The mountain Democrat., 1863-01-10

your mere needs, ana neeQ Tor nothing
else! You must wish to live, Wilhelm,
10 81 s11isss ....ee s.. .S,s- I4lsASv, ~ hGVe
your name hOnOred and your works cher
ished. You owe this to yourself Paint
fewer pictures and work more
But l have not your talent, gentle Ma
ria
You have more than my poor talent,
Wilhelm, thousand times. With ell my
labor, pouring out my life at the foot Of
my easel, | know l cannot approach the
genius you possess, il you would but rem
der it justice
J - y hsVp nat vOuxk5~ret;~@ N~r;s
| ~1ou loved your art once, Wilhelm
ypp had high, grand thoughts about it
ohce.'
'Boyish Dreams
They might have been the facts of
your manhood, had you chosen SO, good
friend
1t was hard upon him-who had come
to create a sensation, to win the admira-
tion of the fair enthusiastic meet so
chilly welcome, such lecture upon his
shortcomings. Maria herself began 10
think SO at length, and changed the. sub.
ject
DO you like my lilies 2
They are exquisite, they are inimitable
full Of your own grace and sublety and
expression. You have nearly completed
them
No, there remains much to do. See,
these leaves are hardly touched; this bud
is mere raw color
There was q pause. He looked from
the panel to her. Standing so humbly
and gently before most marvellous effort
Of painting. how could he help great ad-
mirstion and love possessing his heart
How could he hinder them from sparkling
in his handsome eyes3 His one hand
rested on his hip, the other toyed grace
fully with the silver tassels of his cloak.
He was in his most winning attitude
Maria looked up at him innocently, read
something of his thoughts in his face, and
then turned away, little frightened per.
haps
You remember he said, at length, In
his most musical voice-'yOu remember,
Maria, my first coming here? my assumed
bearing, my affecting to be dealer, come
to purchase your works, when my real
aim was to see you, to become acquainted
with your
1T was a trick, Wilhelm, a shameful
trick and she moved away from him.
1T was fair, for loved you
She put her hand to her heart, as tho
she had been struck there. She could not
sceak, but she waved her hand, by her
gesture implor;ng him to desist.
I loved you then, Maria, and from that
day have loved you more and more. 1t
have neglected my art, as you say, may
not love be my excuse? Let that plead
for me do not judge me too harShly.'
She heard him like one in pain, tremb-
ling, and with closed, quivering eyes. He
was about to continue; she placed her
hand gently upon his.
Cease, Wilhelm, | entreat Of YOU
you don't love me, Maria?' The ques-
tion was so musically, willingly, fervidly
breathed, it was almost irresistible. For
some moments Maria could not speak,
Her breath came and went so hurricdly,
and she trembled SO.
I dare not'-in broken whisper.
You doubt me?' She bowed her head
affirmatively, and to hide her bushes and
her tears.
Wilhelm had had little experience in
failure. lie was puzzled, amazed; could
it be that his love was rejected? He was
about to break out into expoStulatiOnS,
into passionate oaths and entreatieS but
look from Maria stopped him.
You, who are false to art, can l hope
that Won will he true tn me p
But love you
You loved art once, Wilhelm; you neg
lect it now
But will never neglect you, dearest
swear it
False in one, false in ALL
Maria, this is cruelty
Let it be so, Wilhelm, and let US part.
Leave me to my lilies they can never be
to me less good, and pure, and true. /
cannot quit them to give my troth to one
who may one day turn from me; his love
fallen from him like withered leaf. i'll
surrendered them, Wilhelm, for you, and
the time should come, as it would, doubt
not, when you would cease to love me
when should be to you poor frail wO-
man, charmless, lustreless-I could not
bear it. Wilhelm, it would be death
But this is 9 nightmare, darling; it
never shall be truth. love you; love
art; have never ceased to love art; will
always love you both
But Maria only shook her head sadly,
murmuring:
False 10 one, false in all
But try me; these are not mere words
idle, vain; test them; they will bear it. ;
She looked at him earnestly. There
seemed honesty in his face and in his
speech.
First, then, you will be true to art
i swear it.
You will work honestly; you will be at
your easel for six hours day ut least, con.
linuOusly; painting scrupulOusIy, render
ing faithful account Of the objects you
paint, as they seem to you; not tTickily, or
to produce rapidly, or to sell quickly
You will shun low company; you will not
be seen with He'll, or Brocken, or Wander
Noove. You will avoid the Golden Calf !;
you will cease to make Delft ring with
your dissipations. Do you hear me, Will
helm?'
4 will do all this, Maria
And for six months--mark that; you
will do all this for six months
i may see you the while. may not p
NO, Wilhelm, it is better not; it is, bet
ter not, for both our sakes. At the end
of six months come to me. Tell me you
have done all this faithfully tell me you
have been true to yourself-tO art--tO me;
tell me that you love art truly, and as you
love art, love me-
And if do this you-'
She gave him little white hand he
pressed it passiOnately to his lips.