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Page 31 text:
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Qllafiifi rnpli rg. T was many years after the day of our graduation. Since then I had experienced the cares and pleasures of half a lifetime, and had all but forgotten the months spent within the walls of our dear old Alma Mater, where by chance I went one night to hear a famous singer who had moved multitudes by her power. Not until she began her song did I fully recognize her, and then my thoughts flew back to the nights when Marie sang at school and when we nine stood on the rostrum together at M. B. S., our diplomas in our hands, life lying fair and beautiful before us. In the dream vista I saw again the old Grey Man of the North as he he had appeared to me in the gathering twilight of my last day at school, when he muttered strange words concerning the future that stretched out before each of us. What had happened to each since then ? What glory or happi- ness had crowned those lives? Where were they? and did they remember? A sudden longing for them took possession of me and my resolve was fixed to find them or to hear from them. The next morning I saw Marie and heard from her own lips the story of her life ; it had been truly rich and full of opportunities. For years she had worked and studied and striven till cities and nations vied with one another in doing her homage. And not praise alone had her gifts brought forth ; men had been drawn out of the very depths by the power of her music and the flood-gates of beauty and tenderness had been opened. O Wise Man of the
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Page 32 text:
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North, did your veiled prophecy contain anything of richer promise for our dark - haired Philomela than the reality holds ? The very next day my friend, the German professor, told me that Lillie had just returned from abroad, w here she had been studying the languages and making researches in some old Anglo - Saxon manuscripts found in England. He spoke of her almost reverently. Her kno vledge, it is immense, he said, she leads in her branch always, her head is full of truth and she never forgets. The pi(5 ure gallery v as open, and, allured by delightful memories and gay voices I made by way within. There I joined a crowd that was standing before a beautiful painting, the gem of the colle(5 ion. I looked at it again with interest, for I knew the honored artist and the greatness of her fame, my old school-mate Hill, whose picStures and sketches are copied and sent throughout the country into the very homes where her sweet stories are read with eagerness and reread with lingering appreciation. On my journey I spent the night in my old school town, and there where I had known her, I found Annie again. Married, of course, and a marvelously neat and well - kept home was the one to which she welcomed me, for she had carried into it the patience and determination which overcome all difficulties. Virginia! I cried, as I stepped off the train at my next stopping place, surely you are Virginia, your bright face betrays you. And I was right. She was married, too, and was making life a happy dream for the one whom she had captivated by her music and charmed by her winning ways years before. Where shall I go next? I thought, when I left Virginia ' s merry home. I was anxious indeed to visit Gabriella in her Southern city, where she still rules as queen in her social circle, but learning that she was preparing to spend the winter in historic Rome, I went instead to the rolling West, where I found Bessie studying prairie life in all its phases, making drawings for a great history of the West to be issued in the spring. Well satisfied herself with her fame, what more could her friends wish for her.
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