With Edge Tools Part 3

I don't regret it, either, for I am just as fond of refinement as you are; but what I do object to is the introduction of extraneous ideas which are contrary to the spirit of Americanism. I love Chicago because it is fairly American, and represents more truly than the older cities the Yankee spirit which made us a free people. You may have vulgar parvenus here, but where are they not to be found? This may be the only large city where New England Puritanism affects society, but it is, at least, American, and better than European immorality. There may be only a few people here who are initiated into the esoterics of manners and manias, but how many good husbands, loving wives, and happy children are there among your rich! you may dine at seven o'clock and go to dances at ten; some of you may talk with a tw.a.n.g and p.r.o.nounce _u_ like double _o_; but how many sn.o.bs and sycophants, how many unemployed and dissipated men, how many intriguers and gamblers have you in Chicago society? For my part I love refinement and _les pet.i.ts soins_ as much as you do, Marion; but if we can't have the good of European life without the bad, if we can't cultivate manners without vices, better far go back to sewing bees and church sociables, and keep our morals pure; better have baked beans and blue laws than truffled capon and depravity. There, I feel quite exhausted, but I have had my say."

"Really, Florence, you almost take my breath away. I have not heard such a screeching of the American eagle since I can remember. It ought to make me very much ashamed, I suppose, but somehow the flapping of the bird of freedom's wings never did inspire me."

"I positively refuse to quarrel any more, but I do wish you could feel different; you would be so much happier," Florence replied.

"O, it is of no use. I am discontented by nature, I suppose. My ideals are too high, my realities too low. Success among people of rank, reputation, and intellect, is what I desire; a position among merchants, manufacturers, and shop-keepers is what I have. For intellectual variety I read a few papers before the Renaissance Club, and meet such occasional notables as stop over here long enough to view the stock-yards. I am the wife of a Chicago banker with all the prerogatives of that position, but nothing more, and with no prospect of being anything more."

"Nothing short of a coronet and a Court appointment would satisfy you, I fear. As for merchants and shop-keepers, all American society is composed mainly of them or their spendthrift children. But I am firm in my intention not to argue any more, so let us go back to Madonna Laura.

If you want to feel better satisfied with Chicago, think about the sickening spectacle of Roman society at the time of Petrarch, and the futile efforts of his friend, Rienzi, to regenerate it."

"We sha'n't have time either for reading or discussion before dinner.

There is Roswell's key in the door, and he was never known to leave the office before six o'clock. What gown are you going to wear? Something charming, as usual; but don't forget that the drapery in the Auditorium is old gold plush."

"Why, Marion, I had quite forgotten we were going to the Opera to-night.

Tamagno in 'Otello': that will be a treat."

CHAPTER IV.

IN AN OPERA BOX.

A long and motley line of carriages was slowly arriving at the Auditorium entrance. A surging, gaping crowd was jostling the few policemen on duty and trying to catch a glimpse of the brilliant dresses of the women hurrying into the lobby. Long, furry wraps and covered heads, perhaps a gleam of hidden diamonds, were all they saw; but it was a pa.s.sing glance into a forbidden, dazzling world. Footmen scurried, doors were slammed, horses stamped, and husky-voiced policemen called out orders to the coachmen. A long awning covered the carpeted walk, and electric lamps shed a brilliant light upon the m.u.f.fled comers and the eager faces of the waiting crowd. It was not a wan, hungry crowd of starving beggars, such as often surrounds a foreign theater; it was not a silent, wondering crowd; but American-like, it was cheerful and humorous, envious, perhaps, but merry in its envy. It laughed and gibed at every novelty, and its jokes were shared alike by the smart English coachmen and the driver of the antiquated family "carry-all." It was impudent, too, but it was the impudence of the great Republic,--the bold a.s.sertion of freedom and prosperity.

In the crowded lobby long lines of people were depositing wraps at the cloak-room windows, some were standing in little groups, and hundreds of others were pa.s.sing up the grand marble staircase into the hall above; Libretto sellers' cries and the scurrying tread of many feet upon the hard mosaic mingled with the distant strains of music, and scores of glittering lights shone upon the marble walls, and the countless, brilliant dresses of the moving throng. On into the great hall the people went. Five thousand seats were being filled, and, tier above tier, they rose like a section of a Roman theatre. Two rows of boxes lined the sides. Delicate wall tints and carefully toned lights blended softly with pretty faces and many colored gowns. The colors were an artist's work and masterly was it done. Up from the stage rose a ma.s.s of faces. An unbroken mult.i.tude it was, grand and impressive. Down at the front a little man was frantically leading an army of skilled musicians, whose rhythmical efforts filled the n.o.ble audience-room with the overture of Verdi's masterpiece, and as the last note rolled far away, up into the balcony loft, and was lost amid the subdued whisperings and rustling programmes, the lights were dimmed, the stately curtain slowly rose, and ten thousand hands applauded a welcome to the great singer from distant Italy. Thousands of music lovers wonderingly listened to the amazing power and range of Tamagno's voice, hundreds stood at the back of the amphitheatre, and even the little swinging gallery away up in the eaves was crowded with humble enthusiasts. But there were a conspicuous few whose whisperings and laughter mingled with the artist's notes; a few whose bids were highest at the auction sale of boxes, and whose tardy, noisy coming accentuated their social prominence and exasperated every lover of good music and good manners.

Among these was Mrs. Roswell Sanderson, who, with her husband, Florence Moreland, and Mr. Walter Sedger, had just entered a box, in the upper, left-hand tier.

"What a superb audience-room," said Florence Moreland as she put aside her fur-lined cloak and took her opera gla.s.s out of its case. "How beautifully it lights up. I don't think I ever saw a finer sight."

"Do you think so, Florence?" replied Marion Sanderson. "To me it is just like everything else Chicago produces, stupendous and gaudy. They have tried to make an opera house, a concert hall and a convention room, and, consequently, have produced a building which is neither fish, flesh, nor fowl."

"What do you mean?" asked Florence.

"I mean that as an opera house it is a woful failure. They have shoved two tiers of boxes off at the sides and have given the entire house up to seats; they have put in a hideous organ where the proscenium boxes ought to be, and have invented all manner of machines for lowering the roof and shutting off the galleries; and as for those miserable little columns holding up that balcony, they are simply ridiculous."

"Marion very seldom admires home productions," Roswell Sanderson interposed.

"That is just the trouble," added Florence. "For my part I admire the progressive spirit which prompted the architect to depart from conventional ideas. If there are no boxes at the back, every one can see and hear, and I think that ma.s.s of people rising gently from the stage one of the most superb sights one could wish to see. The effects of the Paris and Vienna opera houses are not to be compared to it."

"Don't be so disagreeably contradictory to all I say," retorted Marion.

"I sha'n't for the present, dear, because I wish to hear some of that glorious music. You must not take what I say seriously."

Then they were silent, for, unconsciously, they were brought under the spell of the great tenor's art.

"What a divine voice that man has," said Florence, as the curtain slowly fell after the first act. "I fairly held my breath during that high _C_.

Mr. Sedger, please applaud, and help bring him out. There he comes!

Bravo, bravo, Tamagno!"

"I did the best I could, Miss Moreland," Walter Sedger said, after the applause of two recalls had died away. "But do you really enjoy this music so much? For my part I prefer opera-bouffe."

"I admire your frankness, Mr. Sedger," she replied. "There are so many people who adore Wagner because he is the fas.h.i.+on, and sneer at Verdi and the Italian school, when, if the truth were known, they have not the slightest conception of the good qualities of either. For my part I like any music from a hurdy-gurdy up, though an extended term of suffering under a German professor has finally produced a taste for such music as Verdi has given us in 'Otello', which seems to me quite as remarkable as some of Wagner's masterpieces."

"Well, I am glad you enjoy it, Miss Moreland, but I fear my education did not extend beyond the 'Mikado' and 'Ermine'; so when it comes to grand opera I must confess my pleasure is confined to the _entre acte_.

I love to see the people, and if it were not for being rude I think I should be tempted to run down to the club while the curtain is up."

"You have my permission, Mr. Sedger, but tell me who is that good-looking man with Mr. Wainwright, coming down this way?"

"He is a New Yorker; Duncan Grahame is his name. I met him at the club this afternoon."

"What is he doing here? One always seems to ask what a stranger is doing in Chicago: I don't know why, I am sure."

"He is out here on business in connection with an elevator trust. He seems to be a capital fellow, and, as he is a member of the Staten Club, I suppose he needs no further patent of respectability. But here he comes, so you can judge of him for yourself."

The two men of whom they were speaking entered the box. Harold Wainwright spoke to the ladies and introduced his friend. Mrs. Sanderson offered Duncan a seat beside her and said: "I have heard of you quite frequently, Mr. Grahame, from a friend in New York, Miss Sibyl Wright, and I think you should be grateful for having such an enthusiastic admirer."

"Doubly so considering that she is a woman and it was to you she spoke.

I also have heard of you from scores of people in the East, and I made Wainwright introduce me at the first opportunity. I arrived only this morning, and I a.s.sure you I am quite without a guiding hand."

"You make me smile and frown by turns," she replied. "I was tempted to feel flattered at the first part of your speech, but if it is a question of any shade in the desert, I shall not feel strongly inclined to offer you my protection in the Chicago wilderness."

"I think it would be advisable to interpret my speech as a compliment, as I seldom make them."

"Really, Mr. Grahame, I am tempted to call you rude."

"It is not rudeness but frankness, I a.s.sure you, and I spoke the truth.

I have really been most anxious to meet you, and now that my desire has been gratified I trust you will not be so cruel as to let the frown remain. There goes the curtain. I am going to beg permission to return after the next act."

"You deserve punishment for your rudeness, so I refuse to grant it. As a penance for your offense I shall expect you to remain where you are during this entire act and devote your energies to amusing me."

"I suppose I must submit, but please talk to me, as I am not bold and feel sure that your friend is a musical fiend who is quite prepared to cast furious glances at me should I be audacious enough to speak above a whisper."

"I see you are an a.n.a.lyst of character."

"Rather more of a synthesist, I imagine. I collect what both enemies and friends say of an individual and then build his character from those materials."

"How horrible! I trust you will never try your method on me."

"I have done so already."

"You wretch! What do you mean?"

"I mean that I have heard considerable about you in New York, and that I dined with six men at the City Club this evening. You were the one person in Chicago I was most desirous of meeting, so I managed to collect some most useful materials from which I have built my estimate of your character."

"I must call that the boldest piece of a.s.surance I ever heard of."