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but this unfriendly attitude soon gave way to evidences of kindlier
feelings。
Mildred was there； more beautiful than ever； and to gain her love
Diotti would have bartered his soul that moment。
The first movement of the suite was entitled ‘‘Pity；'' and the music
flowed like melodious tears。 A subdued sob rose and fell with the sadness
of the theme。
Mildred's eyes were moistened as she fixed them on the lone figure of
the player。
Now the theme of pity changed to hope； and hearts grew brighter
under the spell。 The next movement depicted joy。 As the virtuoso's fingers
darted here and there； his music seemed the very laughter of fairy voices；
the earth looked roses and sunshine； and Mildred； relaxing her position
and leaning forward in the box； with lips slightly parted； was the picture of
eager happiness。
The final movement came。 Its subject was love。 The introduction
depicted the Arcadian beauty of the trysting place； love…lit eyes sought
each other intuitively and a great peace brooded over the hearts of all。
Then followed the song of the Passionate Pilgrim：
‘‘If music and sweet poetry agree； As they must needs； the sister and
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the brother； When must the love be great 'twixt thee and me Because thou
lov'st the one； and I the other。
***
Thou lov'st to hear the sweet melodious sound That Phoebus' lute （the
queen of music） makes； And I in deep delight； am chiefly drown'd When
as himself to singing he betakes。 One god is god of both； as poets One
knight loves both； and both in thee remain。''
Grander and grander the melody rose； voicing love's triumph with
wondrous sweetness and palpitating rhythm。 Mildred； her face flushed
with excitement； a heavenly fire in her eyes and in an attitude of
supplication； reveled in the glory of a new found emotion。
As the violinist concluded his performance an oppressive silence
pervaded the house； then the audience； wild with excitement； burst into
thunders of applause。 In his dressing…room Diotti was besieged by hosts of
people； congratulating him in extravagant terms。
Mildred Wallace came； extending her hands。 He took them almost
reverently。 She looked into his eyes； and he knew he had struck the chord
responsive in her soul。
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VIII
The sun was high in the heavens when the violinist awoke。 A great
weight had been lifted from his heart； he had passed from darkness into
dawn。
A messenger brought him this note：
My Dear Signor DiottiI am at home this afternoon； and shall be
delighted to see you and return my thanks for the exquisite pleasure you
gave me last evening。 Music； such as yours； is indeed the voice of heaven。
Sincerely；
Mildred Wallace。
The messenger returned with this reply：
My Dear Miss WallaceI will call at three to…day。
Gratefully； Angelo Diotti。
He watched the hour drag from eleven to twelve； then counted the
minutes to one； and from that time until he left the hotel each second was
tabulated in his mind。 Arriving at her residence； he was ushered into the
drawing…room。 It was fragrant with the perfume of violets； and he stood
gazing at her portrait expectant of her coming。
Dressed in simple white； entrancing in her youthful freshness； she
entered； her face glowing with happiness； her eyes languorous and
expressive。 She hastened to him； offering both hands。 He held them in a
loving； tender grasp； and for a moment neither spoke。 Then she； gazing
clearly and fearlessly into his eyes； said： ‘‘My heart has found its melody！''
He； kneeling like Sir Gareth of old： ‘‘The song and the singer are
yours forever。 ''
She； bidding him arise： ‘‘And I forever yours。'' And wondering at her
boldness； she added； ‘‘I know and feel that you love meyour eyes
confirmed your love before you spoke。'' Then； convincingly and
ingenuously； ‘‘I knew you loved me the moment we first met。 Then I did
not understand what that meant to you； now I do。''
He drew her gently to him； and the motive of their happiness was
defined in sweet confessions： ‘‘My love； my lifeMy life； my love。''
The magic of his music had changed her very being； the breath of love
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was in her soul； the vision of love was dancing in her eyes。 The child of
marble； like the statue of old； had come to life：
‘‘And not long since I was a cold； dull stone！ I recollect
That by some means I knew that I was stone； That was the first dull gleam
of consciousness； I became conscious of a chilly self； A cold； immovable
identity。 I knew that I was stone； and knew no more！ Then； by an
imperceptible advance； Came the dim evidence of outer things； Seen
darkly and imperfectlyyet seen The walls surrounding me； and I； alone。
That pedestalthat curtainthen a voice That called on Galatea！ At that
word； Which seemed to shake my marble to the core； That which was dim
before； came evident。 Sounds； that had hummed around me； indistinct；
Vague； meaninglessseemed to resolve themselves Into a language I could
understand； I felt my frame pervaded by a glow That seemed to thaw my
marble into flesh； Its cold； hard substance throbbed with active life； My
limbs grew supple； and I movedI lived！ Lived in the ecstasy of a new…
born life！ Lived in the love of him that fashioned me！ Lived in a thousand
tangled thoughts of hope。''
Day after day he came； they told their love； their hopes； their
ambitions。 She assumed absolute proprietorship in him。 She gloried in her
possession。
He was born into the world； nurtured in infancy； trained in childhood
and matured into manhood； for one express purposeto be hers alone。 Her
ownership ranged from absolute despotism to humble slavery； and he was
happy through it all。
One day she said： ‘‘Angelo； is it your purpose to follow your
profession always？''
‘‘Necessarily； it is my livelihood；'' he replied。
‘‘But do you not think that after we stand at the altar； we never should
be separated？''
‘‘We will be together always；'' said he； holding her face between his
palms； and looking with tender expression into her inquiring eyes。
‘‘But I notice that women cluster around you after your concertsand
shake your hand longer than they shouldand talk to you longer than they
shouldand go away looking self… satisfied！'' she replied brokenly； much
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as a little girl tells of the theft of her doll。
‘‘Nonsense；'' he said； smiling； ‘‘that is all part of my profession； it is
not me they care for； it is the music I give that makes them happy。 If； in
my playing； I achieve results out of the common； they admire me！'' and he
kissed away the unwelcome tears。
‘‘I know；'' she continued； ‘‘but lately； since we have loved each other； I
can not bear to see a woman near you。 In my dreams again and again an
indefinable shadow mockingly comes； and cries to me； ‘he is not to be
yours； he is to be mine。' ''
Diotti flushed and drew her to him ‘‘Darling；'' his voice carrying
conviction； ‘‘I am yours； you are mine； all in all； in life here and beyond！''
And as she sat dreaming after he had gone； she murmured petulantly； ‘‘I
wish there were no other women in the world。''
Her father was expected from Europe on the succeeding day's steamer。
Mr。 Wallace was a busy man。 The various gigantic enterprises he served as
president or director occupied most of his time。 He had been absent in
Europe for several months； and Mildred was anxiously awaiting his return
to tell him of her