The Washington times., 1925-12-14

sion might provoke at home 4
his mother knew.
He tried to free himself from his
infatuation. but unsuccessfully.
With that in view he fixed his
attention on the woman's past; 1t
was said that despite her beauty
her aristocratic manners, the bril-
liancy of mind with which she
had dazzled hin1-a poor country
boy-she was only an adventures
who had made her way over haif
the globe from one pair of arms
to another. Well, in that case, 1t
would be a great exploit to win
a woman whom princes and cele-
brated men had loved! But since
that was impossible, why go on.
why continue endangering his
career and having trouble with
his mother all the time?
To forget her, he stressed be-
fore his own mind, words and at
titudes of hers that might be
judged defects; and he would
taste the joy Of duty well done
when. after such gymnastics OF
the will, he could think OF her
without great emotion.
At the beginning of life in
Madrid he imagined he had ro-
covered. But as he grew farailiar
with his new life, and the novelty
of all this adulation wore off,
tenacious recollections rose again
in his memory. At night, when
sleep relaxed the will to forget,
which his vigilance kept in pain
full tension, that blue hous5: the
green, diabolical eyes of its prtn-
cipat denizen, that pair OF fresh
lips with their ironic smile that
seemed to culver between two
rows Of cleaning white teeth,
would become the inevitable CEN
ter of all his dreams.
As he approached the place that
afternoon he was almost sick
with nervousness and emotion.
For one last time he thought Of
his mother, SO intent upon main
tanning her prestige and so fear
full Of hostile gossip; of the dema-
gogues who had thronged the
doors Of the cafes that morning,
making fun Of the demonstration
in his honor; but all his scruples
vanished at sight Of the hedge
Of tall rose-bays and prickly haw-
thorns and Of the two blue pillars
supporting a barrier of green,
wooden bars. 'Resolutely he pushed
the gate open. and entered the
garden.
Above the chattering of the
gparrows and the rustic Of the
wind in the trees, Rafael could
hear the sound Of piano-ths
keys barely touched by the play
er's fingers-and soft, timid
voice, as IL the song were meant
for the singer alone.
It was she. Rafael knew the
music: Lied by Schubert-the
favorite composer Of the day; a
master whose best work was
still unknown" as she said in
the cant she had learned from
the critics, alluding to the fact
that OILY the least subtle OF The
melancholy composers works had
thus far been popularized.
The door was closed; but through
q half-opened window he could
see a patch Of silk; a woman's
back, bending slightly forward
over the music.
AS Rafael came up a dog began
TO Dark at the enQ OF the gar
den. Some hens that had been
scratching about in sand Of the
drive, scampered off cackling with
fright. The music stopped. A
chair scraped as it was pushed
back. The lady was rising TO her
feet.
At the balcony a flowing gown
Of blue appeared; but all that
Rafael saw was pair of eyes
green eyes, that seemed to fill
the entire window with flood
of light.
''Beppa! Beppina" cried firm,
q warm, sonorous, soprano
voice, "Abri la puerta. Open the
door"
And with a slight inclination
of her splendid head Of thick