THE MUSICALE

Tessibel, arrayed in her new dress and slippers, a roll of songs under her arm, stood in the shanty kitchen. Neither Daddy Skinner nor Andy had made any comment when she told them she had really consented to sing at the home of the dwarf’s enemy. Now she craved their commendation. A little doubtful, she went to the ladder, and glanced upward. The dwarf was nowhere to be seen.

“Andy,” she called softly.

“Huh?” drifted from somewhere above in the darkness.

“Crawl to the hole, dear, an’ squint down at my dress.”

A little scramble and a face peered down upon her,

“Ye been a cryin’, Andy,” said Tess, a break in her voice. “What ye been a cryin’ fer, honey?”

“Seem’s if Waldstricker air goin’ to take ye away from my pal an’ me.”

Daddy Skinner gave a grunt with no articulate word in it. Tess whirled around on him and fastened her bright eyes upon her father’s bent head.

“Daddy,” she began tremulously, “air you an’ Andy thinkin’ things ye hadn’t ought to of Tessibel?”

Skinner shook his head.

“Me an’ Andy hates Waldstricker, that air all,” he said.

Tess shrugged her shoulders.

“I ain’t et up with love fer him uther,” she offered in defense, “but Miss Young wanted me to oh, daddy, why didn’t you tell me I couldn’t go right at first ”

“Of course, ye be goin’,” broke in Daddy Skinner, “but don’t ye forgit us, my pretty!”

Tess gurgled in joy. She went to her father’s side and gathered the dear head into her arms.

“If that air all what air worryin’ ye, then kiss yer brat,” said she. “I air goin’ to sing an’ mebbe I’ll only see Waldstricker to speak to ’im. If he says anythin’ ’bout Andy ”

“What’ll ye tell ’im, kid?” gasped the dwarf.

“Oh, I’ll string ’im like I allers does,” returned Tess. “Now you’re done squallin’ like a baby, look at me!”

“Ain’t she swell?” enthused Andy. “Orn, have ye looked ’er over?”

“Sure,” mumbled the Squatter, “an’ she air finer’n silk.”

Tessibel hugged her father again, fluttered a kiss from the tips of her fingers to the little man above, and repeating her usual admonition to them, not to talk aloud, she started for Young’s with palpitating heart. Deforrest met her as she ascended the front porch. Smiling he took her hand. His eyes expressed his approval of the winsome face and the trim figure in the new dress.

“Prompt as usual,” he greeted. “How beautiful you are tonight, my dear!”

The color swept to Tessibel’s face in great waves. She loved everything beautiful, the roses, the violets, the blue of the sky! Even the night things were beautiful, too. Did Professor Young think her beautiful like all these wonders? She smiled, her face shining in its mantling crimson. Deforrest took her arm, leading her into the living room, where Helen stood at the table, drawing on a long white glove.

“Gaze upon your handiwork,” laughed her brother. “Quite a surprise for Ebenezer and his friends, eh?”

Helen examined Tessibel from the top of her head to the tip of her pretty boots with critical, gratified eyes.

“Yes,” she decided, “you’re all very satisfactory, Tess.” Then to her brother, “Now, let’s go, dear.”

When Deforrest drove his horses up the long roadway leading to the Waldstricker mansion, Tessibel noticed the house was lighted from cellar to garret, that a long line of vehicles was making its slow way to the porch. Her heart fluttered with embarrassment. As they drew up to the stone veranda, Tess reached spontaneously for Helen Young’s hand.

“It seem’s if I jest couldn’t sing afore such a awful lot of folks,” she murmured helplessly.

Helen returned the pressure of the cold fingers.

“Try to imagine you’re in church,” she suggested. “You won’t break down, my dear, I feel quite sure.”

“I I air goin’ to try to be awful careful anyhow,” replied Tess, hopefully, but she heaved a deep sigh as Deforrest Young lifted her quite into his arms and placed her on the low, broad porch-stone.

Amid a crowd of laughing people, they passed into the house, and while they were removing their wraps, Helen took the opportunity to give her little protege a few last admonitions.

“Don’t forget to put the ‘g’s’ on your ‘ing’s,’ and remember always to say ‘your’ quite plainly,” she whispered.

“I will,” Tessibel promised.

By this time, they had entered the crowded reception hall, and the squatter girl’s heart leapt into her throat when Ebenezer Waldstricker came forward to meet them. He welcomed Helen Young tenderly, taking her hands in his. Tess noticed both corners of his mouth were up.

“I’m so happy to have you here, Helen, my darling,” he murmured, bending over the hands he held.

A flushed face smiled into the speaker’s.

“And I’m happy to be here, too, dear.” Then turning, Helen announced “Here’s Miss Skinner ... Tessibel, Mr. Waldstricker.”

Until then the Elder had not seemed to be aware of the girl’s presence, but at the introduction he extended his hand, formally polite. When, in shy greeting, Tess lifted her eyes, one corner of his mouth drew down rigidly. She was more at ease when Deforrest Young joined them. Her welcoming smile caused that gentleman’s heart to bound in delight. They made their way slowly and with difficulty down the long hall, Tessibel growing more and more conscious of the curious glances directed at them from all sides. When they reached the drawing room door, her agitation grew perceptibly, having noticed that Waldstricker was detaining Helen. Deforrest held her arm with an encouraging pressure.

“Don’t be afraid, dear,” he whispered in her ear. “You’ll stay near sister and me the entire evening. There!” They had crossed the room and neared a row of chairs arranged against the wall. “Sit down by this open window. My sister will be here soon.... Why! Why! childie, you mustn’t tremble so!”

A mist gathered under Tessibel’s lowered lids. Each moment she grew more frightened, and from the corner of her eye measured the distance between their place and the piano. Oh, how thankful she was when Miss Young took a seat beside her. Near the door she recognized Madelene Waldstricker. Across the distance Tess studied the girl a moment. How pretty her gown was!

Tessibel glanced down at her own dress; at her rounded arms shining white under the little ruffle of fine lace. Her dress was pretty, the prettiest she’d ever had, and gratitude toward the woman at her side overcame for the moment her embarrassment. Presently Waldstricker came to them with the request for a song, and Deforrest Young escorted Tess to the piano. He pitied her from the bottom of his heart, as she clutched frantically at his arm.

“You’ve only to be yourself and sing as you do for us, my dear,” he bent to whisper, “everybody will love you then.”

That magic word “Love!” It always thrilled Tess into doing her best, and she must do no less tonight for her friends’ sake. She sank down quite helplessly into the chair to which Deforrest led her and watched Ebenezer escort Helen to the piano. Her muscles grew taut with fright. How she wished to be back with Daddy Skinner and Andy! But she took the song Deforrest handed her, and through a veil of embarrassment, saw his smiling face close to hers.

“Sit here,” he said, in low tones. “I shall be near you.”

In one melodious touch of ivory keys, Helen started the prelude and every one in the room grew silent and attentive. Then from the side of the instrument there suddenly appeared before the quiet audience a radiant vision, a girl with tawny, glittering curls hanging in a golden fire-shower about her slender figure. The unfathomable brown eyes swept over the throng a quick glance, then dropped to the sheet of music in her hand.

A spontaneous murmur of admiration fell from many lips. For an instant Helen Young’s hands poised above the keyboard, then descended; and as spontaneously as a bird begins its love song to the blue, so Tessibel Skinner began to sing.

The powerful voice rose up and up in seeming unending volume, up and up until Deforrest Young sank against the wall and locked his fingers together. How had his sister dared to risk such a song with such a child!... Then he took a long satisfied breath, for he saw the little singer sang as a lark sings, without fear or self-consciousness, without knowledge of limitation to her thrilling harmony.

When Tess ceased on a high note, held until it drifted softly to the furthermost corner of the room, a round of applause went up to the high ceiling, and Miss Young, glancing around proudly at Tess, smiled and nodded. The girl felt another song thrust into her hands. This time she was less tremulous and sent back to Deforrest Young a charming, youthful smile. Helen’s fingers rippled over the keys softly for a minute or two, and once more Tess began to sing.

“That I may know the largeness of God’s love, teach me the fullness of thine own,” she thrilled forth.

A groan forced its way almost to Deforrest Young’s lips. What a child she was! Yet she sang that song with the abandonment of passion known only to a woman. How beautifully, lithely young she looked, standing there with those flowing, shimmering curls and the tender, throbbing voice pleading to be taught the fullness of human love, that she might find the largeness of the Infinite. Turning swiftly to the window, he pressed his lips together to stifle his emotion. He could no longer bear the stab at his heart, nor risk the mist rising in his eyes. Tessibel, wholly unconscious of the stir she was making, sang on and on, her gaze on the sheet in her hand. Suddenly she raised her eyes and there near the door was Frederick Graves, his face waxen white, his dark gaze bent upon her. Close beside him stood Madelene Waldstricker. But a single instant Tess faltered in her song. Then again, passionately, insistently, and tempestuously she sang, “That I may know the largeness of God’s love, teach me the fullness of thine own!”

She saw his lids droop as she carefully pronounced each beautiful word, and saw him, without a glimmer of recognition for her, turn to the girl at his side. He hadn’t even welcomed her with his eyes. Never before had he failed to greet her smilingly. She chilled to the bone, nor dared look again. When the song was finished, she sat down limply. Deforrest Young, strangely stirred, took her hand.

“Sweet child,” he murmured, “it was delightful! Lovely!”

At the same moment Waldstricker was bending over Helen Young.

“My dear, how ambitious you are for so young a pupil!” he laughed.

“There’s nothing she can’t sing,” she replied, rising. “Hasn’t she a wonderful range?”

“Very,” replied Waldstricker, and he, too, turned to look at the squatter girl.

Tess was striving to listen to Deforrest Young, but her disturbed mind was where Frederick stood with Madelene Waldstricker. Her whole loving heart desired him to come and speak to her.

“I never heard her sing like that before,” Madelene was saying to Frederick. “I believe you know her quite well, don’t you?”

“I know who she is,” stammered the student, flushing, “but as to saying I know her well ”

“She’s very beautiful!” interjected Madelene.

Frederick lowered his head flatteringly, “Not as beautiful as another girl I know,” he whispered, and Madelene dropped her eyes with a happy sigh.

“Let’s go and speak to her,” she suggested. “I feel I must, I’m the hostess, you know.”

Frederick reluctantly fell into step with her, and together they crossed the room, a striking picture of entrancing youth. Tessibel’s heart ached at the unusual sight. For one burning moment she wanted to scream, to spring up and do some terrible thing to the small girl walking so familiarly at her husband’s side. Then she looked away miserably. She could not bear the sight, nor did she turn again until she heard a strange, rather high, girl’s voice say,

“It was very lovely, Helen! Such a surprise to every one! I’m ever so grateful to you.”

“Tessibel, this is Miss Waldstricker,” introduced Helen.

Tess raised a scarlet face at the sound of her name.

For one moment the two girls gazed into each other’s eyes. Each had in her panting heart a feeling of proprietorship for the tall, dark boy standing moodily behind Madelene. Tess knew he was there, yet did not look at him.

“You’ve a beautiful voice,” observed Miss Waldstricker, with a shade of condescension in her manner.

Tessibel could feel the blood pulsing even to her finger tips. What did she care for compliments from Madelene Waldstricker? She wanted to hear them from Frederick! Miss Waldstricker whirled suddenly to bring him into the conversation.

“Mr. Graves.... Ah, yes, of course, you know Miss Young, and this and this is Miss Skinner, Mr. Graves.”

Then Frederick bent over Tessibel’s hand, and her fingers shook in his. She raised her eyes slowly and he was looking upon her as if she were a thing apart from him now and ever would be. A crimson wave flew to her face a flood tide of humiliation.

“I’ve met Miss Skinner,” she heard in a low, unfamiliar tone. “Your voice, Miss Skinner, as Miss Waldstricker says, is very beautiful.”

The accent of the ice in his words caused her to withdraw her hand from his instantly. She was stung to the quick by his coldness and indifference. She could not answer him. Was this her Frederick this the boy who had so often knelt at her feet in ardent adoration? He had gazed at her as if she’d been a stranger, had praised her singing only by repeating what another girl had said. Her head burned like fire, and her heart gave a rebellious, defiant twist. She was his wife. All the passion within her tempestuous soul raged in stout protest against his treatment of her. Couldn’t oh, he could have said have said just a little something! Then anger fell from her in a trice. Desolation like an ash encompassed her. Of course, she was but a squatter; Frederick was ashamed of her, ashamed he even knew her. It was just at that moment she saw her husband place Madelene’s fingers on his arm and laughingly move away with her. Tess started out of her jealous agony as some one touched her arm. Deforrest Young was smiling down upon her.

“Let’s go to supper,” he invited.

The girl made an effort to master her confusion. Slowly she rose and took the professor’s arm. The unfamiliar, embarrassing formality helped to hide her anger and consternation. She found herself positively unable to eat. When had she ever been capable of taking food when her heart filled her throat? She was conscious every moment of the presence of her husband and Madelene a little farther down the table, and that Frederick’s attention was wholly taken up with his companion. She had but to raise her eyes to see Madelene’s face beaming with pleasure.

Suddenly the voice of a stranger roused Tessibel from her bitter meditation.

“I heard, Mr. Waldstricker, you’ve located Andrew Bishop. It’s true, I hope.”

If it hadn’t been for the queer feeling in her legs, Tessibel would have stood up. Located Andy Bishop where? Why in her shanty, of course, up in the garret under the straw tick. If they had found him, it must have been there. When? Tonight, since she’d left home. She bent over and searched the table for Waldstricker. He was seated next to Helen Young, and his gaze was directed toward his questioner.

“Well,” he replied, “that’s not quite right, but we hope ” he hesitated, swept his flashing eyes to Tessibel and smiled, “we hope to have him back in Auburn soon. I have two good detectives working for me.”

Taking a deep breath of relief, Tess subsided in her chair, and she was not sorry when the signal was given for the company to leave the table.