Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-06-08

tain little feathery song that you may know,
since it was written by you
By mel" Eric gasped.
Yes, little thing you wrote sometime
aso-1 suppose you've quite forgotten it.
The Sharpsteins often send me copies of
their new music, and | thought this was
beautiful. AT first, however, did not know
that it was yours, and
she paused, for Eric was staring at her IN
~ terror. So his secret was out! This was
tie surprise that Mary had concocted for
ham! She had brought him there to confront
him with the evidence of his hypocrisy, and
TINS was her MEANS to have professional
singer carol the hideous thing aloud, in his
PRESENCE!
Yes, yes, know he stammered. a
lad almost forgotten it. 1t was Just lark,
y,u know-they rather dared me to see if l
could do it. 1-ha- hats very funny,
don't you Think"
why, no, said the singer. II think it
is beautiful: not only your melody, but the
sentiment in those beautiful lines of Keats"
"Ah!' Eric sighed sigh of relief that
came from his boots He had forgotten
He had not even known that the Sharp
stems had published it. The-the other had
come along just then, and "Oh, thank
thought Thought"
Mary came up Just then I'm afraid"
said the singer, "that I've shocked Mr..
Davenant by telling him | was going to sing
his Shed No Tear You should have told
me that he did not care for it."
Not at all" he persisted, with a smile at
Mary as much as to say, "There! You see,
I've found out your great surprise.' Mot
at all, I'm sure. Please sing it, or shall feel
that have offended YOU"
THE idea, Eric!" said Mary, during the
applause that followed the singing of the
song. "The idea of being ashamed of so
beautiful a thing as that! I'm afraid, Eric,
you re growing too musical even for me-
Your ideals are too high for this world, per-
haps:
"You are my IDEAL" he said.
Perhaps she did not hear him. for others
crowded about, congratulating him, and she
was gone.
He sought to get near her after that; but
there was too much of crush. Finally,
when she went out to the dining room, he
followed; but even then she escaped him in
some way, though he could almost have
sworn that she had looked over her shoulder
and seen him communicating him on, as it
were. He found difficulty in getting out of
the dining room, once he was there: the
crowd seemed insistent on holding him
round the punchbowl, where he did not
want to linger. He wanted to be where
Mary was. Suddenly he heard something
that caused him to drop his punch glass
with a crash. From the music room in front
came sound that he could not mistake A
high tenor voice was singing:
gotter hand it to you. Kid!
You're all the goods can see!
got money,
So be my honey.
Oh. say that you'll mar-ar-ry me-e-ee!
There's little church rou-ound the corner,
Where we can be welded at two.
Then we'll cuddle and spoon
On our honeymoo-oon.
'Cau-ause-I got-ter hand it TOGO you-o-o-ou!
THE room swan before him. A thousand
other voices seemed to be taking it up.
He could hear those about him blattng the
horrible thing. It's damnable strains choked
the hallway, as the piano repeated the re-
frain louder and louder. Oh, what hideous
revenge for her to take on him! How long
had she known about him? Had she led
him on all this time2 Were all her words
about his "high ideals" only the most biting
sarcasm? What a fool he had been not to
see it! But he would battle her! He would
deny it-no, he would escape
"Erici Eric! Don't you recognize it-that
voice." 1t was Mary, her hand grasping his