Philip: The Story of a Boy Violinist

by Virginia C. Young; Mary C. Hungerford

“Proud of him, Lillie! If he were a hundred times as beautiful and talented as you say, I should only feel a hundred times as much ashamed of being related to him.”

“Oh, Marion, don’t say that!” exclaimed Lillie, in sudden distress; “I thought you were over that feeling long ago. Just think how every one speaks of him, and only this morning papa was saying how proud we ought to be of him.”

“Yes,” said Marion, “I know it; but I know too that papa, in his secret heart, although he will never let himself say it, feels just as I do. It was a whim of Lord Ashden’s to educate him, and he can afford to enjoy his public triumph now because every one knows he is nothing to him; but all this notoriety makes our shame greater. Fancy being pointed out as the cousin of a professional musician! How can I ever go to the Crawfords’ or the Ashleighs’ again, or look any of my friends in the face, with such a fact made public!”

“But, Marion,” said tender-hearted Lillie, now sobbing, “see how he is received by the duchess. He went there last night, and this morning Lady Leaycroft left a card for him. She is Lord Ashden’s cousin, you know, and Aunt Delia says that after he has appeared at the duchess’ morning musicale he will be invited by all her friends. You know you would give anything to go to such houses yourself, Marion.”

“Yes, as an equal perhaps I should,” said Marion scornfully, “but not to be looked upon as occupying a menial position. Why, such people would regard Philip as of no more account socially than a flunky. They like to be entertained, and are willing to let him amuse them, but that is all. I have no doubt that even Lord Ashden thinks him no better than a valet.”

Hard, cruel, false, and unjust words falling from beautiful lips perfect enough to be chosen as an artist’s model, but coming from a heart filled with malice, envy, and dark, unlovely traits. And Philip, shrinking back into the depths of the great chair, beaten down as if by a blow, heard them all.

He found Marion at the table with the others, when he rather tardily answered the summons to dinner, and their meeting was quiet and cool enough. She showed nothing of the cordiality which her sisters felt for him, and his manner to her was as distant and grave as if he were the proud and self-sufficient relative instead of the obscure musician, whose birth and profession were disgraceful in her eyes.

But with all his quiet manner he never, for one half-instant, lost the bitter memory of those terrible words of Marion’s that had crushed his sensitive nature and wounded him more fearfully than if his actual living flesh had been pierced by a barb of steel. In his humility he never once thought of resenting even in thought the unkindness of her speech, or comforted himself with an assurance that her words were cruelly unjust; he simply sank into blank despair at the belief that all his efforts to elevate himself had been in vain, and all his hopes of winning fame and glory by his art the idle fancies of an ignorant dreamer.

Locked in his own room, while the family believed him still at the rehearsal, he had a fierce struggle with himself, and it was only love for dear old Aunt Delia and gratitude to Lord Ashden that helped him to regain composure at last, and not follow his first impulsive determination to fly anywhere, anywhere, off, far, far off, where they never should find him or hear of him again. But self-pleasing had never been his habit, so it came rather more naturally to him than it might to some to conquer his own desires and compel himself to keep the engagements for the public and private concerts, the thought of which had now grown hateful to him.

His beautiful spiritual face was startlingly pale and his hands trembled nervously, but Aunt Delia never doubted but that these were the signs of a natural excitement caused by the anticipation of the approaching concert. His appearance and manners showed refinement and cultivation so far beyond anything that Marion had expected to see that she was really greatly surprised and, in spite of her previous sentiments, interested in him. But not even to her sister would she admit that her views were in any way changed, and when going to the concert was discussed, she would not acknowledge any desire to hear Philip play, but appeared to give her consent to going with Lillie and Miss Acton simply to please the others.