Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 2 — page 84: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

‘ ing in ordinaty human kindliness: a 234 “Then you haven’t found anything wrong about the House of the Echo?” ‘“ Nobody has been arrested for murder, so far as I know,” he evaded, paused, and gave a laugh that to Sophia did not ring altogether true. However, he was due at the inn now, he said, and must hurry along, which he presently did, leaving the girl of the bookshop wondering what strange mood had come over Alan lately. This same thought was in the young vio- linist’s mind hice. later in the evening, he was making for the office to get his pay. He confessed to at least a moral obliquity in staying on here. It was not a place in which a musician could acquire reputation or decently earn money, he now felt. Nor was he an officer of the law whose province it was to pry into suspicious circumstances, although he himself still would like to get to the bottom of them! But what was it that, every time he resolved to quit the job, held him back? “They call her a witch,” he muttered irrelevantly, with a slight smile. And he repeated it to himself when he came into the Echo’s preserfe. something peculiar about her. So cold that she could not possess a mortal heart—so implacable and so. self-sufficient—so lack- how could he reconcile these forbidding quali- ties with the undoubted attraction she held for him? To-night, too, with a filmy black scarf over her modishly dressed, faintly silvered_ hair, the light from brass desk-lamp. soften- ing the stern white features that were fine and striking and so remarkably well-pre- served; why, this was not an old woman! The Echo was bedutiful—and a woman without age! Alan’s heart leaped; he caught his “breath in wonder, The Echo’s voice, however, sae as chill as ever, Yet her manner was more ruminative, her speech more leisurely, and she talked at greater length than she ever had done before. “ How did you happen to choose music asa profession?” she asked, looking at him quizzically. Alan supposed he had absorbed the love of music while a child. There was, rie explained that THE ARGOSY. his mother had died when he was an in- fant in arms; and his father himself had fed him impartially from the bottle and the violin. ' Subsequently, his father had given him more technical instruction, but had died before Alan could receive full benefit of the elder man’s experience. The Echo inquired as to Alan’s progress under his present master; then said blunt- ly that music was well enough as a hobby, but was a thankless profession. Few men, however talented, made a very comfortable living out of it. ‘And I hear you are even now contem- plating getting married,” she added, be- stowing a keen glance upon him. “Not for a while,” said the now fidget- ing Alan. ‘ Marriage would be unfair both to your-» self and the girl,” the Echo continued se- verely. “Consider the girl. Art is long, and, unless you are a prodigy, so will be your struggle. You condemn your wife to pov- erty; you bind her to a drudgery she had hoped, in marrying; to escape. You deny her the pretty things, the luxuries, that are every woman’s due. And, don’t forget this, you thereby place temptation directly in her path. For, what a woman desires greatly, that will she secure.” Ignoring his horrified protest, she -went on: ‘Imagine yourself trying to do your best work under such conditions. A millstone round your neck—perhaps suspicion cloud- ing your brain—a sacrificing of talent, am- bition, all in the struggle to make ends meet. ; ‘“ Any fellow who is worth his salt need not stay poor forever,” said Alan doggedly. The Echo seemed not to hear him. ‘““On the other hand, suppose’ you were given the opportunity and proper leisure to study here and abroad, under the great- est masters. Suppose, for instance, a wo- man who has no desire to marry you, of- fered to finance you in this—on no se- ’ curity other than her belief that your talent would in time bring a return on the invest- ment, ‘““T believe you have exceptional talent. Gomichbooks (E@)