For Money.—Chapters IX-XI [pp. 241-254]

For Money.
"What an observer you are!" exclaimed
Louise, with the naive flattery of youth and
genuine admiration.
"I wonder if Miss Carolan is as happy in
English as she is in the other two languages.
Do you think she would mind if we coaxed
her for an English ballad, Cousin Rose?"
"I am afraid we are imposing on her,"
answered Rose, doubtfully. You might try,
though."
"I want very much to hear her sing'Auld
Robin Gray,'" said Fleming, opening his
eyes suddenly on Louise's face and drooping
his lids again.
"Oh, not that!" she exclaimed involuntarily, starting forward.
"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Waring," he
answered, gravely courteous.' I didn't
know you disliked it."
"It's such a silly thing!" returned Louise,
with an affectation of lightness. "Miss Carolan, won't you please sing'Auld Robin
Gray'? It is a special favorite with Mr.
Fleming."
Georgie complied, and under his eyelids
Fleming watched the color slowly draining
out of Mrs. Waring's cheeks, and the nervous
clasping of her hands. There is something
in an English song that always appeals to
people, and a little burst of applause greeted
the close of Georgie's ballad, in which Louise
joined heartily. She rose, and went to her
husband, and laid her hand on his shoulder.
"Marion," she said in a distinct voice,
"do you remember the fat widow who used
to sing that to the consumptive college boy
down at the Sierra Madre Villa? She made
the song perfectly ridiculous, Miss Carolan;
but your singing has brought it back to its
rightful place, and I'm sure Mr. Waring and
I owe you a vote of thanks."
"She was pretty awful," said Mr. Waring,
giving her a look of undisguised affection for
this unwonted demonstration. "I wonder
if she got him."
A look of placid satisfaction overspread
Fleming's face, as she took a chair by Dr.
Jack; and Rose, seeing Mr. Waring lead
Georgie to the sofa, bestowed herself comfortably opposite her cousin, and made a
quartette of small talk with him, her hus band, and Louise.
"You sing like a professional. You may
think that's flattery, but it isn't," said Mr.
Waring. "You mustn't think I'm imperti nent if I ask you a few questions, but your
voice has interested me wonderfully. Now
I know you are giving piano lessons. Have
you any singing scholars?"
"I did have one, but she lost her voice,
through no fault of mine. That was against
me, though. I may succeed in time."
"Why don't you sing in a church?"
"I'm not influential enough to get into a
church. I tried, but there were so many
favorites, that there was no hope for me. I
couldn't even get a trial Sunday."
"Have you ever tried concerts?"
"No, it happened this way. You see, just
when I was ready to come before the public
my singing teacher quarrelled with most of
the musicians. Poor old man, he was so
irascible and unreasonable, I didn't blame
them, but it made it very bad for me. He
did get up a little concert to bring me out,
but it was a failure; we didn't even pay expenses; and now I can't afford the risk of
hiring a hall, and going to the expense of a
concert."
"Those things are not apt to be successful, anyhow," said Mr. Waring thoughtfully.
"I have known of so many people being disappointed when they tried it." He knew
whereof he spoke, for his known fondness
for music and kindness of heart made him
the first object of every musician's quest for
patrons when they projected concerts.
"You must have favorite musicians to
help you, and support you, and though I am
a musician myself, I know of so few of them,
living quietly over here as I do. I have no
mother, you know, and I have had to judge
for myself always, since her death, some
years ago, when I was a good deal younger
than I am now. I must wait for my happy
time, and if it doesn't come, why,"-she
smiled-" I am no worse off than other people."
"You are a brave woman, I know that,"
said Mr. Waring. "Don't throw yourself
247
1886.]