the fifth string-第7节

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among　the　employees　would　not　openly

venture　so　far；　but　rather　thought　if　his

satanic　majesty　and　old　Sanders　ran　a

race；　the　former　would　come　in　a　bad

second；　if　he　were　not　distanced　altogether。



The　old　man　always　reached　the　office

at　nine。　Mr。　Wallace　usually　arrived　a

half　hour　later；　seldom　earlier；　which　was

so　well　understood　by　Sanders　that　he

was　greatly　surprised　when　he　walked

into　the　president's　office；　the　morning

after　that　gentleman　had　attended

Diotti's　concert；　to　find　the　head　of　the

firm　already　there　and　apparently　waiting　for　him。



‘‘Sanders；''　said　the　banker；　‘‘I

want　your　advice　on　a　matter　of　great

importance　and　concern　to　me。''



Sanders　came　across　the　room　and

stood　beside　the　desk。



‘‘Briefly　as　possible；　I　am　much

exercised　about　my　daughter。''



The　old　man　moved　up　a　chair　and

buried　himself　in　it。　Pressing　his　elbows

tightly　against　his　sides；　he　drew

his　neck　in；　and　with　the　tips　of　his

right　hand　fingers　consorted　and

coquetted　with　their　like　on　the　opposite

hand；　then　he　simply　asked；　‘‘Who　is

the　man？''



‘‘He　is　the　violinist　who　has　created

such　a　sensation　here；　Angelo　Diotti。''



‘‘Yes；　I've　seen　the　name　in　print；''

returned　the　old　man。



‘‘He　has　bewitched　Mildred。　I　never

have　seen　her　show　the　least　interest　in

a　man　before。　She　never　has　appeared

to　me　as　an　impressionable　girl　or　one

that　could　easily　be　won。''



‘‘That　is　very　true；''　ejaculated

Sanders；　‘‘she　always　seemed　tractable　and

open　to　reason　in　all　questions　of　love

and　courting。　I　can　recall　several

instances　where　I　have　set　her　right　by

my　estimation　of　men；　and　invariably

she　has　accepted　my　views。''



‘‘And　mine　until　now；''　said　the

father；　and　then　he　recounted　his

experience　of　the　night　before。　‘‘I　had

hoped　she　would　not　fall　in　love；　but

be　a　prop　and　comfort　to　me　now　that

I　am　alone。　I　am　dismayed　at　the

prospect　before　me。''



Then　the　old　man　mused：　‘‘In　the

chrysalis　state　of　girlhood；　a　parent

arranges　all　the　details　of　his　daughter's

future；　when　and　whom　she　shall　marry。

‘I　shall　not　allow　her　to　fall　in　love

until　she　is　twenty…three；'　says　the　fond

parent。　‘I　shall　not　allow　her　to　marry

until　she　is　twenty…six；'　says　the　fond

parent。　‘The　man　she　marries　will　be

the　one　I　approve　of；　and　then　she　will

live　happy　ever　after；'　concludes　the

fond　parent。''



Deluded　parent！　false　prophet！　The

anarchist；　Love；　steps　in　and　disdains

all　laws；　rules　and　regulations。　When

finally　the　father　confronts　the　defying

daughter；　she　calmly　says；　‘‘Well；

what　are　you　going　to　do　about　it？''

And　then　tears；　forgiveness；　complete

capitulation；　and；　sometimes；　she　and

her　husband　live　happily　ever　afterwards。



‘‘We　must　find　some　means　to　end

this　attachment。　A　union　between　a

musician　and　my　daughter　would　be

most　mortifying　to　me。　Some　plan

must　be　devised　to　separate　them；　but

she　must　not　know　of　it；　for　she　is

impatient　of　restraint　and　will　not　brook

opposition。''



‘‘Are　you　confident　she　really　loves

this　violinist？''



‘‘She　confessed　as　much　to　me；''

said　the　perturbed　banker。



Old　Sanders　tapped　with　both　hands

on　his　shining　cranium　and　asked；

‘‘Are　you　confident　he　loves　her？''



‘‘No。　Even　if　he　does　not；　he　no　doubt

makes　the　pretense；　and　she　believes

him。　A　man　who　fiddles　for　money

is　not　likely　to　ignore　an　opportunity　to

angle　for　the　same　commodity；''　and

the　banker；　with　a　look　of　scorn　on　his

face；　threw　himself　back　into　the　chair。



‘‘Does　she　know　that　you　do　not

approve　of　this　man？''



‘‘I　told　her　that　I　desired　the

musician's　visits　to　cease。''



‘‘And　her　answer？''



‘‘She　said　she　would　obey　me　if　I

could　name　one　reasonable　objection　to

the　man；　and　then；　with　an　air　of　absolute

confidence　in　the　impossibility　of

such　a　contingency；　added；　‘But　you

can　not。'　''



‘‘Yes；　but　you　must；''　said　Sanders。

‘‘Mildred　is　strangely　constituted。　If

she　loves　this　man；　her　love　can　be

more　deadly　to　the　choice　of　her　heart

than　her　hate　to　one　she　abhors。　The

impatience　of　restraint　you　speak　of　and

her　very　inability　to　brook　opposition

can　be　turned　to　good　account　now。''

And　old　Sanders　again　tapped　in　the

rhythm　of　a　dirge　on　his　parchment…

bound　cranium。



‘‘Your　plan？''　eagerly　asked　the

father；　whose　confidence　in　his　secretary

was　absolute。



‘‘I　would　like　to　study　them　together。

Your　position　will　be　stronger　with

Mildred　if　you　show　no　open　opposition

to　the　man　or　his　aspirations；　bring　us

together　at　your　house　some　evening；

and　if　I　can　not　enter　a　wedge　of

discontent；　then　they　are　not　as　others。''



***



Mildred　was　delighted　when　her

father　told　her　on　his　return　in　the

evening　that　he　was　anxious　to　meet

Signor　Diotti；　and　suggested　a　dinner

party　within　a　few　days。　He　said　he

would　invite　Mr。　Sanders；　as　that

gentleman；　no　doubt；　would　consider　it　a

great　privilege　to　meet　the　famous

musician。　Mildred　immediately　sent　an

invitation　to　Diotti；　adding　a　request

that　he　bring　his　violin　and　play　for

Uncle　Sanders；　as　the　latter　had　found

it　impossible　to　attend　his　concerts　during

the　season；　yet　was　fond　of　music；

especially　violin　music。







X



The　little　dinner　party　passed　off

pleasantly；　and　as　old　Sanders

lighted　his　cigar　he　confided　to　Diotti；

with　a　braggart's　assurance；　that　when

he　was　a　youngster　he　was　the　best　fiddler

for　twenty　miles　around。　‘‘I　tell

you　there　is　nothing　like　a　fiddler　to

catch　a　petticoat；''　he　said；　with　a　sharp

nudge　of　his　elbow　into　Diotti's　ribs。

‘‘When　I　played　the　Devil's　Dream

there　wasn't　a　girl　in　the　country　could

keep　from　dancing；　and　‘Rosalie；　the

Prairie　Flower；'　brought　them　on　their

knees　to　me　every　time；''　then　after　a

pause；　‘‘I　don't　believe　people　fiddle　as

well　nowadays　as　they　did　in　the　good

old　times；''　and　he　actually　sighed　in

remembrance。



Mildred　smiled　and　whispered　to

Diotti。　He　took　his　violin　from　the　case

and　began　playing。　It　seemed　to　her

as　if　from　above　showers　of　silvery

merriment　were　falling　to　earth。　The　old

man　watched　intently；　and　as　the　player

changed　from　joy　to　pity；　from　love

back　to　happiness；　Sanders　never　withdrew

his　gaze。　His　bead…like　eyes　followed

the　artist；　he　saw　each　individual

finger　rise　and　fall；　and　the　bow　bound

over　the　finger…board；　always　avoiding；

never　coming　in　contact　with　the　middle

string。　Suddenly　the　old　man　beat　a

tattoo　on　his　cranium　and　closed　his

eyes；　apparently　deep　in　thought。



As　Diotti　ceased　playing；　Sanders

applauded　vociferously；　and　moving

toward　the　violinist；　said：　‘‘Magnificent！

I　never　have　heard　better　playing！

What　is　the　make　of　your　violin？''



Diotti；　startled　at　this　question；

hurriedly　put　the　instrument　in　its　case；

‘‘Oh；　it　is　a　famous　make；''　he　drawled。



‘‘Will　you　let　me　examine　it？''　said

the　elder；　placing　his　hand　on　the　case。



‘‘I　never　allow　any　one　to　touch　my

violin；''　replied　Diotti；　closing　the　cover

quickly。



‘‘Why；　is　there　a　magic　charm　about

it；　that　you　fear　other　hands　may

discover？''　queried　the　old　man。



‘‘I　prefer　that　no　one　handle　it；''

said　the　virtuoso　commandingly。



‘‘Very　well；''　sighed　the　old　man

resignedly；　‘‘there　are　violins　and　violins；

and　no　doubt　yours　comes　within　that

category；''　this　half　sneeringly。



‘‘Uncle；''　interposed　Mildred　tactfully；

‘‘you　must　not　be　so　persistent。　Signor

Diotti　prizes　his　violin　highly　and　will

not　allow　any　one　to　play　upon　it　but

himself；''　and　the　look　of　relief　on

Diotti's　face　amply　repaid　her。



Mr。　Wallace　came　in　at　that　moment；

and　with　perfunctory　interest　in　his

guest；　invited　him　to　examine　the　splendid

collection　of　revolutionary　relics　in

his　study。



‘‘I　value　them　highly；''　said　the

banker；　‘‘both　for　patriotic　and　ancestral

reasons。　The　Wallaces　fought　and

died　for　their　country；　and　helped　to

make　this　land　what　it　is。''



The　father　and　the　violinist　went　to

the　study；　leaving　the　daughter　and　old

Sanders　in　the　drawing…room。　The

old　man；　seating　himself　in　a　large　armchair；

said：　‘‘Mildred；　my　dear；　I　do

not　wonder　at　the　enormous　success　of

this　Diotti。''



‘‘He　is　a　wonderful　artist；''　replied

Mildred；　‘‘critics　and　public　alike　place

him　among　the　greatest　of　his　profession。''



‘‘He　is　a　good…looking　young　fellow；

too；''　said　the　old　man。



‘‘I　think　he　is　the　handsomest　man　I

ever　have　seen；''　replied　the　girl。



‘‘Where　does　he　come　from？''

continued　Sanders。



‘‘St。　Casciano；　a　small　town　in　Tuscany。''



‘‘Has　he　a　family？''



‘‘Only　a　sister；　whom　he　loves

dearly；''　good…naturedly　answered　the

girl。



‘‘And　no　one　else？''　continued　the

s