The Natchitoches enterprise., 1912-12-05
HER TRUE MUSIC,
The Surprise That Came After
the Lovers Were Engaged.
Nv nErrlhA MAYHEM.

Press.
est. James park7 Pardon me. Dan
you direct me to the Woodson resi-
aenceT
The parks thick turf had deadened
the sound Of the steps; hence the two
clerical looking gentlemen had OBJ
served at close range for some time
the girl in the swing before either Of
them spoke.
For q minute a sensitive face, fram-
cd by a big hat, lifted, and a pair Of
glowing black eyes Travelled with slow
elaboration from one to the other be-
lore she replied.
1.-THE Rraystone, nrst turn to the
left"
Then she resumed her book, the
wide hat dropping 80 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, land 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. It was broad and low
crowned. a mass Of white peoples
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 its more than full quota Of hooks,
sunny and conspicuous or unexpected
and shadowy, had something to do
with the Rev. Paurs 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 q 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 q child. That, OF course. was
years ago. She was now probably web
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. 1egretting,
and now-what If He laughed softly
and sought his sister.
In the dining room. when he entered,
TIE nRretty girl. p ttier than he had
.suxeE sks ;sseaA i-has- haaa~aR-tha.
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. Mr.. Condor.
Just think, Ada" she laughed gayly,
''for the whole of the summer they
have nothing to do nor a thought or
wish but to amuse. That list we were
preparing for our summer reading
"Oh, Sarar' Eager and bright the
clear voice foated from the foot Of the
table. I'VE must-we must first finish
that story Of 'Sindbad the Sailor 1t ID
Maupassant's very best. MaupassantT r
she reflected. Perhaps, now, it's Poe,
or maybe" and the big childish eyes
sought those In turn Of each present
"No; ] have 1t. It's Halifax. Am I
right? Sara, do set me straight"
Mrs. Woodson's hands dropped heavy
on her unfolded napkin, and the Rev.
Paul's 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
Tor 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 q 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-
steal as her rendition of famous con-
certo and disappearing early with
pleasant good night
"A charming young GIRL" ventured
Rev. MIR. Condor, and the Rev. Paul
scenforced the remark with: For all
the world like a white butterfly. Has
she never gone to school. SaraY'
But II Ada had not womanly graces
and scholarship she possessed an &C.
complishment out Of the usual, a con-
slant eruption Of small talk. No con-
versation, serious or learned, could re-
sist II. Without thought she cleft It
ut blow. severins each thread past
hope Of redemption.
"TiRkling cymbals," the Rev. Paul
remarked one day, watching the ny
Ing. whirling white figure in pursuit
Of butterflies In the occasional patches
OF sunshine among the great trees.
TITS pity 20 exquisite a creature
should be $3.50 You ought 30 send
her to school Sara"