ey did.

And when the supreme moment of her trial came, and robed in spotless
white, without an ornament, save her matchless eyes, her perfect throat,
her rounded arms, she stepped into view of that audience, not for one
instant did she falter.

The Alhambra was filled that evening with its usual gathering in search
of pleasure. A few hundred blase men and women who had seen everything
on the boards of the regular theatres now drifted into this, hoping for
a new sensation. Twice as many more store girls whose escorts had
brought them there because admission was cheap, and a medley of all
sorts, old and young. The saucy balladist in short skirts had sung her
song, the soloist in black had picked off his banjo act, the acrobats
had leaped and twisted and turned, the magician pulled a stock of
worsted balls, a hoopskirt, and a rabbit out of a silk hat borrowed from
the audience, and then, after frying an egg in it, returned it unharmed;
and the usual vaudeville program was nearing its end when those listless
people saw Mona step out from the wings and, without once lifting her
eyes to them, bow slightly, and raising her violin, begin playing.

And even as Winn's heart had been touched by the wonderful sweetness of
her simple music that day in the cave, so were theirs reached now.

It was not classic, or new, or unheard before--just a medley of old-time
Scotch airs that carried the mirth of a merry dance and the mood of
tender love. But the mirth and the mood were there, thrilling,
quivering, whispering, even as a human voice would speak.

And when the yearning of that medley ended its final appeal, and Mona
for the first time raised her eyes to them as she bowed, a storm of
applause that fairly shook the building greeted her.

Again and again was it repeated, until, bending her queenlike head, she
once more raised her violin.

And now came "Annie Laurie."

Slowly caressing her violin with her face, even as a mother would her
babe, Mona played.

And every whispered heartache, every pulse of undying love that that
old, old song contains, came forth to reach and thrill the hearts of
that audience as naught else could.

When it was ended and Mona bowed low, what a storm came!

Men rose and cheered and women, too, while they brushed the tears away.

Again and again did that wave of stamping and voiced applause arise,
till the very roof quivered, and still once again.

And Mona, the poor child, whose will, stronge