Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 77, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 March 1912 — Second Fiddle [ARTICLE]

Second Fiddle

By NELLIE CRAVEY GILMORE

(Copyright, HOI, by Associated Literary Press.)

\ There was a slightly fictitious note tn the daughter’s voice as she reknar ked with a yawn: “Ton go down tonight, mother, and talk to the lodge. Fm tired." ' Mrs. Metcalfe turned from the mirtwr, surprise and displeasure distinctly visible on her youthful, comely face. “I must say you’re the queer- .... net specimen of a girl I ever saw, Catherine. The judge Is one of the Eest looking men in New York. He brainy, prominent, rich—and foolily in love.” -„ r > Prom her luxurious stronghold kunong the sofa cushions, Katherine btified a yawn. “Yes,” she assented ineditatively. "Indeed I believe that Is all quite true.” She watched her \ Another with drowsy interest as she brushed out the heavy masses of shinpig gold hair and looped them into an prtistic knot low on her neck. : "And what excuse am Ito make to jjudge Gresham this time?” she inquired stiffly, turning with a little brisk movement from the mirror. • "I'm ill, dearie. You know I am. Think of motoring from nine till one, lunching—golfing till dusk—” ! “All with that impossible Jack (Baker.” -'T<‘Ah! | be door bell now, mother. Run along and don’t keep his Judgeship waiting.” i With a slightly heightened color in her cheeks, Mrs. Metcalfe passed ithrough the door and closed it quietly behind her. And presently Kathjerine heard the sound of. their voices In the library below. Two hours, latdr Mrs. Metcalfe game up and found her daughter peacefully asleep. She half-roused at the sound of soft footsteps about jthe room and muttered lazily: "Dear ,«ne, Muzzle, is it midnight? You must have found the judge enormouspr entertaining.” . "I wonder, Kitty, if you’re going to pome to your senses and quit dawdling?” i "Give me time, please; I’m only jtwenty. But what do you mean?” ! "Why shnply that if you’re going ito marry Judge Gresham you ought go do It and stop your nonsense,” was jtha crisp retort , | ."But be hasn’t asked me.” i’ "You won’t give him a chance.” ; "Half . a man would make one—if jhe wanted it,” she replied significantpy. “But let’s, go to bed and get "{some beauty sleep; I’ve an engagement at Seven to go sailing.” "With that Baker?” 1 Katherine nodded as she slipped

(Into bed. Mrs. Metcalfe smothered a jslgh and the fingers that unfastened per bodice trembled. The clock was Striking twelve when she turned out k jjQie light When she awakened the . [following morning Katherine was ' [gone and the room was in a frenzy of (disorder. v At ten o'clock Katherine had not returned and in despair Mrs. Metcalfe - decided to read the judge’s note and i«e if It required an answer. •- "Dear Miss Kitty: “I want to take you to drive behind a new pair of grays, if Ivnay. I shall _ appreciate it very much , if you will . let me have your answer at once. ;,i=S=£Swsj~.. "Cordially, “B. R. GRESHAM." “P, S.--If Mrs. Metcalfe would care for the drive, you might ask her to j come with. us. B. R. Q.” 1 ! The blood flamed hotly in the little jmotber’s face. Her lips set determinedly. She - wouldn't go—she [wouldn’t! It was . all her daughter's doing—this bringing her into all their larrangefhents—making her play “sec:,iond fiddle" and thus defeating the lamiable gentleman's obvious lntenfttona—and arousing his secret disgust! With the color still beating nigh in her cheeks she sat jher desk and wrote* a hasty, reply to (the letter. Mrs. Metcalfe had put her foot' down at last and when, at a few miniates past eleven, Katherine burst ihto ■the room with sun-blistered cheeks iand wind-tossed hair, her mother chilled the exuberance on her lips by Sco\d glance of disapproval. "Judge resham has invitetd you to drive with him at three.” she announced (stiffly. “I took the liberty of acceptdng for you." "Bully! Let'B see the letter, dearjlef” Katherine reached out her hand lor the paper and devoured its cein(tents at a glance. “And your she Iqderied. - -- “I? I shall remain at home—of course.” The girl uttered a little Incredulous Baugh. “Shucks!” she cried. “Do you jbnaglnt I*4 let'you snub him in this 'fashion? Never! The fact is, if you don't go, I shan’t either!" Mrs. Metcalfe knew her offspring (too well to remonstrate. She half smiled and her mouth showed signs Of weakening. "I’m sure you’d not he so selfish and discourteous, Kitty. tßut for fear you might- 1 -—’’ .“You’ll go—certainly" And having, las usual, gained her point, Katherine bounced up from her chair, kissed her poiother’s cheek and sakl breesily: rPm ofi to refresh myself with a cold plunge, before luncheon.’’ After luncheon, when Mrs. Meticalfe went up. dutlfuly to prepare for the outing, she found her daughter dozing on the bed, “You’d better hurry, dear; It’s aftShSS”

the rein she had held upon herself. A bored look came to her face. She put on her things listlessly—it was such a relief to be free from her mother's vigilance. As she unfastened the neck of her blouse, a man’s silk handkerchief, knotted about her throat, exhaled the Insidious odor of pipe smoke. With a little gesture of vehemence, she pressed it eagerly to her burning cheek—buried her face in its soft folds. Mrs. Metcalfe bit her lip as Katherine whimsically insisted upon climbing to a seat beside the driver. But she did not interfere and smiled fith what grace she could muster as the judge helped her to her place beside him In the rear. They drove for hours, up red and gold-spangled hills, through cool valleys and along picturesque stretches of level, flowerfringed road. The girl scarcely spoke, but sat in silence, drinking in each fresh beauty. Mrs. Metcalfe and Judge Gresham kept up a lively flow of conversation. The mother’s constraint vanished. The judge was in one of his liveliest moods. When, finally, at twilight, they stopped In front of the house, Mrs. Metcalfe excused herself and hurried inside. Judgg Metcalfe detained Katherine a moment at the gate.

“Little girl,” he began awkwardly, “there’s something I want to say to you, have been wanting to ask you for a long time. Can you guess what It Is?” “I believe so. I think so,” was the faltering reply. “You know, of course, why I’ve kept ' coming here. And yet I’ve lacked the courage to speak.’ Katherine lifted an impulsive hand and laid it on his coat sleeve. “I —don’t think you—have anything to fear,” she said with a little smile. The judge took her fingers and held them close in his big warm palm. “Thank you,’ 'he said, “and do you think I might call this evening?” “You may come in right now and stay to tea with us. Do!” Judge Gresham followed her on up the steps and into the dimly lighted library. There she left him, witih a backward smile of assurance, till she could “remove her things.” As she entered her room, Mrs. Metcalfe looked up anxiously. “I—l couldn’t help hearing part of it, Kitty; I beg your pardon—but—you accepted him?” Katherine suddenly sat down on the edge of a chair and putting her elbows on her knees, propped her chin In her hands, “h—did not,” she announced. , ‘‘You did not? But I always hoped —I always believed—that you ” “As a father, perhaps; not as—a husband,” came the thunderbolt from her daughter’s pretty red lips. . “O Kitty!” she cried. “Yes,” continued that young person glibly, "he’s downstairs now, pretend l ing to be waiting for me. In reality It’s you he wants to see. Now let’s hurry and get on the mauve dress; do your hair In that nobby new style and--—” <

; Mrs. Metcalfe lifted an appealing hand. “Please!" she Implored, “you mustnft. You don’t know what you*r* saying.” Katherine rose quickly, crossed the room to her mother’s chair and dropping on her knees beside It took the trembling little woman In her arms. IT know only too well, you foolish little dove,” she murmured tenderly, “I’ve known all along. As for that precious old muttonbead of a judge, do make haste and get into your rags It’s almost tea-time and you’ve a guest waiting In the library. And — by the way, Muzzle, I'm going out -with Jack to the theatetr at eight o’clock. This is ohe tftflb I won’t be made to play second fiddle!" Three hours later, when Katherine returned, the light was still burning brightly in the library and with her finger on her lips she ushered young Baker supertitiously into the drawing room across the’hall.

Measuring Her Woe. Throughout his career as a newspaper reporter the young man’s assignments had taken him Into demonstrative crowds whose periods of noisy demonstration it was tils duty to time. “Mr. A. finally appearing, the audience cheered (or fifteen minutes.' “Senator X. finished his second Joke amid laughter that lasted for ten min utes," or, “At the dose of the speech the audience applauded wildly for thlr teen minutes.” These and similar records of the public pulse plentifully adorned nearly every story the young man wrote. One day he was sent to attend the funeral of a rich and crusty-tempered old gentleman whose young wife had notoriously repented her choice. The young man wound up his story of the funeral thus: “In the silence that ensued the widow wept for sixteen seconds.” Keep High Standards of Excellence. If people could only once realize the influence of holding the sickly ideal, the failure ideal, in the mint} until the standards of .excellence are all dragged down to the level of mediocrity or commonness, they would never again be content to dwell Jn the valley of failure, to live In the basements of their Uves—Oriaon