CHAPTER XXI
SUGGESTIVE TONES
Miss Wildmere had promised to drive with Graydon on the followingmorning, but Madge felt as if heaven had interfered in her behalf, forthe skies were clouded, and the rain fell unceasingly. People were ata loss to beguile the hours. Graydon, Miss Wildmere, and Mr. Arnaultplayed pool together, while Mr. Muir, his wife, and Madge bowled foran hour, the last winning most of the games. Mr. Arnault had a certainrude sense of fair play, and it appeared to him that Graydon's coursehad become all that he could ask--more than he could naturally expect.The lady was apparently left wholly free to make her choice betweenthem, and all protest, even by manner, against her companionship withhim had ceased. He could drive, walk, or dance with her at his will;then Graydon would quietly put in an appearance and make the most ofhis opportunity. Arnault was not deceived, however. He knew thathis present rival was the most dangerous one that he had everencountered--that Stella might accept him at any time and was muchinclined to do so speedily. Indeed, he was about driven to the beliefthat she would do so at once but for the fear that the Muirs werein financial peril. He hoped that this fear and the pressure of herfather's need might lead her to decide in his favor, without thenecessity of his being the immediate and active agent in breaking downthe Muirs. As a business man, he shrunk from this course, and all themore because Graydon was acting so fairly. Nevertheless, he would playhis principal card if he must. It was his nature to win in every gameof life, and it had become a passion with him to secure the beautifulgirl that he had sought so long and vainly. If it could appear to theworld that he had fairly won her, he would not scruple at anything inthe accomplishment of his purpose, and would feel that he had scoredthe most brilliant success in his life. If he could do this withoutruining them, he would be glad, and his good-will was enhanced byGraydon's course this morning. The former had sauntered into thebilliard-room, but, seeing Graydon with Miss Wildmere, had been aboutto depart, when Muir had said, cordially, "Come, Arnault, take a cuewith us," and had quite disarmed him by frank courtesy.
At last the sound of music and laughter lured them to the main hall,and there they found Madge surrounded by children and young people,little Nellie Wilder clinging to her side the most closely, with Mr.and Mrs. Wilder looking at the young girl with a world of gratefulgood-will in their eyes.
"Oh, Miss Alden, sing us another song," clamored a dozen voices.
"Yes," cried Jennie Muir; "the funny one you sang for us in thewoods."
Madge smilingly complied, and the children fairly danced in theirdelight at the comical strains, abrupt pauses, droll sentiment,and interlarded words of explanation. The more elderly guests wereattracted, and the audience grew apace. Having finished her littlemusical comedy, Madge arose, and Mr. Arnault, aware of StellaWildmere's ability to sing selections from opera, said, "Since thechildren have been so well entertained, I suggest that we who have themisfortune to be grown have our turn, and that Miss Wildmere give ussome grown-up music."
Madge flushed slightly, and Miss Wildmere, after a little charminghesitation, seated herself at the piano, and sang almost faultlesslya selection from an opera. It was evident that she had been welland carefully trained, and that within her limitations, which shethoughtfully remembered, she gave little occasion for criticism. Bothher suitors were delighted. They applauded so heartily, and urgedso earnestly with others, that she sang again and again, to theunaffected pleasure of the throng who had now gathered. At last shepleaded fatigue, and rose from the instrument, flushing proudly amidvociferous encores. Graydon was about to ask Madge to sing again, whenan old gentleman who had listened to the children's ditties, and haddetected unusual sweetness and power in Madge's tones, said, promptly,"I may be mistaken, but I have an impression that Miss Alden can giveus some grown-up music, if she will."
Instantly his suggestion was seconded by general entreaty, in whichnot only Graydon joined from sincere good-will, but also Mr. Arnault,in the hope of giving Stella a triumph, for he believed that the besther social rival could do would be to render some ballad fairly well.
Madge's brow contracted, as though she were irresolute and troubled.
"Truly, Miss Alden," said Stella, who was standing near, "I have donemy part to beguile the dismal day; I think you might favor us, also.There are no critics here, I hope. We should enjoy a simple song ifyou cannot now recall anything else."
"Very well, then, I will give you a little German song that my oldteacher loved well;" but Graydon saw the same slight flush and aresolute expression take the place of her hesitancy.
After a brief prelude, which, to his trained ear, revealed her perfecttouch, her voice rose with a sweet, resonant power that held thosenear spellbound, and swelled in volume until people in distant partsof the house paused and listened as if held by a viewless hand.Connoisseurs felt that they were listening to an artist and not anamateur; plain men and women, and the children, knew simply thatthey were enjoying music that entranced them, that set their nervesthrilling and vibrating. Madge hoped only that her voice mightpenetrate the barriers between herself and one man's heart. She didnot desire to sing on the present occasion. She did not wish to annoyhim by the contrast between her song and Miss Wildmere's performance,feeling that he would naturally take sides in his thoughts with thewoman outvied; nor had she any desire to inflict upon her rival thedisparagement that must follow; but something in Miss Wildmere'sself-satisfied and patronizing tone had touched her quick spirit, andthe arrogant girl should receive the lesson she had invited. But, asMadge sang, the noble art soon lifted her above all lower thoughts,and she forgot everything but Graydon and the hope of her heart. Shesang for him alone, as she had learned to sing for him alone.
In spite of her explanations he looked at her with the same old wonderand perplexity of which he had been conscious from the first. If shehad merely sung with correctness and taste, like Miss Wildmere, therewould have been nothing to disturb his complacent admiration; but nowhe almost felt like springing to her side with the words, "What is it,Madge? Tell me all."
As the last lovely notes ceased, only the unthinking childrenapplauded. From the others there was entreaty.
"Please sing again, Miss Alden," said the gentleman who had firstasked her. "I am an old man, and can't hope for many more such richpleasures. I am not an amateur, and know only the music that reachesmy heart."
"Sing something from 'Lohengrin,' Madge," said Henry Muir, quietly.She glanced at him, and there was a humorous twinkle in his eyes.
Herr Brachmann had trained her thoroughly in some of Wagner'sdifficult music, and she gave them a selection which so far surpassedthe easy melodies of Verdi, which Miss Wildmere had sung, that thelatter sat pale and incensed, yet not daring to show her chagrin. Thismusic was received with unbounded applause, and then a little voicepiped, "The big folks have had more'n their turn; now give us areg'lar Mother Goose."
This request was received with acclamations, and soon ripples oflaughter broke over the crowd in all directions, and then one of theadoring boys who were usually worshipping near cried out, "A reel,Miss Alden, a reel, and let us finish up with a high old dance beforedinner."
Graydon seized Miss Wildmere's hand, boys made profound bows to theirmothers, husbands dragged their protesting wives out upon the floor.Soon nearly all ages and heights were in the two long lines, many feetalready keeping time to Madge's rollicking strains. Never had sucha dance been known before in the house, for the very genius andinspiration of mirth seemed to be in the piano. The people werelaughing half the time at the odd medley of tunes and improvisationsthat Madge invoked, and gray-bearded men indulged in some of theantics that they had thought forgotten a quarter of a century before.As the last couple at the head of the lines was glancing down thearchway of raised and clasped hands, the lively strains ceased, andthe dancers swarmed out, with thanks and congratulations upon theirlips, only to see Madge flying up the stairway.
"Madge," said Graydon, at dinner, "I suppose you will tell me you havepr
acticed over and over again every note you sang this morning."
"Certainly; some of the more difficult ones hours and hours andmonths and months. Herr Brachmann was an amiable dragon in music, andinsisted on your knowing what you did know."
"I thought you would say all this, but it doesn't account for yoursinging."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know exactly. There is something you did not get fromHerr Brachmann--scarcely from nature. It suggests what artists callfeeling, and more."
"Oh, every one has his own method," said Madge, carelessly, and yetwith a visible increase of color.
"'Method,' do you call it? I'm half inclined to think that it mightbe akin to madness were you very unhappy. The human voice often hasa strange power over me, and I have a theory that it may revealcharacter more than people imagine. Why shouldn't it? It is thechief medium of our expression, and we may even unconsciously revealourselves in our tones."
"When were you so fanciful before? What does a professional reveal?"
"Chiefly that she is a trained professional, and yet even the mostblase among them give hints as to the compass of their woman-nature.I think their characters are often suggested quite definitely by theirtones. Indeed, I even find myself judging people by their voices.Henry's tones indicate many of his chief traits accurately--as, forinstance, self-reliance, reserve, quiet and unswerving purpose."
"Well," asked Mrs. Muir, who was a little obtuse on delicate points,"what did Miss Wildmere's tones indicate?"
Graydon was slightly taken aback, and suddenly found that he did notlike his theory so well as he had thought. "Miss Wildmere's tones," hebegan, hesitatingly, "suggested this morning little more than adesire to render well the music she sang, and to give pleasure to herlisteners."
"I thought they suggested some self-complacency, which was lost beforethe morning was over," added Mr. Muir, dryly.
"Miss Wildmere sang admirably," exclaimed Madge, warmly, "and couldsing much better if she had been trained in a better method and gavemore time to the art. I sang hours every day for nearly two years.Nothing will take the place of practice, Graydon. One must developvoice like muscle."
"You are a generous, sensible critic, Madge," he said, quietly,although there was a flush of resentment on his face at his brother'swords. "In the main you are right, but I still hold to my theory.At least, I believe that in all great music there is a subtleindividuality and _motif_. Love may be blind, but it is not deaf. MissWildmere gave us good music, not great music."
Mr. Muir began talking about the weather as if it were the onlysubject in his mind, and soon afterward Madge went to her room withbowed head and downcast heart.
"I have no chance," she sighed. "He loves her, and that ends all. Heis loyal to her, and will be loyal, even though she breaks his hearteventually, as I fear. It's his nature."
A Young Girl's Wooing Page 21