Idaho County free press. [volume] (Grangeville, Idaho Territory) 1886-current, 1916-12-07
Mothers
Emerald
A Love Story.
By AGNES C. BROGAN
A Love Story.

But when l CONSIDERED tnat the STU
deat being musical, might also be the
possessor of an uncertain temperament
my troubles appeared to be increasing.
One like father was bad enough in any
family, flying Off on the slightest provo
cation into a fit of temper or, in his
better moods, listening apparently
with an appreciative smile as one re-
lated some personal incident, only to
ind at its conclusion that his mind
had been engaged with some beloved
''score." Nora, the cook, was my only
comfort, and Nora had not what one
might call an understanding" mind.
Father told me his plan one evening
with his customary hardness. The stu
dent was to arrive at 8 o'clock and
disposal. He was coming free" upon
condition of exchanging secretary
work for lessons. This alone was a
recommendation to the students mu-
steal ability. Father would receive no
pupil without promise of skill. Elk
citedly he named the young man as
"his discovery. Eric Knowlson's flu
ture, he said, was assured. So l went
to mothers picture about 1t. l have
q way of going to mothers picture in
all my joys and perplexities to receive
advice from its soft eyes. You see,
mother left this world as l entered,
slipping out very silently before even
my baby arms could reach her.
Mother" sighed, IF we must have
another man in this house, OH let us
hope that he may be a sane one! My
experience with men ended with ia
Their, and l fancied them all like him.
Nora encouraged me in this belief.
They're all the very old devil" she
said. And with her remark in my ears
I ran into the music room and incl
dentally also into the student. The
sudden encounter surprised him as
much as 1t did me. He had been re-
moving his violin from it's case, whis-
Ting softly. His whistle stopped
abruptly. Then after we had stared
at each other awhile he bowed.
Eric Knowlson," he explained.
"Mercyv' exclaimed rudely. 81
should never have guessed 1t, Not the
violinist?"
"The same" he replied, "long hair
and soulful eyes missing perhaps" He
smiled. Bound to be failure then.
None of the essentials"
II am Professor Ludlow's daugh-
ter" stifily reproved him, "and will
show you to your ROOM"
at is my turn to say 'Mercyr | new
er should have guessed it." the young
man remarked pleasantly. ''Your ia
Their has always spoken of you as my
daughter, the housekeeper,' Naturally
imagined staid, sensible appearing
sort of person. Again, none Of the es-
sentials."
Suddenly my smile answered his.
"You shall see" | challenged So.
with free ard merry chatter we found
ourselves in the short space before
dinner upon astonishingly friendly
terms 1t was fathers forbidding pres
ence which cast formality over the
meal. Afterward, upon the top step of
the stairs, | listened to their music,
father at the piano. the student with
his violin. And the sweet strains of
the instrument at his charmed touch
caused even me. surfeited with music.
to linger. Into the Spring Song"
came a dominant. personal note, that
was suddenly a clear. compelling call.
Slowly I moved In answer down the
stairs then paused perplexedly in the
doorway. The student smiled.
81 called you" he said daringly. "and
knew that you would come"
30 our love began, abruptly, mex
plicably.
One day Eric told me the story of
his life. Uneventful 1t had been. yet
one of sacrifice. His father. a violin
list, had deserted Eric and his mother
just as the lad was beginning to realize
his inherited musical gift. After that
he had quietly laid his ambition aside
with his violin and turned to care for
his mother. And now she was dead.
now only had he dared to indulge his
dreams. and father In a measure had
made this possible. For himself money
had not mattered. he said. There had
been but one thing he coveted-a white
marble stone for his mothers grave.
This he must have. And now there's
you. Nancer' he cried 81 must have
your Then he caught up my hand to
look at my rings-mother's emerald and
It's tiny guard. 80.
Dear" he said. "at first l feared
this costly ring might be significant"
"Oh, no." I told him. "It has been
the betrothal ring Of our family, hand
ed down for generations. Fathers
mother placed II upon my own dear
mothers finger, and now that she is
gone father trusts II In my keeping"
at is OF great value" Eric said. his
eyes suddenly aglow as he bent over
the MondrOus stone. then with his first