Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1915-05-31

| His story of the voice. of the way
that voice had come into his own life.
had touched chords in the woman Of
which he had been ignorant-that he
could see readily In the two days
since Madame's tour had brought her
| to Los Angeles, where she remained
as the guest OF her old friend and
compatriot he had learned more Of
her human side than many years con-
tact had given him And now he was
seeing that he was not alone in md
Ing the road hard. the fruits turned
bitter upon the palate.
Little Dora twisted her ankle one
morning while 1 was busy with a
pupil; Young Merwin was driving past
and helped the child. He recognized
me Immediately. though I had quite
forgotten him-you see he was nothing
but a voice to me-but when he re-
called that evening and the scene"
He shrugged alphabetically, sheepishly.
We'll. l knew that II was Fate.
offered to cultivate his voice and take
my pay in the future. when 1t had
proved itself"
And you wish me to listen when he
comes?"
He is waiting now" de Rstshy
smiled as he consulted his watch. He
Is always early for his lesson. mwill-
Ing to lose moment of the time" He
nodded to the maid who ushered into
the room a blushinR. roughly clad
young man. who flushed hotly as he
returned the friendly pressure OF the
great vocalist's hand. then turned nat
urally TO the piano as she expressed
the desire to hear his voice.
Her eyes lighted admiringly at his
coolness. the quiet confidence with
which he accepted the professors
choice of the aria from Boheme, that
most difficult. most complex in its de-
mands OF all tenor solos. the utter for
getfulners of her presence
You were right. de Retsky. right"
The murmured TT is a voice that
belongs to the world. a voice that
ioes not belong to you any longer.
You are the singer. old friend. more
han the great teacher of voice pro-
iuction. This is The Voice. 1t belongs
20 Spreglia of Paris, Lamperti in Ber-
in. old Vanuncchini of Florence. Syn
ley Dalton. here in the United States.
n New York. shall have it finally. And
ne will coach. will make the opera
singer out of the man with The Voice.
Oh, l shall attend to all that 1 must
have my share in this discovery. de
Retsky.
She turned to where the singer had
eeen and de Retsky frowned as he saw
mis- protege had slipped away under
sover Of the great vocalist's enthus-
I asm. He looked at her uneasily for
some sign of irritation but a smile
urked about the corners of her mouth
THE little country girl who was
!eeding the turkeys" she said softly,
curious glitter in her eyes as though
l vagrant tear had somehow found q
resting place there. "Ah, well, it will
make her happy. de Retslxy. And hap
piness should be crowded upon her
low"
The two who had eaten of the fruit
avoided meeting eyes. II was as
though they feared to read each
others fear, as though they realized
themselves but children kindling bon
Tres in dry virgin forests.
And their fear seemed by some odd
freak to have transferred itself to a
Tiny cottage in the outskirts Of the
city, where a little woman bent her
head the lower over her knitting while
her husband joyously. eagerly told for
the twentieth time of his experience.
She could not analyze the mixture OF
emotions tugging at her very heart
strings the joyous ache, the leaden
ecstasy, the torturing delight all
struggling there for mastery.
Europe, Ann! The greatest teach
srs of the world! Just think OF It'll
Why. 1t seems impossible! Wealth,
lame. honor. everything"
/ The tear that had trembled so long
L time upon the fringe of her iashes.
dropped to the tiny shoe upon which
she was knitting. clung there until his
eyes rested upon IT, He lifted the
1impled chin. looking searchingly into
he eyes of her and something stern.
something selfish. something she had
never seen before in his own eyes
made her rise confusedly.
/ Aren't you happy Ann? Aren't you
glad? Can't you see what 1t means?"
She trembled violently under the
pressure Of his hands upon her shoul-
1ers And yet she knew 1t was not
that precious weight that seemed so
heavy. so onorous. Then in tempest
of sentiment she flung herself against
| mis- broad chest. smuggling there as
hough for protection from some gro
esque face that threateningly obtruded
between them. His voice was puzzled
Is he attempted to lift the face against
lis chest
Aren't you happy. Ann?" he re-
oeated.
She nodded a trifle jerkily. then
Ilowly lifted her eyes to meet his
Swn.
so happy, Henry, that-Tm afraid
II it--of my happiness" she answered
sraveIy.
CTo Be Continued Tomorrow
--------