Of an
hour trailed in the dust. The-the hat
then, had not been
He sighed, and the sigh was-for the
smallness of the beautiful concrete and
for the greatness Of the beautiful abb
stract.
And Ada babbled joyously on, her
clear voice and soft laugh dominant
features of the dinner hour. "The
chatter Of child" the Rev. Paul de-
cided, unconsciously talking down to
her. Afterward she fitted about the
rooms, never still, the quick tattoo of
her high heeled slippers quite as mu-
sicaI as her rendition Of famous con-
certo and disappearing early with a
pleasant good night.
"a charming young GIRL ventured
Rev Mr.. Condor, and the Rev. Paul
REINFORCED the remark with: 'For all
the world like white butterfly. Has
she never gone to school, Sara"
But if Ada had not womanly graces
and scholarship she possessed an ac-
compIishment out Of the usual, con-
slant eruption of small talk. No con-
versation, serious or learned, could re-
sist it. Without thought she cleft 1t
at a blow. severing each thread past
hope of redemption.
Thinking cymbals," the Rev. Paul
remarked one day, watching the fly
ing, whirling white figure in pursuit
Of butterflies In the occasional patches
of sunshine among the great trees.
IT'S a pity so exquisite creature
should be $3.50 You ought to send
her to school, Sara"
Mrs. WooLson flushed to the little
curls on her forehead. Paul" she
said, you do Ada injustice. p She
stopped, laughing lightly, as Ada fut-
tered into the room.