, 1921-10-07

rather the other way. It's about soneI
one. ma or a woman who How
ever, III sinx II. and then you1l know
what IT'S about III sing you some
fuany ones after I have finished H.
Theirs was \ murrnar OF delighted IN
terest.
wait TN I get . light. VIII your"
said Cathcart.
Thorold placed his own cigar care
fully on the glass rim OF n OF the
candles beside the music-rack. and. rs
he waited, turned a smiling counte-
nance upon his audience. and struck
the opening chord OF his song. The
words could have been sung by either
n man or a woman. IL hogan by tell
ing of the days OF the past tho days
that were gone. and the accompani-
mcnt suggested tho brightness OF sun
shine and OF running streams and
rustiing leaves. OF the lost Eden OF
our innocence" and OF sweet content;
then II merged suddenly into drawer
and more powerful strains as tho words
spoke OF ambitions and hopes and OF
great deeds for the life IN the future.
Thorold had a very good voice. full
OF dramatic feeling and power. and
every word he sang came to the list
encrs ear bearing its proper emphasis
as sharp and sure as the lines OF an
actors soiiioquy-
He began contemporary. but the
artist in him made II impossible for
him 10 do ought else but sing the song
well. The music changed TO low mut,er-
ingr. and the words told OF doubts and
trouble, md then broke out into passion
ate regret and agony of spirit. Thoroid
had forgotten himself and his audience.
/ Tha funaf~ nraxr ~ rnItfuna ana ffY.l
the room with a great cry OF mourn-
ing. eerie. awful. and despairing. Hope
iessness and remorse were the meaning
Of tho music and OF the words-the
impotent cry Tor the days that could
not come again. the futile regret for
the chances that had passed and that
had not been taken: and then the voice
OF the singer sank and died away with
one low deep cry. as though despairing
OF succor or relief. without faith and
without hope n the music running
on ended In a wild crash that sounded
like the laughter OF those already lost.
mocking AZ those just fallen. The room
was strangely silent.
Thoroid reached for his cigar and
relit It at the candle lie pulled IL
back Into a lame again. and then. MS
no n moved. turned slowly toward
his guests. Cnthcart sat just as he had
last noticed him. leaning forward with
tho half turned match stiii in his hand.
The girl at. his feet was staring up
at Thorold with wide-open eyes. ilead-
Ing and terrified. Her lips were al lver-
ing. n then as Thorold smihl sh,
did the only natural thing slbs had
ever done in her short. SHY, Artificial
life. ana. turning swiftly. threw herself
across cathcart's knees and burst into
a wild torrent OF tears
Thoiold sprang up with an exciama-
ton thzt was half anger and half
apology. He turned toward the older
woman o. tho two for some explant-
ton. and then sank back again, slowly
before the piano. Mrs. Inness had not
altered her position, but the meaning,
languishing smile was gone. and had
changed 10 one of frank. open-eyed
amusement. She was looking at him
as though she had known him for a
long time In the past. but as though he
had but just then disclosed himself.
Her awe OF him that he himself had
noticed earlier in the evening had
hallen from her like a cloak, and she
was smiling at him Familiarity and with
a look OF perfect understanding and
equality. Thoro1d turned away his
eyes and struck tho keys resentfuily.
80 ~ W hAl I'M Z
Mrs. Inncss rose leisurely. and swept
smiling across the room toward him,
She leaned one bare elbow on the
piano, and placed the hand of the
other arm on her hip with the arm
akirnbo and her head thrown back. In
her right hand she held the glass, and
with the forednger of the same hanr
she pointed at Thoroid. She was not
a very tall woman. but she seemed to
tower above him as he sat looking up
at her. his fingers wandering over the
keys. Her attitude was too easy to be
graceful, and to Thorold It seemed TO
hayeea ouch of menace in ii and CT
i~nsolence. h nodded her head at
him. smiling strangely between half
closed eyeiids.
And you" she said at last. speaking
slowly, and smiling with each word,
you're Archibald Thorold, are You?
You're tho man who wrote "rhe Wei;
of Truth and the oratorios, and those
operas h curates go to see. What a
Jolly fraud you are," She laughed
easily. and touched the glass to her
lips, and then pushed It away from her
across the piano. You're the man who
writes the songs tho little girls cry
over al about Love and the Ideal. oh,
KNOW, I've sung them and cried over
tHeihs too- anu now mere you are, Just
like anybody cise-aren't you? Just ar
, everyday. common. ordinary man..
Thoroid pressed heavily on the keys
beneath his fingers. Il do not think
Mrs. 1nness." he said, stih1y. that j
ever posed as being anything else.
Perhaps not the woman went on.
easily. Perhaps not. But why aren't
you different? Why are you Just like
all the other Johnnies?' She rested
her chin on the palm OF her hand. and
looked into his with frank. wide-opch
. eyes. And yet Thorold doubted her
frankness. 4 looked up at her un-
| easily.
4 dom think l understand YOU" he
said, with severe poiteness.
oh yes. you do" she laughed. light
". You know you're not k them.
I don't mean your being a swell. but
! the rest of It." She turned and pointed
her hand toward the corner where
cathcart sat in the semi-da-kness pat
ting the girls curls as. they rested On
his knee She nad xahI.I 49,