OCR Text |
Show J04 'Q:btnlllng 't!:blnQt ~ ... \\lll> 'llose anb $tl11er injure one. Since then, he had seen precocious children, developed in one line at the expense of all others, fail ignominiously in maturity because there was no foundation. The Child Wonder who had thrilled all Europe at nine, by his unnatural mastery of the violin, was playing in an orchestra in a Paris caf~. where one of the numerous boy sopranos was the head waiter. How disappointed Aunt Francesca must be, even though she had too much self-control to show it ! And his father! Allison swallowed a lump in his throat. After a lifetime of self-sacrificing devotion, the Colonel had seen all his efforts fail, but he had taken the blow standing, like the soldier that he was. In vain, many a time, Allison had wished that some of his father's fine courage might have been transmitted to him. And Rose-dear Rose ! How persistently she held the new way open before him; how steadily she insisted that the creative impulse was higher than interpretative skill ! How often she had reminded him of Carlyle's stirring call: "Produce, produce! Though it be but the merest fraction of a fragment, produce it, in God's name ! " He had noticed that the materials for composition were always close at hand, though she never urged him to work. He had come gradually to depend upon Rose -a great deal more than he realised. Quite often he perceived the truth of the saying that "a blue-ribbon friendship is better than an honourable mention love." It was evident that Isabel had never loved him, though she had been pleased and flattered by his love for her. Even at the time that Aunt Francesca and Rose had congratulated him, and he had kissed them both in friendly fashion, he had taken passing note of the difference between Isabel and Rose. Of course it was only that Isabel was made of ice and Rose of flesh and blood, but still, it was pleasant to remember that-- His thoughts began to stray into other fields. Rose was his promised wife, as far as name went, yet she treated him with the frank good comradeship that a liberal social code makes possible between men and women. As far as Rose was concerned, there was no sentiment in the world. When she read to him, it was invariably a story of adventure or of humorous complications, or a well-chosen exposition of some recent advance in science or art. Their conversation was equally impersonal, even at the rare times they chanced to be alone. Rose made Colonel Kent, Aunt Francesca, Doctor Jack, and even the nurse equally welcome to Allison's society. He went freely from room to room on the upper floor, but had not yet been downstairs, J05 llllluc. 'I:UbbOft 'd.cnbfbl |