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Show The Little Professor By DOROTHY DOUGLAS (Coiiyrinht. loia, by Associated Literary Press.) The little professor's eyes scanned the row of girls whose right hands reat time to the movement of his baton while they sang an exercise In solfeggio. "Miss Vance, you are out singing," sing-ing," he said without stopping the rhythm. Nadine Vance looked at him and a dull red crept up even to the line of her softly waving hair; her eves were brooding and somber. She made an effort to sing, but no sound Issued from the lips that were trembling. trem-bling. When the exercise was finished the little professor still kept his eyes on the girl. "Why do you not sing?" he asked In bis kindly manner. Nadine's heavy eyes were again raised to his and the hunted look of a doer at bay sent an expression of gracity Into the professor's face. "I cannot sing today," Nadine said In a hard, jerky voice. "It doesn't matter, anyway I am giving up the class this week." . A swiftly hidden emotion swept across the professor's eyes; then he went on with the rhythmical movement move-ment exercise. But the large class of girls, who one and all adored the little professor, felt strangely antagonistic toward Nadine Vance. In Eome way she had turned harmony into discord. It was wdth a certain sense of relief that the hour ended and the little profesosr dismissed his class with a kindly, paternal smile for each girl as she left the studio. Nadine Vance would have slipped out, too, but she found her escape blocked by his detaining hand. "Miss Vance," the professor's voice and eyes were serious, even grave, "I want to talk to you. Can you come here at about 4 o'clock this afternoon?" after-noon?" "No," Nadine put In swiftly. The girl's usually sweet, caressing voice was hard and strained. The profes-Bor's profes-Bor's searching eyes did not leave her lift If.! ! r nws MX .; Wmi&i mm mm lii "I Want to Talk to You This Afternoon After-noon at 4." face. "It will do no good to talk," she continued jerkily, "I have determined deter-mined to give up this branch of music." The professor's voice took on a compelling note. "I want to talk to you this afternoon after-noon at 4," he took her hand as he often did when parting from his pupils. pu-pils. ."You will come?" The color came fitfully into Nadine's cheeks, then It left her with a suddenly sudden-ly ten&e whiteness. "Yes. I will come. But you are compelling me to do something for which I know you will be sorry." She turned and was gone. The professor went slowly and thoughtfully back to the piano. "She Is unstrung some love affair." He communed with himself over the keys. "What strange vagaries the feminine temperament Indulges In!" The professor's fingers were piaying the rhapsody of his own mind and he was not quite conscious that the Inner man was seeking to forget the hours between the present and the hour of 4. Nadine dressed with unusual taste. She had sufficient of the feminine weakness struggling with temperament tempera-ment to realize the value of becoming clothes. Her costume was ravishing. "He will probably not even notice whether I have on heliotrope or burnt orange." A wistful little smile played about her lips. But iu truth she knew that nothing escaped the professor's keen eyes, not even the gradually increasing in-creasing turmoil In her own heart. "And now he is going to drag my secret se-cret away from me I know he is." A blush tingled over Nadine's entire being and she dropped her lids over the shamed eyes reflected in the mirror. mir-ror. When she entered the studio at 4 o'clock she still felt an utter lack of control over herself. "Now, Miss Vance," the hint of an eternal smile In his eyes, and which w-as a part of the professor, mingled oddly with the gravity of his voice, "you and I are going to have a good talk." He seated her on the wide couch and dropped Into his big 'arm chair. He looked Bteadlly into her. great brooding eyes for a moment and said tenderly, "My nightingale's eyes are shadowed, her song is silenced and" the little professor put In his usual portion of the lighter vein "her features are extraordinarily extraordinar-ily beautiful." A fleeting smile spent itself quickly quick-ly In Nadine's eyes. Then she looked at him in mute appeal, but she remained re-mained silent. "Come, tell your old teacher all about it. You are fighting something out in your own heart little girl and it doesn't pay. Something Is bound to give way." As the words "give way" left his lips Nadine felt the click of a key open the door of her heart. She cast a quick glance at the professor and slipped over and onto the wide arm of his chair. And because the little professor was a strong man and of well-controlled emotions he in no way Ehowed surprise, sur-prise, but only looked at her with his paternal smile l:i his eyes. He could feel the vibrations from her slender body and wondered at the pent-up struggle within her. He was not prepared pre-pared for the dry huskiness which spoke of deep feeling when after a moment she found voice. "Call me childish, unstrung anything any-thing you like." She buried her head In her arms on the back of his chair and drew a few spasmodic breaths. "But I'm not. I have struggled and fought against this thing called love. But It Is obsession, tyrrany a domineering dom-ineering master. And I am utterly weary trying to escape it." Nadine glanced shyly up. Her eyes were no longer brooding, but luminous lumin-ous and wonderful. The little professor profes-sor felt a subtle warmth stealing over him. Unconsciously he drew in a deeper breath of her fragrance. He wondered, a trifle apprehensively, just what the faint stirring within the depths of his being might portend. Nadine's voice continued in low-pitched, low-pitched, emotional cadence. She dropped her bead again on her arms and spoke almost to herself. , "Perhaps "Per-haps if I unburden my thoughts to you I may in a measure escape the bondage If not the obsession. It may be that in sharing my secret I may gain back the power of song, of laughter, laugh-ter, and win a few moments' respite from this unutterable longing, this pent up love that Is shadowing every gleam of happiness In life." She ceased speaking, but the little professor was looking with unseeing eyes at the white hand that lay Idle on her lap; he had scarcely been heeding her words, for the realization had stolen over him that something big and desperately necessary to his happiness was being dragged out of his reach. Suddenly, and with a force undreamed un-dreamed of, he turned and swept Nadine Na-dine off the arm of his chair and into his arms. "Stop! Don't tell me anything more about this love of yours I cannot stand it!" The little professor was trembling and his voice was even more husky than Nadine's own. "You have breathed your low tones into my ear and the scent of your hair in my nostrils and now your heart is pounding pound-ing against my own and when you have set my soul quivering with love for you do you think I am going to stand by and let you talk of love for some other man? You can struggle all you like, but I am going to hold you for my own!" As suddenly as he had taken her he let go his clasp, with a contrite realization of what he had done. "Forgive me, Nadine; it all came over me so suddenly just how dear you are to me." The little professor made a brave attempt at his kindly, paternal smile. "Can you forgive me now and leave me " But with a long-drawn sigh of contentment con-tentment Nadine crept back into his a.rms and twined her arms about him. "Whom did you think I loved?" she asked him. |