Holbrook argus., 1911-04-04


 There is certainly nothing wrong with my voice or with me-
 Between that appearance and her next upon the program she could not sit still, but walked about. restlessly. She knew very well what her mother thought-that she had never done so well in her life. And Uncle James that she had given him good value for his money.
 By George, that niece of mine, she's a winner" He would be saying at his club tomorrow. And Violet would go home to dream of French gowns and punches of orchids as large as her own little blonde head. And Aunt Belle would be planning din ner to take place before, "Maude starts on her tour"
 But he-what did he think? His eyes were unfathomable. That was because they held so much. Had she convinced him that she could sing? Has she?
 She went out again upon the stage; she bowed and smiled and sung again her best-to him. And still he sat with his arms folded and his chin lift ed and his inscrutable eyes watch ing-watching.
 It was over at last. She was whisk- ed away in Uncle James big motor to their apartments, where little supper had been arranged for her. They were all there but him. Would he come? They were all trying to talk at once about her. They wear ieG and worried her with their praise. Somehow it suddenly sounded mean ingless to her. What she wanted was the truth. And she felt deep down in her heart that only he could give it.
 The apartments were suffocatingly sweet with fiowers-all offerings at her shrine He had sent his bouquet with the rest She took it up now and held it close to her face. It was pink pink roses. And down among them was his name upon little white card. Why didn't he come? Why didn't he come?
 Suddenly the door opened and he entered Her color rushed to meet the roses color in a warm sweet flood. He had seen her at once without seeming to see her, just as she had seen him. And now he was coming towards her. Above his roses their eyes met. She held out her hand.
 'Well?" she demanded, What have you to say?''
 What do you wish me to say?"
 She looked down at the roses. And f chn 0f his face.
 You know" she said "the truth
 He caught his breath as if in pain.
 "The truth" he repeated. "Ah!" And then she looked up at him sharp ly, for it was as if he had said: Let me tell you something pleasanter than the truth
 "Ah," she cried, piteously, under standing. q have failed! I haven't shown you"
 You have shown me-" his voice was exquisite, That you are all things a woman should be-the rarest, the sweetest, the best. Dear," he falter- ed, q know I am breaking your heart, but better force me to break it who love you so than for strangers whose indifference will make them unneces- sarily cruel. As I listened to you tonight, left that I must tell you the truth even as you have asked me, be- fore you went out into the world in all your happy young confidence to learn it by bitter defeat. For that is that awaits you. I speak as a man and a critic, not as your lover.
 q know that after this you will not consider me such. I am sacrificing good deal am I not, just to tell you the plain truth? You are a glorious woman, Maude, but you cant sing. It is not your fault; you have been de ceived by praise and 1attery. But 1 cant deceive you.'
 Above the pink roses her face was perfectly white. She had done her best and they had all told her that she her because they loved her-all ex- cept this one man. He had never lied. He was telling her the truth. Better to hear it from his lips than, as she said, from the lips of strangers. She thought of her prospective tour and l shuddered. She was brave woman and though she had her moment of bitter struggle with her spirit rose presently from the black depths into which he had plunged it and she look ed him steadily in the face.
 After all," she said. q did it all for you. It was your opinion I want | ed, because I knew it would be the right one. When I asked you to tell me the truth 1 did it because l knew that you would tell me the truth. And you have. Thank you, Alan"
 She held out her hand again. And as he lifted it reverently to his lips ne left with a sudden thrill of joy and hope and thanksgiving that the great | good he craved was nearer to him i than ever befOre-that he has, indeed,