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HER MOTHER'S FATHER CAME FOR HER
swered him. And the gentle mother, hearing, smiled to herself at the unconscious harmony they made.
And nearer the reluctant lips of Genius bent, and ever nearer, drawing from these hearts a symphony of souls — a symphony of tears and high desire and calling blood — an ecstasy — a twilight prayer — a mating cry — a divinity of sound.
And then, one evening, as Earl was returning from an unsuccessful interview with a publisher, a little notice in the paper caught his eye — a few little words sandwiched in between world-disturbing items. ' ' Information Wanted," it read; then the words, "Lydia Austen, nee Vance,
or daughter Elaine " Lydia!
Elaine ! Why, Lydia was the daughter who had left her father's home for the man who broke her heart and sent her tiny daughter into the world with blinded eyes! And Elaine — Elaine was his love, his Spirit of the Violin, his own. And some one else was wanting her ! A
great pain grew in the musician's soul — a pain that swept aside all barriers and gripped him in its vise. Genius leaned low and tempted him. He felt the throbbing of a dirge in his keen finger-tips, but he swept it aside. "It would be a dead thing," he muttered, "with the soul of it gone."
All the weary homeward way he pondered on the thing that he had read. She was happy — he knew that well. She was his ; and from the love of their souls, the blood of their hearts, the lance-true faith of them, they were giving to the world one perfect thing. And now money stepped in — money, with its fleshly power, its paved ways, its padded luxuries. What had she to do with money? Had they not justified poverty by their love ? What had she to do with money? Somehow that phrase stuck. He thought for an instant of the flower-stem slenderness of her — the way her great, night-dim eves burned in the moon-whiteness of
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