An Ambitious Man

Up in the loft of St Blank's Church the young organist had been

practising the whole morning. People paused on the street to listen

to the glorious sounds, and were thrilled by them, as one is only

thrilled when the strong personality of the player enters into the

execution.

Down into the committee-room, where several deacons and the young

rector were seated discussing some question pertaining to the well-

being of the church, the music penetrated too, causing the business

which had brought them together, to be suspended temporarily.

"It is a sin to talk while music like that can be heard," remarked

one man. "You have found a genius in this new organist, Rector."

The young man nodded silently, his eyes half closed with an

expression of somewhat sensuous enjoyment of the throbbing chords

which vibrated in perfect unison with the beating of his strong

pulses.

"Where does she come from?" asked the deacon, as a pause in the music

occurred.

"Her father was an earnest and prominent member of the little church

down-town of which I had charge during several years," replied the

young man. "Miss Irving was scarcely more than a child when she

volunteered her services as organist. The position brought her no

remuneration, and at that time she did not need it. Young as she

was, the girl was one of the most active workers among the poor, and

I often met her in my visits to the sick and unfortunate. She had

been a musical prodigy from the cradle, and Mr Irving had given her

every advantage to study and perfect her art.

"I was naturally much interested in her. Mr Irving's long illness

left his wife and daughter without means of support, at his death,

and when I was called to take charge of St Blank's, I at once

realised the benefit to the family as well as to my church could I

secure the young lady the position here as organist. I am glad that

my congregation seem so well satisfied with my choice."

Again the organ pealed forth, this time in that passionate music

originally written for the Garden Scene in Faust, and which the

church has boldly taken and arranged as a quartette to the words,

"Come unto me."

It may be that to some who listen, it is the divine spirit which

makes its appeal through those stirring strains; but to the rector of

St Blank's, at least on that morning, it was human heart, calling

unto human heart. Mr Stuart and the deacons sat silently drinking in

the music. At length the rector rose. "I think perhaps we had

better drop the matter under discussion for to-day," he said. "We

can meet here Monday evening at five o'clock if agreeable to you all,

and finish the details. There are other and more important affairs

waiting for me now."