The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-11-08

ndQ ldQ TOT a moment a vague, dlIuOSt childish sense of shrinking as if from something monstrous and uncanny.
 A grand piano stood open by the win. dow, and in the dim light she sat down and let her fingers wander idly in long arpeggios.
 She thought no one heard, but out by the. azalea hedge man was stand. ing listening to the hushed chords floating through the open window.
 From the bungalow on the Yokoha- ma bluff Daunt had come back to Tokyo.
 Tokyo had been the objective point of Daunt's six years of diplomatic ca reer, and he had found the kingdom of slender swords a fascinating and ab- sorting study. In the absorbing rou. tine of the chancery and the bright gayeties of the capitals diplomatic cir. cle the first year had gone swiftly enough Since then the glider experi- ments had lent an added zest.
 Even at college Langley's first aero plane had interested him, and out of that interest had grown course ot reading which had given him broad technical knowledge of applied me chanics. In, Japan he had conceived the idea of the new fan propeller. worked out in many an hour of study in the little Japanese house in Aoya- ma, which he had taken because ii adjoined the parade ground where his earliest experiments were made.
 1s Cov~ . dapper young officer on the general staff, had surprised him with the offer from the Japanese war department of the use of an empty garage on the edge of the great esplanade. Only a month ago he had awakened to the knowledge that his name was known to the aero enthusiasts of Paris, New York and Vienna and that his propel- Ter was an assured success.
 Unconsciously tonight his thoughts slowly took the nebulous shape of 8 woman. He had often. dreamed o1 her, though he had never seen heI face. It was half yelled now In the bluish haze of his pipe, while she talk. ed to him before a fire of driftwood (that burned with red and blue lights because of sea ghosts in it), and hel voice was low and clear, like flute.
 The wavering outline was still be fore his miad's eye as he trod the quiet road that led to the embassy entered it's wide gate and slowly cross ed the silent garden toward his bache Tor cottage on the lawn. And there suddenly the vision had seized a va grant melody and had spoken to him in song. Daunt thrust his cold pipe into his pocket and listened with head thrown back.
 It was no brilliant display of tech niQue that held him, for the player was touching simple chords. but these were singing old melodies that tool him far to other scenes and other times. He smiled to himself. How them-not since the old college days That happy, irresponsible era of seniol dignities came back vividly to him the campus and the singing. Flo, years he had not recollected it all ss keenly. He had been glee club solo ist,~ pushed forward on all occasions and applauded to the echo.. Praise o. his singing he had accepted somewhat humorously. Never but once had il E touched him deeply, and that had beer on commencement afternoon
 He had slipped away from the way ering cheers at the station because ht could not bear the farewells and fal down one Of the campus lanes hat come on pretty Mrs. Claybourpe sit ting on a rustic bench. Again he heard her speak as plainly as if it were yes terday: "Why. if it isn't Mr. Daunt wonder how the university can oper in the fall without you!'' He had sa down beside her as she said: ''This very insistent young person with mt has been heartbroken because W, could not get tickets for the Glee clu' concert last night. She wanted to he you sing"
 He had looked up then to see young girl seated on the leaning truni Of tulip tree Her neutral tinted skirt lay against the dark bark Hel face was almost hidden by a spray ol the great creamy pink blossoms. Some quality in its delicate loveliness had made him wish to please her, and sitting there, he had sung the song that was his fevorite. Mrs. Clay