Rose O'Paradise

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE LITTLE FIDDLER

  Jinnie's heart was skipping about like a silly little kitten as shesat watching Peg's stiff fingers making large stitches in the lace.

  "Oh, Peg, isn't it lovely? Perfectly beautiful! Nobody ever had adress like that!... My, Peggy! How your fingers fly!"

  Peg's face was noncommittal to the point of blankness.

  "Tain't no credit to me what my hands do, Miss Jinnie," she saidquerulously. "I didn't make 'em."

  The girl's happiness was absolutely complete. The dress would befinished and Sunday evening----oh, Sunday evening! Then she walkedrestlessly to the window and studied the sky.

  "I hope it doesn't rain to-morrow!... Oh, Peggy, don't you hope sotoo?" Mrs. Grandoken glowered at her.

  "Kid," she said, "come away from that window. You been doin' nothin'but wishin' 'twon't rain all day. You'll wear out the patience of theAlmighty; then he'll make it rain an' soak you through a-purpose."

  "I don't know which I like best, Lafe," the girl remarked presently,turning to the cobbler, "the red roses or the yellow."

  Bobbie came to Jinnie's side and fingered the lace.

  "Tell me how the dress looks, dear," he whispered, tugging at hersleeve.

  "YOU NEEDN'T FEEL SO GLAD NOR LOOK AS IF YOU WAS GOIN' TOTUMBLE OVER. IT AIN'T NO CREDIT TO ANYONE THEM CURTAINSWAS ON THE SHELF WAITIN' TO BE CUT UP IN A DRESS FOR YOUTO FIDDLE IN."]

  "Sure," agreed Jinnie. "Feel right here! Well, that's a beautiful redrose and here's a yellow one." She took his small finger and traced itover a yard of lace. "Feel that?"

  "Yes," murmured Bobbie.

  "Well, that's a green vine running up and down, and all around amongthe roses."

  "Oh, my!" gasped Bobbie. "Red and yellow. That's how the sun lookswhen it's goin' down, ain't it? And green's like the grass, eh?"

  "Just the same," replied Jinnie, laughing.

  "It's a beauty," supplemented Lafe, glowing with tenderness. "Therewon't be a dress at that party that'll beat it."

  Mrs. Grandoken shook out the voluminous folds of lace.

  "Anybody'd think to hear you folks talk that you'd made these rag tagswith your toe nails," she observed dryly. "The smacking of some folks'lips over sugar they don't earn makes me tired! Laws me!... Now I'lltry it on you, Jinnie," she ended.

  Jinnie turned around and around with slow precision as Mrs. Grandokenascertained the correct hanging of the skirt. When the last stitcheshad been put in, and the dress lay in all its gorgeous splendor acrossthe chair, Peg coughed awkwardly and spoke of shoes.

  "You can't wear them cowhides with lace," said she.

  "I might make a pair if I had a day and the stuff," suggested Lafe,looking around helplessly.

  "Ain't time," replied Peg. And of course it was she who gave Jinniesome money taken from a small bag around her neck and ordered her tothe shop for shoes.

  "She ought to have a fiddle box," Lafe suggested.

  "There ain't 'nough money in the house for that," replied Peg--"butI'll give her a piece of the curtains to wrap it up in."

  "That'll look better'n a box," smiled Lafe. "I'm a happy cobbler, Iam."

  When Jinnie returned with a pair of low black slippers, no one noticedthat they weren't quite what should have been worn with a lace frock.Contentment reigned supreme in the Grandoken home that day.

  * * * * *

  Sunday evening at seven Jinnie displayed herself to Lafe. The cobblergave a contented nod.

  "You and the dress're beautiful," he ruminated. "Wonderful!... Kissme, Jinnie!"

  She not only kissed Lafe, but Bobbie, Happy Pete, and Milly Ann, too,came in for their share. Peg looked so sour, so forbidding, thatJinnie only faltered,

  "Much obliged, Peggy darling.... Oh, I'm so happy!" She stood directlyin front of Mrs. Grandoken. "Aren't you, dear?" she besought.

  "We're all glad, lass," put in the cobbler.

  Jinnie's blue, blue eyes were seeking approbation from the gaunt,frowning woman.

  "None of you've got the sense of my bedpost," snapped Peg, sniffingthe air. "Get along. They're waitin' for you."

  Jinnie arrived in great excitement at Theodore King's door. Shestumbled up the stone steps of the mansion with the fiddle carefullywrapped under her arm.

  "Is Mr. King here?" she asked of the maid, hesitatingly.

  She stood very still, scarcely breathing, until they called the masterof the house, and as Theodore's eyes fell upon the lace dress, withits red and yellow roses and green vines running the length of theslim young figure, he smoothed away a smile that forced itself to hislips.

  Out of gratitude to Peggy, Jinnie felt she ought to speak of thefrock, so with an admiring glance downward, she confided:

  "Peggy made my dress out of her dead mother's curtains, and gave methis piece for my fiddle.... Wasn't it lovely of her?"

  The pleading, soulful, violet eyes stirred Theodore King with a newsensation. He had passed unscathed through the fires of imploring,inviting glances and sweet, tempting lips, nor yet realized that someday this black-haired girl would call him to a reckoning.

  "It's very pretty, very pretty," he affirmed hurriedly. "I'm gladyou're here.... Just wait for a moment. I'll come back for you."

  There was a fixed line between his handsome eyes as he faced hisguests. Theodore couldn't analyze his feelings toward Jinnie, but hewas determined none should make sport of her.

  "I've prepared a great treat for you," he stated, smiling, "but I wantto ask you to overlook anything that may seem incongruous, for themusician is very sensitive."

  Then he went back for Jinnie, and she followed him into the largeroom. The gorgeous red and yellow roses in the limply hanging blouselent a color to her sunburned skin.

  "You may play anything you like," Theodore whispered.

  "All right," nodded Jinnie.

  She unwrapped the fiddle and tuned it with nimble fingers. Not untilshe placed the instrument under her chin did she raise her head. Hereyes went searchingly from face to face of the attentive assembly. Itso happened that they fell upon a crown of golden hair above a pair ofdark eyes she vividly remembered. The glance took her back to thatnight more than two years before--to the night when her father died.

  Molly Merriweather was seated in queenly fashion in one of the largechairs, a questioning look stealing over her countenance. Jinniesmiled at her and began to play. It might have been the beautifulwoman opposite that brought forth the wild hill story, told inmarvelous harmonies. The rapt young face gave no sign ofembarrassment, for Jinnie was completely lost in her melodious task.Above the dimpled chin that hugged the brown fiddle, Theodore Kingcould see the brooding genius of the girl, and longed to bring apassionate lovelight for himself into the glorious eyes. The intensityof the music established in him an unconquerable hope--a hope thatcould not die as long as life was in him, as long as life was in thelittle fiddler.

  As Jinnie finished with dramatic brilliancy, great applause andshowers of congratulations fell upon her ears. Theodore went to herquickly.

  "Wonderful! Splendid, child!" he declared joyously. "You're agenius!"

  His words increased her joy--his compelling dark eyes added to herdesire to do her best.

  She meditated one moment. Then thoroughly unconscious of herself,turned and spoke to the audience.

  "I'll play about fairies ... the ones who live in the woods and hideaway in the flowers and under the leaves."

  Once more she began to play. She believed in fairies with all herheart and had no doubt but that every one else did. Under the spell ofher music and her loveliness, imaginary elves stole from the solitudeof the summer night, to join their tiny hands and dance to the rhythmof her song.

  As she lowered her violin and looked around, she saw astonishment onthe faces of the strangers about her. A deathlike hush prevailed andJinnie could hear the feverish blood as it struck at her temples.Into her eyes came an unfathomable expression, and Theodore King,at
tracted by their latent passion, went rapidly to her.

  "It's exquisite!" he said vehemently. "Can't you see how much everyone likes it?"

  "Do you?" queried Jinnie, looking up at him.

  "I love it, child; I love it.... Will you play again, please?"

  A flame of joy suffused her as again she turned to the open-eyedcrowd.

  "Once," she informed them, "a big lion was hurt in the forest bylightning.... This--is--how he died."

  She slowly raised the instrument, and sounded a vibrant, resonant,minor tone, measured, full and magnificent. Each listener sank backwith a sigh.

  Jinnie knew the mysteries of the forest as well as a singer knows hissong, and she had not presented ten notes to the imagination ofTheodore's friends before they were carried away from the dainty roomin which they sat--away into a dense woodland where, for a fewminutes, she demonstrated the witching wonders of it. Then she slippedthe bow between her teeth and struck the violin strings with the backsof her fingers. The vibrations of impetuous harmony swept softlythrough the lighted room. Louder and louder was heard the awful furyof approaching thunder, while twinkling string-touches flashed forththe lightning between the sonorous peals.

  Jinnie never knew how the fiddle was capable of expressing thecautious tread of the terrified king of beasts in his isolatedkingdom, but her listeners beheld him steal cautiously from theunderbrush. They saw him crouch in abject terror at the foot of awide-spreading, gigantic tree, lashing his tail in elemental rage.Then another scintillating flash of lightning, and the beast caughtit full in the face. The slender hand of the little player was poisedabove the strings for a single vibrating moment, during which shestood in a listening attitude. Then, with the sweep of three slenderfingers, the lion's scream cut the air like a two-edged sword.

  Death came on rapidly in deep, resounding roars, and the misery of thecringing, suffering brute was unfolded--told in heart-rendingintonations, until at last he gave up his breath in oneterror-stricken cry.

  Jinnie dropped her hands suddenly. "He's dead," she said tremulously."Poor, poor lion!"

  She turned tear-wet eyes to Theodore King.

  "Shall I play any more?" she asked, shyly.

  The man shook his head, not permitting himself to speak.

  "Miss Grandoken has given us a wonderful entertainment," said he tohis friends; then turning to her, he held out his hand, "I want tothank you, Miss Grandoken."

  Many people crowded around her, asking where and how she had learnedsuch music.

  Molly the Merry, the mystified expression still on her face, drewnear.

  Again Jinnie smiled at her, hoping the lovely lips would acknowledgetheir former acquaintanceship. But as another person, a man, steppedbetween her and the woman, Jinnie glanced up at him. He was veryhandsome, but involuntarily the girl shuddered. There was something inthe curling of his lips that was cruel, and the whiteness of his teethaccentuated the impression. His eyes filled her with dread.

  "Where did you learn that wonderful music?" he smiled.... "I mean themusic itself."

  "Out of my heart," she said simply. "I couldn't get it anywhereelse."

  "She's very delightful!" said the stranger, turning to Theodore. "I'veforgotten her name?"

  He was so near her that Jinnie shrank back, and the master of thehouse noted her embarrassment.

  "Her name is Grandoken, Miss Grandoken.... Come," he said, holding outhis hand to Jinnie, and as she placed her fingers in his, he led heraway.

  A large car was waiting at the front door, and he held her hand in hisfor a few seconds. The touch of her fingers thrilled him through andthrough. He noticed her head just reached his shoulder and a consciousdesire to draw her to him for one blessed moment surged insistentwithin him. He dropped her hand suddenly.

  "I wish now," he said, smiling, "I had sent for you to come herebefore. It was such a treat!"

  Jinnie shrank away as he offered her a roll of bills. An unutterableshyness crept over her.

  "I don't want it," she said, gulping hard. "I'd love to fiddle for youall day long."

  "But you must take it," insisted King. "Now then, I want to know whereyou live. I'm coming to see your uncle very, very soon."

  Lafe and his wife were waiting for the girl, and the cobbler noticedPeggy's eyes were misty as Jinnie gave her the money. Over and overshe told them all about it.

  "And he's coming to see you, Lafe," she cried with a tremulous laugh."Mr. King says some day I'll be a great player. Will I, Lafe? Will I,Peggy?"

  "You may," admitted Peggy, "but don't get a swelled head, 'cause youcouldn't stop fiddlin' any more'n a bird could stop singin'.... Go tobed now, this minute."

  And as Jinnie slept her happy sleep in Paradise Road, another womanwas walking to and fro with a tall man under the trees at TheodoreKing's home.

  "I thought I'd scream with laughter when she came in," said Molly theMerry. "If it hadn't been for Theo's warning, I'm sure most of uswould.... Did you ever see such a ridiculous dress, Jordan?"

  The man was quiet for a meditative moment. "I forgot about the dresswhen she began to play," he mused. "The sight of her face would driveall thoughts of incongruity out of a man's mind."

  "Yes, she's very pretty," admitted Molly, reluctantly. "And Jordan, doyou know there's something strangely familiar about her face?... Ican't tell where I've seen her."

  "Never mind. The important thing to me is I must have money. Can'tkeep up appearances on air."

  "You know I'll always help you when I can, Jordan."

  "Yes, I know it, and I'll not let you forget it either."

  The woman gave him a puzzled look and the man caught her meaning.

  "You're wondering why I don't open offices here, aren't you? Well, aperson can't do two things at once, and I've been pretty busy tracingVirginia Singleton. And when I find her, you know very well I willreturn every penny I've borrowed."

  And later, when Molly went to her room, she walked up and downthoughtfully, trying to bring to her mind the familiar violet eyes andthe mass of purple black curls which were the crowning glory of JinnieGrandoken.