The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-05-20

chintz-covered seat i've wanted very much to talk to you.'
 She followed him protestingly. 'tBut I didn't come to be talked to I came to listen to you play"
 You always arrive in the midst of music,' he laughed. 'I played you in, without knowing it. That was an Elfentanz
 Whats that?"
 "A dance of the E1ves-the fair les" And then, with a laugh, And the little devils
 The little devils? You mean mel"
 "Elf-fairy and devil. too-but mostly elf.''
 I'm not sure I like that-but do like the music. Please play it again."
 She was so lovely in her eagerness that he couldn't refuse. his fingers straying from the dance by slow transitions into something more quiet. the Romance" of Sibelius, and then the end of which he turned suddenly to find her flushed and breathless, re- garding him in a kind of awe.
 How lovelyi" she whispered. There were no devils in that"
 "No. only fairies"
 Angels, too but somethin' else that quiet piece-like the-the memory or a-a-SorrOW.
 Romance it's called" he ex- platned gently.
 "Oh!"
 ''The things we dream. The things that ought to be, but aren't.'
 She took a deep breath. "Yes, that's it. That's what it meant. I felt it." And then, as though with a sudden shyness at her self-revelation, she glanced about. What a pretty place I've never been here before"
 ''How did you find your way?"
 "Oh, I knew where the cabin was I came through the woods and across the long-jam below the pool. Then I heard the music. I didn't think you'd mind.''
 Mind! Oh I say. I don't know when I've been so pleased.
 Are you really? You say a lot.'
 Didn't I play 1t ?''
 That confused her little
 "Oh," she said demurely.
 And now, will you talk to me?"
 "Yes, of course. But"
 But what--?"
 I'm not sure that I ought to be here"
 Why not?"
 Its kind of-unusuaI"
 He laughed-"You wouldn't be you, if you weren't unusual"
 
 You see, I don't know you very we'll"
 You're very exclusive in Black Rock!" he laughed
 'T guess we have to be exclusive whether we want to or not" she re- piled.
 Don't you think I'll do7"
 Maybe. I oughtn't to have come. but I just couldn't keep away"
 "I'n1 glad UOl1 did s,. you"
 "It wasn't that" she put in hastily. T had to hear you play again, That's what I mean"
 'Tn play for you whenever you like"
 will you? Then play again, now. It makes me feel all queer insire."
 Peter laughed. Do you feel that way when you sing?"
 "No. It all comes out of me then"
 Would you mind singing for me- Beth? ?' he asked after a moment
 TT don't think I dare"
 He got up and went to the piano What do you sing?"
 But she hadn't moved and she did mt reply. So he urged her.
 "In the woods when you're coming "Oh. don't know It tust comes out-things I've heard-things make up@'
 What have you heard 2" he re- peated softly. encoura ging her by rum ming her fingers slowly over the sim pie chords of maor key.
 Suddenly she started up and joined him by the piano.
 That's it-'Tis long. long trail a. winin-" and in a moment was singing softly. He had heard the air and fell in with her almost at once There's long long trail a-wind,ng
 Into the land of my dreams Where the nightingale is singing
 And a bright moon beams
 Like the good musician that he was Peter submerged himself playing gently. his gaze on his fingers. while he listened. He had made no mis- take. The distances across which he had heard her had not flattered Her voice was untrained, of course but it seemed to Peter that it had lost noth- ing by the neglect, for as she gained confidence she forgot Peter, as he in- tended that she should, and sang with the complete abstraction of a thrush In the deep wood. Like the thrush's note, too, Beth's was limpid, clear and sweet, full of forest sounds-the fall ing brook, the sigh of night winds When the song ended he told her so
 You do say nice things don't your" she said joyously Wouldn't you-if it cost you noth- ing and was the truth ? You must have your voice trained"
 Must I might jump over the moon if I had a broomst:ck" Its got to be managed somehow I"
 Then you're not disappointed in the way it sounds. close up?" She stood beside him, leaning against the piano. her face flushed her breath rapid. searching his face Peter knew that it was only the dormant artist in her seeking the light, but he thrilled warmly at her nearness, for she was very lovely