<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></SPAN>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
<h3>THE MESSAGE OF THE VIOLIN</h3>
<p>The news of the finding of the lost money in the haunted house came out
in the evening paper, and set the whole town of Oakdale agog with
excitement.</p>
<p>The sensational robbery at the close of the Thanksgiving bazaar was too
bold to have been forgotten, and the news of the recovery of the
hard-earned money was a matter of delight to the public-spirited
citizens of the little northern city.</p>
<p>The haunted house soon lost its ghost reputation, and was ransacked by
small boys on the hunt for sliding panels and hidden treasure until the
owner of the place, who had been absent from Oakdale, took a hand in
things and threatened severe penalties for trespassing, which greatly
cooled the ardor of the youthful treasure-seekers.</p>
<p>As for Grace Harlowe and Eleanor Savelli, they were the bright and
shining lights of the town and the darlings of the senior class.</p>
<p>The two girls had become firm friends. After the excitement of the
finding of the money had worn off, they had had a long talk and had
cleared up all misunderstandings. Eleanor had confessed to Grace that
long before they had been brought together she had secretly tired of the
old grudge and had longed for peace.</p>
<p>"After Edna Wright and I quarreled, I began to see things in a different
light," Eleanor had confided to Grace, "and the longing for the
companionship of your kind of girls took hold of me so strongly it made
me miserable at times.</p>
<p>"How I did envy you when you all went to the house party at Christmas,
and I was wild to go to New York and see Anne, although I suppose I am
the last person she would care to see.</p>
<p>"It wasn't just the good times, either, that I coveted, it was that
sense of comradeship that existed among you girls that I didn't at all
understand last year."</p>
<p>"But, Eleanor," Grace had said, "if you felt that way, why were you so
determined to expose poor Marian Barber!"</p>
<p>"When Marian told me what she had done I felt the utmost contempt for
her," Eleanor had replied. "My old idea of vengeance came to the front,
and I thought of how completely I could humiliate you all through her.
The day I quarreled with her in school I fully intended to expose her,
but the more I thought about it, the less I liked the idea of it. I
don't really believe that I could ever have stood up before those girls
and betrayed her."</p>
<p>While Grace had listened to Eleanor, she had realized that the old
whimsical, temperamental Eleanor was passing, and an entirely different
girl was endeavoring to take her place. Grace exulted in her heart and
dreamed great things for the Phi Sigma Tau when it should be restored to
its original number of members.</p>
<p>Eleanor had announced herself ready and eager to take her old place in
the sorority, while Marian Barber had, with tears in her eyes, humbly
petitioned Grace for her old place in the Phi Sigma Tau.</p>
<p>"Silly girl," was Grace's answer. "You can't go back to what you never
left, can you?"</p>
<p>No one save Grace, Eleanor and Mr. Harlowe knew of how near Marian had
come to being discredited in the eyes of her class and friends, and they
could be trusted with the secret.</p>
<p>Henry Hammond had left Oakdale the morning after he had been interviewed
by Grace and Eleanor, and it was afterwards discovered that the land in
which he had persuaded certain guileless citizens to invest money had
proved worthless. The swindled ones joined forces and put the matter in
the hands of a detective, but to no purpose, for no clue was found to
his whereabouts.</p>
<p>The strong box was turned over to the girls and the money, which
amounted to five hundred and ten dollars, was deposited in Upton Bank
with the five hundred that had caused Marian Barber such anxiety and
sorrow.</p>
<p>The thief whom Grace had assisted in capturing was found to be a noted
crook, known to the police as "Larry the Locksmith," on account of his
ability to pick locks. He was tried and sentenced to a number of years
in the penitentiary, and departed from Oakdale stolidly refusing to
furnish the police with the identity of his "pal."</p>
<p>Easter was drawing near, and Grace was radiantly happy. Anne, whose
engagement had stretched into the eighth week, would be home the
following day. Mrs. Gray was looked for hourly and the boys were coming
from college on Monday.</p>
<p>"We certainly will have a reunion," Nora O'Malley exclaimed joyously, as
she banged her books on the window sill of the senior locker-room to
emphasize her remark.</p>
<p>"It seems good to have Grace with us once in a while," declared Jessica.
"Her police court duties have kept her so busy that she has deserted her
little playmates. Have you been asked to join the force yet, Grace!" she
asked, trying to look innocent.</p>
<p>"That isn't fair, Jessica," retorted Grace, laughing. "I appeal to you
girls," turning to the other members of the Phi Sigma Tau, who had one
by one dropped into the locker-room. "Can you imagine me in the garb of
an Oakdale policeman?"</p>
<p>"Not in our wildest nightmares," Miriam Nesbit gravely assured her.</p>
<p>"Anne will be home to-morrow," cried Eva Allen. "I'm so glad it's
Saturday. We can celebrate. Will you come to my house?"</p>
<p>"We will," was the united answer.</p>
<p>"We'll all go to the train to meet Anne," planned Grace. "Then we'll
give her about one hour to get acquainted with her family. After that
we'll rush her off to Eva's, back to my house for supper (mother expects
all of you), and then up to Mrs. Gray's."</p>
<p>"Poor Anne," said Marian Barber, "I can see her being carried home on a
stretcher."</p>
<p>"We will meet at the station," directed Grace, as she left them. "Be
there at 8.15. Don't one of you fail to be there."</p>
<p>As Anne Pierson stepped off the 8.15 train the next morning after an
all-night ride, she was surrounded by seven laughing girls and marched
in triumph to David Nesbit's big car, which Miriam used at her own
pleasure during her brother's absence.</p>
<p>The eight girls managed to squeeze into it, and drove to the Pierson
cottage with all speed. Here Anne was set down, told to make the most of
her hour with her family and to be prepared upon their return to say
good-bye to home for the rest of the day.</p>
<p>The programme outlined by Grace was carried out to the letter. The joy
of Mrs. Gray at again seeing her adopted children was well worth
witnessing.</p>
<p>"I don't know how I ever managed to stay away from you so long!" she
exclaimed, as she looked fondly about her at the smiling, girlish faces.
"How I wish you might all have been with me. I should have returned
sooner, but dreaded the winter here. I do not thrive here—during these
long, cold Oakdale winters. It is because I—"</p>
<p>Grace placed a soft hand upon Mrs. Gray's lips. "I can't allow you to
finish that sentence," she laughed. "You are sixty-two years young, and
you must always remember it."</p>
<p>The old lady laughed happily at Grace's remark, then under cover of
general conversation said to her, "I am greatly surprised to see Eleanor
here. How did it all come about? You never mentioned it in your
letters."</p>
<p>"I know it," replied Grace, "I wanted to save it until you came home. I
have been out to 'Heartsease' several times, too, and am quite in love
with Miss Nevin. May Anne and I come to-morrow and have a good long
gossip? You must hear all about Anne's triumphs in New York."</p>
<p>"Come and have dinner with me," replied Mrs. Gray.</p>
<p>"That will be fine," returned Grace. "We two are the only ones in the
crowd who don't happen to have previous engagements, so the girls won't
feel hurt at not being included."</p>
<p>"We are so glad that you came home in time for the concert," said Miriam
Nesbit. "It is the last entertainment the senior class will have a
chance to give. We hope to make a nice sum of money to add to the
thousand we already have."</p>
<p>"I have not added my mite to your fund yet," said Mrs. Gray. "But now
that I'm home I shall busy myself immediately with my High School girls.
When and where is the concert to be held?"</p>
<p>"A week from next Monday, in Assembly Hall," replied Miriam. "We wish to
give it before the boys go back to school. They have only ten days at
home, you know."</p>
<p>"How anxious I am to see the boys," cried Mrs. Gray. "I found a letter
from Tom waiting for me. He expects to arrive on Monday or Tuesday, and
will bring Arnold with him."</p>
<p>"I received a letter from Tom, too," said Grace. "We have also heard
from the boys. David is bringing home a friend of his, Donald Earle,
who, he writes, is the most popular man in the freshman class."</p>
<p>The evening seemed all too short to Mrs. Gray and the Phi Sigma Tau.</p>
<p>"Why, we've only begun to talk," said Jessica, "and here it is after
eleven o'clock."</p>
<p>"To be continued in our next," said Nora with a grin. "Introducing new
features and startling revelations."</p>
<p>Sunday afternoon found Anne and Grace strolling up Chapel Hill toward
Mrs. Gray's. Rather to their surprise they found Miss Nevin with Mrs.
Gray in the library. The two women were in earnest conversation, and as
Grace and Anne were ushered in, Grace's quick intuition told her that
Miss Nevin was strongly agitated over something.</p>
<p>"How are my own children to-day," asked Mrs. Gray, coming forward and
kissing both of them warmly. Anne was then presented to Miss Nevin, who
took occasion to congratulate her upon her recent success. "Your fame
has preceded you," she said with a sweet smile.</p>
<p>"You must tell us all about your stay in New York, Anne," said Mrs.
Gray. "You are very young to have been chosen for so responsible an
engagement, and I feel great pride in your success."</p>
<p>"Anne had two offers of engagements while in New York," interposed
Grace. "One from Farman, the big manager, and one from Rupert Manton,
the Shakespearian actor."</p>
<p>"But I am still in Oakdale," replied Anne smiling, "and have come to-day
to beg for my secretaryship again."</p>
<p>"You delightful child," cried Mrs. Gray. "I knew you would never desert
me."</p>
<p>"Margaret," she said, turning to Miss Nevin, "would you care to tell my
girls what you were telling me when they came in? I have already told
them something of Eleanor's parentage. They know that Guido Savelli is
her father. Perhaps they might be of assistance in helping you decide
what is to be done. Grace is a famous suggester."</p>
<p>Miss Nevin flushed and looked hesitatingly at Anne and Grace, as though
a trifle reluctant to speak.</p>
<p>"We shall consider anything you may choose to tell us strictly
confidential, Miss Nevin," said Anne quietly.</p>
<p>"I am sure that you will," replied Miss Nevin. "What I have told Mrs.
Gray is that I have received through my lawyers a letter from Eleanor's
father. They inclosed his letter in one from them asking whether I were
desirous of acquainting him with my whereabouts.</p>
<p>"He has written rather a sad letter. He seems to have awakened to a late
remorse for having neglected my sister as he did. He asks for his child,
and if he may see her. He has just finished a concert tour of America,
and is at present in New York.</p>
<p>"Personally, I shall never forgive him, but have I the right to keep
Eleanor from her father? He is both rich and famous, and she would adore
him, for his music, if for nothing else. I have always said that when
she became twenty-one years of age I should tell her of him, leaving to
her the choice of claiming or ignoring him.</p>
<p>"But I never supposed for one instant that he would ever come forward
and interest himself in her. A year ago I should not have considered her
fit to choose, but she is greatly changed. The two years in which she
has associated with girls of her own age have benefited her greatly. I
feel as though I could not bear to give her up now. Moreover, this idea
of claiming his child may be merely a whim on the part of her father. He
is liable to forget her inside of six weeks."</p>
<p>Grace listened to Miss Nevin in breathless silence. It was all like a
story-book romance.</p>
<p>Anne sat gazing off into space, thinking dreamily of the great virtuoso
who had found after years of selfish pleasure and devotion to himself
that blood was thicker than water. She fancied she could picture his
pride when he beheld Eleanor and realized that she was his own child,
and Eleanor's rapture when she knew that her father was master of the
violin she worshipped.</p>
<p>Suddenly an idea popped into Anne's head that was a positive
inspiration.</p>
<p>"Why not ask him to come down for our concert?" she said, amazed at her
own audacity in suggesting such a thing. "Eleanor need not know about
him at all. She is to play at the concert, you know. If he hears her
play he will realize more fully that she is really his own flesh and
blood, and if he has any real fatherly feeling for her it will come to
the surface. That will be the psychological moment in which to bring
them together."</p>
<p>"Anne, you're a genius!" cried Grace. "You ought to be appointed Chief
Arbiter of Destiny."</p>
<p>"Margaret," exclaimed Mrs. Gray, "I believe that Anne's idea is logical.
Shall you try it!"</p>
<p>"I shall write to Guido at once," said Miss Nevin, rising. "Knowing his
disposition as I do, it seems that I could find no better way of rousing
his interest in Eleanor. Her love of the violin is a direct inheritance
from him, and she may reach his heart through her music. At any rate, it
is worth trying."</p>
<p>After Miss Nevin's departure Anne and Grace entertained Mrs. Gray with
the promised gossip, and it was well toward ten o'clock before they
turned their steps toward home.</p>
<p>The following week was a busy one. Every spare moment outside school the
senior class zealously devoted to the concert. The High School Glee Club
was to sing, and the mandolin and guitar club was to give two numbers.
Nora O'Malley was to sing two songs from a late musical success, and
Jessica and Miriam were to play a duet. James Gardiner, who was
extremely proficient on the violincello, was down for a solo, while
Eleanor was to play twice. The crowning feature of the concert, however,
was to be contributed by Anne and Eleanor. Anne was to recite Tennyson's
"Enoch Arden," and Eleanor was to accompany her on the piano with the
music that she had arranged for it.</p>
<p>The two girls had worked incessantly upon it, rehearsing almost every
day. Grace was the only one who had been permitted to hear a rehearsal
of it, and she was enraptured with what she heard.</p>
<p>The boys had all arrived, and the Phi Sigma Tau divided their time
equally between concert rehearsals and social gatherings. David's
friend, Donald Earle, was ably living up to his college reputation, and
proved himself a source of unmitigated pleasure to the young people
among whom he was thrown. It was soon discovered, however, that he was
oftenest found in Eleanor's wake, and his eyes showed honest admiration
for the beautiful girl every time he looked at her.</p>
<p>Hippy, who had established a reputation as a singer of humorous songs,
was asked for his services.</p>
<p>"I have a number of new and choice ditties that I will render with
pleasure, providing I am afterwards fed," he shrewdly declared, when
interviewed on the subject.</p>
<p>"It will all depend upon how well you sing," stipulated Nora.</p>
<p>"Then I shan't warble at all," announced Hippy. "I am a man of few
words, but when I say I must have food for my services as a soloist, I
mean it. There must be no uncertainty. Do I feed or do I not?"</p>
<p>"You feed," laughed Nora.</p>
<p>The concert was to be held in Assembly Hall, and three days before every
ticket issued had been sold. People who could not attend bought tickets
and handed them back to be sold over again. The senior class, by reason
of the popularity of the Phi Sigma Tau, was considered the class of
classes.</p>
<p>"We'll have to put out a 'Standing Room Only' sign," declared Anne
Pierson, as she viewed the packed house through a hole in the curtain.</p>
<p>The fateful night had arrived, and Anne, Eleanor and Grace stood in a
group on the stage, while Anne industriously took note of the audience.</p>
<p>"Let me look for a minute, Anne," said Grace. "I don't believe there'll
be standing room," she remarked, as she stepped aside to give Eleanor a
chance to peer out.</p>
<p>"Come on, girls," called Nora O'Malley, as a burst of applause sounded
from the other side of the curtain. "It's half past eight, and the
curtain will go up in about two minutes."</p>
<p>The three girls scurried off the stage, the Glee Club filed on and
arranged themselves, and the curtain rose.</p>
<p>Each number was applauded to the echo and in every instance the audience
clamored for an encore.</p>
<p>As the time for Eleanor's first solo drew near, Anne and Grace felt
their hearts beat a little faster. Nora was giving an encore to her
first song. Eleanor was to follow her. As she stood in the wing her
violin under her arm, Grace thought she had never appeared more
beautiful.</p>
<p>Her gown was of some soft, white material and rather simply made. "I
never like to wear fussy things when I play," she had confided to the
girls.</p>
<p>Jessica stood directly behind her. She was to act as accompanist.</p>
<p>Nora O'Malley sang the concluding line of her song, favored the audience
with a saucy little nod and made her exit.</p>
<p>"Come on, Eleanor," said Jessica. "It's our turn."</p>
<p>Well toward the back of the hall sat Miss Nevin, wearing a look of
mingled anxiety and pain. Beside her sat a dark, distinguished man in
the prime of life, who never took his eyes off the stage.</p>
<p>As one of the senior girls who had charge of the programme stepped
forward and announced, "Solo, Miss Eleanor Savelli," he drew a deep
breath, and such a look of longing crept into his eyes that Miss Nevin
understood for the first time something of the loneliness of which he
had written.</p>
<p>He covered his eyes with his hand as though reluctant to look. Then the
full, soft notes of the violin were carried to his ears, and with a
smothered cry of exultation he raised his eyes and saw for the first
time his own child in her gown of white with the instrument he loved at
her throat, while her slender hand drew the bow with the true skill of
the artist.</p>
<p>Before Miss Nevin could stop him, he had risen in his seat, saying
excitedly: "It is mia bella Edith. She has come again."</p>
<p>Then realizing what he had done, he sat down, and, burying his face in
his hands, sobbed openly.</p>
<p>Persons around him, startled by his sudden cry, glared at him angrily
for creating a commotion during Eleanor's exquisite number, then again
turned their attention to the soloist.</p>
<p>"I must see her. I must see her," he muttered over and over again. "She
is my child; mine."</p>
<p>"So you shall," whispered Miss Nevin soothingly, "but not until the
concert is over. If we tell her now, Guido, it will upset her so that
she can't appear again this evening, and she has two more numbers."</p>
<p>Unabashed by the emotion he had displayed, the virtuoso wiped his eyes,
and sat waiting like one in a trance for his child to appear again.</p>
<p>Anne and Grace were alive with curiosity as to the outcome of Anne's
suggestion. They had eagerly scanned the house before the concert began,
but had failed to locate Miss Nevin and Eleanor's father.</p>
<p>"I'm going out in the audience and see if I can find them," Grace had
whispered to Anne during Nora's song, as they stood in the wing on the
opposite side from Jessica and Eleanor.</p>
<p>Anne had nodded silently, her attention focused upon Nora, whose singing
always delighted her, and Grace, slipping quietly down to the door that
led into the hall, made her way toward the back rows of seats just in
time to witness Guido Savelli's emotion at first sight of his daughter.</p>
<p>Back to Anne she sped with her news, and the two friends held a quiet
little jubilee of their own over the success of their plot.</p>
<p>There was a round of applause when "Enoch Arden" was announced. Eleanor
took her place at the piano while Anne stepped forward and began the
pathetic tale to the subdued strains of the music that Eleanor had
fitted to it.</p>
<p>Anne's beautiful voice rose and fell with wonderful expression, while
the music served to accentuate every word that she uttered. Her audience
sat practically spell bound, and when she uttered poor Enoch's death
cry, "A sail! A sail! I am saved!" there were many wet eyes throughout
the assemblage. She paused for a second before delivering the three
concluding lines, and Eleanor ended on the piano with a throbbing minor
chord.</p>
<p>There was absolute silence as the performers made their exit. Then a
perfect storm of enthusiasm burst forth. Anne and Eleanor returned to
bow again and again, but the audience refused to be satisfied, until
Anne, in her clear, musical voice, made a little speech of appreciation,
which was received with acclamation.</p>
<p>The concert drew to a triumphant close. After Eleanor's second solo, she
repaired to the dressing room, where she was immediately surrounded by a
group of admiring girls and kept so busy answering questions as to how
long she had studied the violin and where, that she did not see Grace
Harlowe enter the right wing with Miss Nevin and a tall, dark-haired
stranger who glanced quickly about as though in search of some one.
"Where is she?" he said. "Find her at once. But, no, wait a moment. She
shall hear me play! I will win the heart of my child through the music
she loves, I may add one little solo to your programme?" he turned
questioningly to Grace.</p>
<p>"Well, I should rather think so," gasped Grace. "It is an honor of which
we never dreamed. This concert will be recorded in Oakdale history."</p>
<p>"It is well," said the virtuoso. "Bring me the violin of my child. I
will speak to her through it."</p>
<p>Grace flew to the dressing room, where Eleanor's violin lay in its open
case upon a table near the door. Hastily securing both violin and bow,
she flitted out of the room—without having been noticed by the girls at
the further end.</p>
<p>"Here it is," she breathed, as she handed it to Eleanor's father. "I
will arrange for you to play after the Glee Club, who are just going on
now."</p>
<p>"I thank you," replied the great man. "I pray you do not announce me. I
shall need no one to accompany me."</p>
<p>"It shall be as you wish," promised Grace.</p>
<p>There was a moment's wait after the Glee Club had filed off the stage,
then Guido Savelli appeared, violin in hand.</p>
<p>A faint ripple of surprise stirred the audience. Who was this
distinguished stranger! They could not identify him as belonging among
Oakdale musicians.</p>
<p>The virtuoso made a comprehensive survey of the house, then placing the
violin almost caressingly to his throat, began to play.</p>
<p>His hearers listened in growing astonishment to the exquisite sounds
that he drew from the instrument. There was a plaintive, insistent
appeal in his music that was like the pleading of a human voice. It was
a pathetic cry wrung from a hungry heart.</p>
<p>The dressing-room door stood partly open, and as the full, sweet notes
of the violin were carried to her ears, Eleanor gave a cry of rapture.</p>
<p>"Who is playing?" she cried. "I must see at once." She ran out of the
room and into the wing, where she could command a full view of the
stage, and looked upon her father for the first time.</p>
<p>She stood, statue like, until the last note died away. Her eyes were
full of tears, which she made no attempt to hide. Then she turned to
Anne, who had slipped quietly up and now stood beside her:</p>
<p>"Anne," she said almost reverently, "he is a master. His music
overwhelms me. I felt when he played as though—he were trying to give
me some message, as though he were speaking to me alone. I suppose every
one in the audience felt the same. It is because he is a genius. Who is
he, Anne, and where did he come from?"</p>
<p>"Eleanor," replied Anne, her voice trembling a little, "you must prepare
yourself for the greatest surprise of your life. He was speaking to you
when he played, and it was solely on your account that he played. He
came here with your aunt to-night."</p>
<p>Eleanor paled a little.</p>
<p>"Anne, what does all this mean?" she said. "You and Grace have acted
queerly all evening. What has this violinist to do with me!"</p>
<p>"That I cannot answer now," replied Anne, "but you will know within the
next hour. Your aunt wishes you to get your wraps and meet her at once.
She is outside in the carriage and he is with her."</p>
<p>"Are you and Grace coming with us?" questioned Eleanor.</p>
<p>"Not to-night," answered Anne, with a little smile. "You don't need
either of us. Here's Grace," she added, as the latter hurried toward
them.</p>
<p>"Eleanor," said Grace, "here is your cloak and your violin. Now, kiss
both of us good night and trot along, for there's a big surprise waiting
for you just around the corner, and it is the earnest wish of both Anne
and I that it may prove a happy one."</p>
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