The Detroit times. [volume] (Detroit, Mich.) 1903-1920, 1913-10-16

est scrutiny 20 discern where the
mountain tops ended and the sky be-
gan IL vas q day for indoors, Tor
dreams, good books and good tei'
lows.
Tho old-fashioned photographers
would have admired and striven To
perpetuate the group in the drawing
room. In the old days II was quite
the proper thing TO snap the family
group while they were engaged in
some pleasant pastime. such as spin
ming OF painting china, or playing
The piano, or reading volume OF
poems. No one ever seemed TO both
or about the incongruence OF the eyes,
which were invariably focused at the
camera lens. Here they all were.
Mrs. Harrigan Vas deep in the intri-
cate maze OF the Amelia AIRS OF Bo-
| logna, which, as the initiated know.
| Is a wonderful lace. BY one OF the
windows sat Nora, winding intermin
able yards OF lace-hemming from OF
the willing II aching digits OF the
Barone, who was specializing as TO
what his Neapolitan club friends
would say could they see by some
trick Of crystal-gaxing, his present &C.
oupation. Celeste was at the piano.
playing (pianissimo) snatches from
the operas, while Abbott looked on,
bis elbows propped upon his knees.
bis chin in his palms, and a quality
OF ecstatic content In his eyes. He
was in his working clothes. pictur.
OsQue II paintdaubed The morning
had been pleasant enough. but just
before luncheon the rain clouds had
gathered and settled down with that
suddennees known only In high alti-
tudes.
The ex-gladiatoE sat one one of
those slender mockeries, composed of
gold-leaf and parabolic curves and
faded brocade, such as one sees at
the Trianon or upon the stage or In
the new home OF new millionaire,
and which. II the true facts be known.
the ingenious Louis invented for the
discomfort O his favorites and the
folly OF future collectors. II creaked
whenever Harigan sighed. which was
often. for he was deeply immersed
land no better word could be select
ed to fit his mental condition) In the
baneful book which he had hurled
OUT or the window the night before.
only to retrieve like the good dog
that he was. Today his shoes Of.
Tered no loophole to criticism: he
had very well attended to that. His
tie harmonized with his shirt ana
stockings: his suit was Of grey tweed:
in fact. he was the glass of fashion
| and the mold Of form. at least for
| the present.
T. Say. Molly. don't see what diff
ference It makes"
difference what makes. lame. p.
Mrs. Harrigan raised her ewes from
ner work. lanes had hssn SO well.
Denaved that morning II was only
logical for her to anticipate that he
was about to abolish at one fell stroke
all his hard-earned merits.
ABOUT eating salads. We never
used To put oil on our tomatoes
sugar and vinegar were good enough {"
sugar and vinegar are not nour.
ishing: olive-oil u.s."
We seemed to hike alonr all right
before we learned that" His qua "A.
ian angel was alert this time, and he
returned to his delving without fur.
tner comment BY and by he got I'M.
"Pshaw!" He dropped the wearisome
volume on the reading.table. took mn
paper-covered novel, and turned TO
the last fight of the blacksmith in Rod.
ney Stone. Here was something tn At
made the invention Of type excusable.
even commendable.
Play the fourth ballade," urged
Abbott
Celeste was really a great artist.
As an interpreter OF Chopin she had
no rival among women, and only ons
man was her equal. She had fire, ten.
derness, passion, strength: she had
beyond all these. soul. which IL worth
more In true expression than the most
marvellous technique. She had chos-
en- Chopin for his brilliance az some
will chose Turner In preference to
Corot; riots Of color, barbaric and
tingling. She was as great a genius
in her way as Nora was In hers. There
was something OF the elfin child In |
her spirit Whenever she played to |
Abbott, there was q quality In the ex.
preston that awakened q wonderment
In Nora's heart.
As Celeste began the andante. Nora |
signified to the Barone to drop his |
work. She let her own hands fall. |
Harrigan gently closed his book, for |
In that rough kindly soul Of his lay q |
mighty love Of music. He himself was |
without expression OF any sort and |
somehow music seemed to stir the
dim and not quite understandable |
longing for utterance Mrs. Harrigan
alone went on with her work; she
could work and listen at the same
time. After the magnificent finale,
nothing In the room stirred but her |
needle
Bravo" cried the Barone, break.
ing the spell.
You never played that better" de-
clared Nora.
Celeste, to escape the keen inquiry
Of her friend and to cover up her en-
barrassment, dashed into one of the
lighter compositions. a waltz. II was
q fGvorite OF Nora's. She rose and
went over TO the piano and rested a
hand upon Celeste's shoulder And
her voice took up the mol
ody. Mrs. Harrfgan dropped her
needle. II was not that she was par
ticularly fond Of music, but there was
In Nora's singing that cast
a temporary spell OF enchantment over
her. rendering her speechless and mo-
tionless. She was not OF an analytical
turn OF mind; thus. the truth escaped
her She was really lost in admiration
of herself: she had produced this
being!
That's some" Harrigan beat his
hands together fhunderously. Great
stuff. oh ia rppao" |