Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1865-04-22

neck SnOul0 never resi- IL 'cOulO not LOOK
on them after madamesis gone" ,
Nine. de Varigny sat down in large anti |
que chair, aud for two hours the painter
painted on in silence.
Then the count began to fear symptoms of
WEAKNESS in the model and suggested that
the work should stop for that day.
Philip threw down his brush, and the mar
ouise resumed her bonnet, inviting the paint
er to Join them at dinner on the following
Sunday.
ayes" said Phillip, "then will gaze on
you for hours, learn you by heart; but will
YOU not wear dress of deep blue color P
Blue is your color; that rich blue, like the
Italian sky, which our modern painters seem
| to have lost"
Nine. de Varigny drove home under very
singular impressions. She had talked great
deal about art; she had even met great art
lists. but she b. never lived in the artistic
world she could not distinguish between the
admiration of the artist and the man, and
mistook the enthusiasm of art for the Ian
| guage of passion.
She was deeply impressed, not that for an
| instant Nine. de Varigny intended to convert
the artist into lover; but what woman is
not fattered at inspiring passion at first
sight {? -rsxs-~ srr-rs.a. as,
Sunday evening came, and brought with it
the Count Servon and the artist. Nj. de Var
| iqnv was enchanted with him, and before he
/ had been five minutes in the house had dis
covered that he loved medals and coins.
i When after dinner they re-entered the
drawing-room, Nine. de Varigny exclaimed,
with cry of Joy, "Cecile~ and young girl
advanced eagerly to meet her.
She formed striking contrast to Nine. de
Varigny; she was tall and slight, seeming to
want the long white wings that painters give
/ to angels watching over monumental marbles.
| The expression of the face was profoundly
melancholy; none of the features were beau
tiful but the large, deep black eyes that SEEM
/ ed to have no hope in them. The cleaning
black hair was wound simply round her small
head; her hands, as they were seen coming
from her wide sleeve of some soft white tex
ture, were of marvellous beauty.
The artist paused in speech he was max
ing to the marquise about some valuable an
tiquarian collection, and turning abruptly to
the count; whispered to him, "Whois that?n
Mademoiselle Dalberg."
4 ssThat tells me nothing; with that express
sion fit for a martyr, she must have his
tory"
''She has a very common one, but she did
not take it in a common way. Her father
was Nine de Varigny's guardian, and the
marquis owes her fortune to his probity and
intelligence. At his death it was discovered
that he had not been SO careful of bis own
:wordly affairs as of his ward's-he left his
wife and daughter almost in penury."
dwell, mere money cannot have given that
| ethereal, ideal expression to that face.n
''No; at the time of NJ Dalberg's death his
daughter was on the point of marriage; on
the discovery of her fathers poverty her sui
tor declined to fulfill his engagements and
left her" -
''She loved him, then?"
81 think there was more pride than love. "
"The man could not have been worth re-
greet"
"Women are strange creatures"
~ Nine. de Varigny the next day asked the
count what bad been the subject of his con-
uersation She made no observation to the
count, but drove, as soon as she could order
her carriage, to the humble residence Of Mile.
Dalberg.
"Ceeile," said she, ''Monsieur de Varigny
and myself, as you know, love you as a sis
ter, we want you TO look upon us rs your
nearest relative and friends"
81 do"
"Allow US to make you happy"
"Happy-in what way ?"
''Why, my own Cecile, you are sensitive
and proud, we want to take the suffering of
poverty from YOU"
poverty is suffering" said Cecile, musing.
"Monsieur de Varigny and myself will
have deed of gift drawn insuring you one
hundred thousand francs; this makes you in
dependent; will you aecept?"
''Sister, viii, !" cried Cecile.
''Who knows but that you may find hus-
band now"
as that the condition?"
"Noi andyet, my own Cecile, there is a
condition"
A tgN-.n.o z.
"That you will promise me neyerto marry
one person"
"Who is that ?" T-qs
"Philip Fleury."
Cecile's pale cheek grew scarlet, but she
threw her head proudly back.
MADAME la marquise," said she, I" he has
not shown me the least inclination TO give me
a chance of refusing him. 1 cannot under
stand what you mean"
"Then set it down to caprice, but make
me the promise ask
"I do."
Some days after this Nine. de varigny was
sitting for her portrait, when Philip, looking
at her, exclaimed, " think l should paint
you, by rights, with glory around your
head"
Why?p rrg rfr esFCg
For your divine charity and goodness"
what do you mean ?"
"Cecile Dalberg has told me ALL"
Have you seen herr"
/ every day"
Nine. de Varigny was too much woman of
the world to show what she felt, but the ex-
preston of her face changed totally.
And the picture of the marquise was finish !
ed, and it held a conspicuous place in the ex- |
hibition, and Philip was extolIed above all |
other Partisan artists, whilst the MARQUIS. en- |
chanted, sent him check for ten thousand |
francs. Meanwhile, Philip had gone every |
evening of his life to the new and comfortable !
abode the generosity of the marouise had /
procured for Ceeile. In long discussions on |
the art and poetry, in listening to the music |
OF Cecile's voice and her admirable PLAYING.
time went by unheedcd. One evening the |
artist, as he rose to depart, took Cecile's |
hand, and for the first time pressed it to his |
lips. = ! =
" This time it is not du reUoir but fare we'll !; |
leave Paris for Italy tomorrow
" Mon deal" cried Nine. Dalberg, inS
amazement, whilst for an instant Cecile grew
Iyid, pressing her hand on her heart but in
an instant she recovered herself, growing |
stern and cold, and bidding the artist fare
well with a sort of reckless scorn on her lip |
that for an instant seemed to transfgure her.
Philip went slowly away from that house;
ne dreamed all night of Cecile; he felt I'M |
comfortable; but he was soon oct Of Paris in
he fill e anG |