The Pit

n, her younger sister Page, and their aunt-Aunt Wess'-were still waiting for the rest of the theatre-party to ap

the outside and inside doors of the entrance chanced to be open simultaneously, a sudden draught of air gus

ers had invited the two sisters and their aunt to share their box with them. It had been arranged that the party should assemb

last time, "what can be keeping them. Are you

beautiful. Her almost extreme slenderness was, however, her characteristic; the curves of her figure, the contour of her shoulders, the swell of hip and breast were all low; from head

the middle of this paleness of brow and cheek, her deep brown eyes glowed lambent and intense. They were not large, but in some indefinable way they were important. It was very natural to speak of her eyes, and in speaking to her, her friends always found that they must look squarely into their pupils. And al

movement. She was unquestionably beautiful. Her mouth was a little large, the lips firm set, and one would n

sed high for the first time this night, was brown. But Page's beauty was no less marked than her sister's. The seriousness of her expression, however, was more not

would come in here; they wouldn't wait outside-not on s

waiting, found a vague amusement in counting the number of people who filtered in single file through the wicket where the tickets were presented. A great, stout gentleman in eveni

ready, please! Have

you ever see-and every one you ever

of the crowd and flashed like mica flakes as the wearers moved. Everywhere the eye was arrested by the luxury of stuffs, the brilliance and delicacy of fabrics, laces as white and soft as froth, crisp, shining silks, suave satins, heavy gleaming velvets, and brocades and plushes, nearly all of them white-violently so-dazzling and splendid under the blaze of the electrics. The gentlemen, in long, black overcoats, and satin mufflers, and opera hats; their hands under the el

theatre, were swathed to the eyes in furs. The spume and froth froze on the bits of the horses, and the carriage wheels crunching through the dry, frozen snow gave off a shrill staccato whine. Yet for all this, a crowd had collected about the awning on the sidewalk, and eve

ing only at intervals, and from door to door of the carriages thus immobilised ran a score of young men, their arms encum

nds and had gone inside. Laura, for whom this opera night had been an event, a thing desired and anticipated with all the eagerness of a girl who had lived for twenty-two years in a seco

n't it too bad. I can't im

iation a little lost by two years of city life

air of the overture is repeated in the

g late. Even some of the other people who were waiting, chatted calmly among themselves. Directly behind them two men, their

tles for thirty cents on the dollar.

rner. The short interest was too small

talking about, those men. Landry Court told me all about it. Mr. Helmick h

was confused by all these figures murmured just behind her, began over again, her lips silently

will peg the mark

t to. Corn is

argins in my life. Some of t

ffice window, the one with his back towards us, the one with his hands in his overcoat po

know. I don't know, child.

our party to-night. I heard Mrs. Cressler say she would ask

, Page," exclaimed Laura.

shook h

me. It was at the Cresslers, and we just said 'Ho

ls. "It's all right. They'll be here in a minut

n of an indeterminate age-judged by his face he might as well have been forty as thirty-five. A heavy mustache touche

Page, looking quickly away.

o averted

m and introduce ourself, or reca

't," gasped Page. "I

s'?" appealed Laura. "W

stoms, was helpless. Again she withdrew

ut it," she answered. "But

on't know, I don't want to-Laura, I should just die," she exclaimed wit

ed Laura decisively. There were actual tears in

you girls can do just as you p

f I were to speak to him? We're going to

" said Aunt Wess', "and see. May

know us,-just as Page says. And if he did

lie, it wouldn't b

's place. If he's a gentleman, he would feel that he just coul

ink best, Laura

did not move, and anoth

Cressler, was not opposed to speculation. Though not a member of the Board of Trade, he nevertheless at very long intervals took part in a "deal" in wheat, or corn, or provisions. He believed that all corners were doomed to failure, however, and had predicted Helmick's col

"This was the night, and this was the place, and it is long past the time. We could telephone to th

els vaguely. No one seemed ready to act upon La

king at the other two, as if to demand

n't," declare

and then if the Cresslers are not here I will speak to him.

s still failing to appear, temporised yet

e-I can't u

e about her, she crossed the v

Something had gone wrong, and the instinct of the man, no longer very young, to keep out of strange young women's troubles betrayed itself in the uneasy glance that he shot at her from under his heavy eyebrows. But the look faded as quickly as it had come. Laura guessed that he had decided that in such a place as this he need have no su

, but I believe th

at she should know his name, and by now she was ready

ow much more confused than

same party to-night with the Cresslers. But they don't seem to

owledge that she controlled the little situation, that

" she continued. "I believ

age, that if for one instant he should deem her to be bold, he would offer a mortal affront. She had not

red. "And you have been waiting, too? What a pity!" And he permitted himself

etermine; and she could see that he began to experience a certain distress, was beating a retreat, was ceding place to her. Who was she, then, this tall and pretty young woman, with the serious, unsmiling face, who was so perfectly at ease, and who hustled him about and made him feel as tho

you might telepho

lephone, unfortuna

O

end, he entertained for an instant the notion of dashing out into the street in a search for a messenger boy, who would

that something

"I guess there's nothing to be done but

d guessed that Laura was none too gracious. Always anxious that her sister

The man will hate the very sound of her name all the rest of his life." Then all at once

Mrs. Cressler-a fine old lady, in a wonderful ermine-trimmed cape, whose hair was powdered-exclaim at the top of her

e. The incident seemed to be closed

young girl perfectly. The two young men were already acquainted with the Dearborn sisters and Mrs.

hair and dark eyes that snapped like a terrier's. He made friends almost at first sight, and was one of those fortunate few who were favoured equally of men and women. The healthiness of his eye and skin persuaded to a belief in the healthiness

. I think two at a time is as much as is legal. And we had to wait for three. Yes, sir; three, think of that! I shall look i

ling the party, "shall we go in? I'm af

hile they moved to the wicket, as if t

w England farm behind him, and with his family emigrate toward the Mississippi. He had come to Sangamon County in Illinois. For a time he tried wheat-raising, until the War, which skied the prices of all food-stuffs, had made him-for those days-a rich man. Giving up farming, he came to live in Chicago, bought a seat on the Board of Trade, and in a few years was a millionaire. At the time of the Turco-Russian War he and two Milwaukee men had succeeded in cornering all the visible supply of spring wheat. At the end of the thirtieth day of the corner th

danger of trading in margins. Speculation he abhorred as the small-pox, believing it to be impossible to corner grain by any means or under any circumstances. He was accustomed to say: "It can't be done; first, for the reason that there is a great harvest of w

ung man who had come with Landry Court managed to plac

r them after all. My

ican Beauty, pinned to the shoul

ried to select the prettiest, and I think I

n it, it is the pre

isputable. But he was by no means dependent upon his profession for a living, his parents-long since dead-having left him to the enjoyment of a very considerable fortune. He had a beautiful studio in the Fine Arts Building, where he held receptions once every two months, or whenever he had a fin

dies at the time, consumed with vague ambitions to be a great actress of Shakespearian roles, had told him she could care for nothing but her art. He had smiled and said that he could wait, and, strangely enough, their r

re checking their coats, Laura ov

ow about

impatient movement

the fool thinking

ratory to checking them; and instantly there was a flash of a half-dozen eyes in the direction of th

led burst of music, followed by a long salvo of applause. Laura's cheeks flamed with impatienc

upholstery, and gas, enveloped her upon the instant. It was the unmistakable, unforgettable, entrancin

standing up, compacted into a suffocating pressure, and for the m

ra

d, g

well

re! E

ght a glimpse of the stage. It was set for a garden; at the back and in the distance a chateau; on the left a bower, and on the r

ad, this is the second act already; you've missed the whole first act-and this song. She'll sing it over a

nal for certain murmurs of "Sh! Sh!" Mrs. Cressler made Laura occupy the front seat. Jadwin took her cloak from her, and she settled herself in her chair and looked about her. She could see but

once more sang the aria. The melody was simple, the tempo easily followed; it was

asy it was to be good and noble when music such as this had become a part of one's life; how desirable was wealth when it could make possible such exquisite happiness as hers of the moment. Nobility, purity, courage, sacrifice seemed much more worth while now than a few moments ago. All things not positively unworthy became heroic, all things and all men. Landry Court was a young chevalier, pure as Galahad. Corthell was a beautiful artist-priest of the early Renaissance. Even Jadwin was a merchant prince, a great financial captain. And she herself-ah, she did not know; she dreamed of another Laura, a better, gentler, more beautiful Laura, whom everybody, everybody loved dearly and tenderly, and who loved eve

in red plush doublet and grey silk tights. His chin advanced, an arm extended, one hand pressed to his

as critical to extremes, approved, nodding his head. Laura and Page clapped their hands ti

. Too bad. You should have

o a murmur, and the tenor and the soprano reentered. He clasped her in his arms and sang a half-dozen bars, then holding her hand, one arm still about her waist, withdrew from her gradually, till she occupied the fron

that she could loose her clasp upon the sordid, material modern life that, perforce, she must hold to, she knew not why, and drift, drift off into the past, far away, through rose-

ude itself upon her attention. Try as she would, she could not shut it out, and now, as the music died away fainter and fainter, till voice and orchestra blen

he very least. Two hundred carloads wer

about her. But she could see no one not interested in the stage. Why could not men leave

across the footlights. The soprano vanished, only to reappear on the balcony of the pavilion, and while she

red and si

ysed th

thousand

he lights went up.

ith the staccato chatter of a multitude of women. But she herself seemed far away-she and Sheldon Corthell. His face, dark, romantic, with the silky beard and eloquen

had been excluded from their conversations, but it was to have been when they were alone, remote, secluded, not in the midst of a crowd, brilliant electrics dazzling their eyes, the humming of the talk of hundreds assaulting their ears. But it seemed as if these i

ssary, is it, to tell you

w a lon

I know yo

of the drawing-room, made it appear as though they talked of commonplaces; as for Laura, exalted, all but h

e said; "I kno

urged. "Does it mean nothing to

n this atmosphere of silk and jewels, in this show-place of a great city's society-than in a mystic garden of some

. "I don't know. I should rat

-he raised his head sharply, suddenly proud-"the great honour of the opportunity of giving you all that I have of good. God give me humility, but that is much since I have known you. If I were a better man because of myself, I would not presume to speak of it, but if I am in anything less selfish, if I am more loyal, if I am str

up the stairway close at hand. The tide of promenaders set towards the en

she had ever known. Ah yes, she was loved, just as that young girl of the opera had been loved. For this one evening, at least, the beauty of life was unmarred, and no cruel word of hers shou

surrendering to the impuls

d," she cried, "gla

d say anything more Land

s. She had no sense of humour. She was not tolerant; her ideas of propriety and the amenities were as immutable as the fixed stars. A fine way for Laura to act, getting off into co

ly. "I should think you'd feel as though y

ox. The rest of the pa

Cressler, when they had s

t-ever," she answered. "

the friend of the tall fellow with a cloak. But why does he seem so sorry

. It seems he's terribly dissipated-drinks. Yes, sir, like a fish. He had delirium tremens once behind th

're making it up as you go along." And in th

the naive melody of the Italian school and the elaborate complexity of Wagner. I

r in the vestibule during the entr'

ld rather hear my old governor take his guitar and sing 'Father, oh father, come home wit

ting their coat-tails, fingering their sheet music. Soon they began to tune up, and a vague bourdon of many sounds-the subdued snarl of the cornets, the dull mutter of the bass viols, the liquid gurgling of the fl

ed his baton, then brought it slowly down, and while from all the instruments at once issued a prolonged minor chord, emphasised by a muffled roll of the kettle-drum, the curtain rose upon a mediaeval public square. The soprano was seated l

. Cressler, leaning over Laura's shoul

ra, searching the darkness distressfully, for betwe

balance of three

out from under her brows, an arm stretched out over the footlights. The baritone entered, striding to the left of the footlights, apo

ia, v

eco per

e orchestra blared, they f

ss' perplexed. "I thought the gentleman

" said Laura trying to explain. "And he forgives

rs ... seventy cents ...

io developed that had but a mediocre success. At the end the baritone a

emo, a

r libretto, all at sea once more. "I can't understand. She sa

re comes the tenor. Now th

baritone, leaning forward, his hands upon his chest. Though the others sang in Italian, the t

aitre

e et c

y the young lady and be done w

was recalled three times. A duel followed between the baritone and tenor, and the latter, mortally wounded, fell into the arms of his friends uttering broken, vehement notes. The chorus-made up of the city watch and town's people-crowded in upon the back of the stage. The soprano

led at exact intervals. The director beat time furiously, as though dragging up the notes and chords with the end of his baton, while the horns and corn

g out the notes with vigorous twists of her entire body, and tossing them off into the air with sharp fli

fido, l

he extreme left of the stage the contralto, in tights and plush doublet, turned to the audience, extending her hands, or flinging back her arms. She raised her eyebr

elicita d

ers supported by his friends, sustained the

me m

mal

e so

e s'en

w what sources, after the manner of a management suddenly become economical. The women were fat, elderly, and painfully homely; the men lean, osseous, and distressed, in misfi

or, O b

again upon a higher key. The soprano's voice thrilled to the very chandelier. The o

fido, l

red th

abil m

ice, thrilling out again, ran up an astonishing crescendo that evoked veritable gasps from all parts of th

or, O b

r t

crash of harmony, a final enormous chord, to which every voice and every instrument c

me m

into the arms of her con

th the baritone, soprano, and other artists, and all bowed repeatedly. Then the curtain fell for the last time, the lights

f the opera. Words an

x with Mrs. Cressler, Corthell, and Jadwin. The others we

age-wings, drops, and backs-turned when Vasco da Gama put the ship about. Jadwin having criticised the effect because none of the actors turned with it, was v

row of the parquet-see, on the middle aisle-

rying hard to be agreeable, and before they had exchanged a dozen sentences, he had turned an awkward compliment. She guessed by his manner that paying attention to y

se with tremendous strength, and they would persist and persist and persist, unswerving, unwavering, untiring, till the Purpose was driven home. And the two long, lean, fibrous arms of him; what a reach they could attain, and how wide and huge and even formidable would be their embrace of affairs. One of those great manoeuvres of a fellow money-captain had that very day been concluded, the Helmick failure, and between the chords and bars of a famous opera me

morning. By the Lord! they fought each other when the

out close at hand, equally picturesque, equally romantic, equally passionate; but more than that, real, actual, modern, a thing in the very heart of the very life in which she moved. And here he sat, this Jadwin, quiet

l stare at her. And now, behold, she was studying him, and finding the study interesting. Out of harmony though she knew him to be with those fine emotions of hers of the early part of the evening, she neverthe

at her shoulder. "I knew you would. There is nothing like music such a

lations. With Jadwin somehow it had been different. She had felt his manhood more than her womanhood, her sex side. And between them it was more a give-and-take affair, more equality, mo

m the arms of the soprano, and calling out upon remorseless fate and upon heaven, and declaiming about the vanity of glory, and his heart that broke yet disdained tears, allowed himself to be dragged off the scene by his friend the basso. For the fif

tibule. But as they came out from the foyer, where the first draughts

rain

raining r

rs were lost; women, cloaked to the ears, their heads protected only by fichus or mantillas, quarrelled with husbands or cousins or brothers over the question of umbrellas. The vestibules were crowded to suffocation, and the aigrettes nodded and swayed again in alternate gusts,

iages. At the edge of the awning, the caller, a gigantic fellow in gold-faced uniform, shouted the numbers in a roaring, sing-song that dominated every other sound. Coachmen, their wet rubber coats reflecting the lamplight, called back and forth, furious quarrels bro

cried a ragged, half-grown

mour was increasing with every second: "What's your number, Laura? Yo

to Mrs. Cressler her appreciation and enjoyment. Corthell saw them to the

of the carriage's interior redol

! What an evenin

to hum or whistle for them the arias that had pleased them most. Each time they w

s' was still

y that lady and be done with it. Just as soon as they'd seem to have it all settled, he'd begin to

ee. The one who sang bass-

ed around so." But the audience itself had interested her,

man in the box next ours. Well! did you notice that!" She raised her e

gh the layer of slush-mud, half-melted snow and rain-that encumbered the pavement. In the gloom the girls' wraps glowed pallid and diaphanous. The rain le

cold air and the rain in her face had cooled her flaming cheeks and hot temples. She asked herself now if she did really, honestly love the artist. No, she did not; really and honestly she did not; and now as the carriage rolled on through the deserted streets of the business districts, she knew very well that she did not want to marry him. She had done him an injustice; but in the matter

ough a little space where she had rubbed the steam from the pane. Now, all at once, the strange appearance of the neighbourhood

bending over desks. Every office was open, and every one of them full of a feverish activity. The sidewalks were almost as crowded as though at noontime. Messenger boys ran

s it all?" s

explain, but all

s telling me. The 'commission district,' he called it. And these are

millions of dollars, and the tramping and the wild shouting of thousands of men filled all the air with the noise of battle! Yes, here was drama in deadly earnest-drama and tragedy and death, and the jar of mortal fighting. And the echoes of it invaded the very sanctuary of art, and cut athwart the music of Italy and the cadence of polite conversation, and the shock of it endured when all the world should have slept, and galvanised

es. Landry showed me it all one day. And, look back." She raised the flap that covered the little window at the back of the carriage. "See, down t

nd of the street the lead-coloured sky was rifted a little. A long, faint bar of light stretched across the prospect, and silhouette

raised against it the pile of the Board of Trade Building, black, grave, monolithic, crouching on its foundations, like a monstrous sph