The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1875-09-09

crumbs and other birds came tamely flock
ing around him as he paused to cut a half
brown autumn rose. and to fasten il in her
hair. By such dainty device of pleasant inn
pediments did he daily with Clsir's sntici-
pations, delaying the moment which he, too,
longed for, which was to be the browning
happiness OF the dsy-the bringing his two
friends face 70 face.
Clair understood and humored him, in
hsr old indulgent way; lettering to praise
view, or his garden, which was fantastic
Of color and perfume, with its gay autu mn
flowers.
There are tastes and tastes" said Mark
fewer praise than blame IL. The geomet-
rical cast of mind demands lawn
mosaicked with study of angles, the pre-
cision recognizes beauty only in the straight
lines of Dutch garden, substituting order
for grace; while fashionable friend, who
once dritted this way, insisted, that, in
accordance with latest STYLE the colors
should be assortedi"
ut is at once delight aud regret to
me. who, in fancy, like you and Andrew
Marvel
"Have garden all my own,
But so with roses overgrown
And lilies, that you would II guess
10 be little wilderness!"
while, in reality, have only wire stand
in bay window, with prim row Of most
orderly flower pots"
searched the laden vines, rejecting number
less fair blossoms, until the one perfect rose
was found. Clair, who had watched him,
pleased TO RECOGNIZES the familiar ways she
had of old encouraged him in, getting
thereby the reputation among the less ia
vored of having "spoilt' him-Clair
laughed at him and prOpnesle6, with warn
ing torefnger uplilted.
MARK, in that over particular way of
yours, you will, one day, search the world
for your wife,
''Say on, Sibyl; shall find my perfect
rose of wOmanbood?' he asked; and bent
upon her look so questioning, so curious,
She only smiled and shook her head. as one
who had lost faith in miracles through
over. much worldly wisdom, for answer.
With gay, glad look upon his face, he
cut the rose, and carried it carefully in his
hand; she had thought he meant TO wear Il
in his buttonhole.
But moments we arc fain to prolong may
not be spun out like PenelOpe's intermin.
able web; they could not inger forever on
the terrace, among the artists birds and
flowers.
Enjoinlng silence with his hand, as their
steps brought them near an Oriel window,
Mark drew aside the purple curtain, and his
eyes invited Clair To enter. Expecting at
last to be ushered into the presence of Cecil.
she could but think that a grand flourish OF
trumpets would have been more cheerful
preparation than thus solemnly stealing a
march" on the friend to be-.
1t was the studio.
There stood his chair, pushed aside as he
had hastily left it at her signal, table with
the usual litter of brushes and color tubes.
the palette; an easel, supporting large can
vas, on which, in the gorgeous gloom of
sunlight streaming through the colored
window. arose lofty, gilded organ pipes be-
ri " Of orb
wood, and, with mist of golden hair that
fioated backward from the serene brow like
an aureole, a white-robed Saint Cecilia.
For an instant she hung breathless, hands
clasned over the altar piece. Then she
turned her eyes, full of reproach on Mark,
and said regretfully, $50, this is why am
here? To behold a masterpiece"
ITO behold a masterpieceW replied Mark,
losing her accents of regret in the
strain of organ music, that even as she spoke
slowly rose aud swelled, filing the room
with solemn sound.
Mark drew aside the easel, which. stand
ing there. had interposed the canvas as
screen bets Clair and ths long apart.
ment beyond. And yet-and yet-before
her the crimson violet light still streamed
athwart tbs organs massive frame and gild-
ed pipe, and before it the TRANSPORTED Cecilia
sat, white robed with a sanity glory OF mar
velous hair, but with eyes that no longer
with heaven, dowucast, now
the score, now following her slen-
der ingers in their wanderings over the
keys.
Mark went 10 her, bent over her; and the |
rapture in his touch, in his voice, was a rev.
elstion to Clair. as, fastening his rose on her !
bosom, he said:
"Cecil, it is for thee"
'But friend is more than a rose: have |
you not brought her, too, Mark? Ali"
Following the silent motion of his hand. |
II int Oh,
with q swift grace to where Clair stood |
stricken mute with surprise, took Marks |
friend in her arms, kissed her with soft, |
warm lips, looked deeply into her eyes, and, |
recognizing kindred spirit, received her |
with childlike joyousness.
"You are most welcome. l have waited /
long time far you-ever since / first knew /
Mark. Now I dome know how could have
been so patient"
Clair, with her rich expression of affec- !
ion, was wont to be rather severely critical
On the ways of women-their tricks of kiss
ing, their Eighty raptures, their exaggerated !
reminding ner of the oceans |
deep are mute" and creating suspicion |
hat shallow hearts. like shallow streams, /
oetrsy themselves ny their shallow bab- |
Dliis
So. at the simple grace of that welcome. |
her heart Ieaped gladly; their hands clssped |
aud lesped at the touch, and q soft flush |
gtOWeu on ner CHEEKS. a., IOOklCS 1nt0
Marks glad tace, she said:
81 am content"
And Cscil smiled wonderingly; uncon-
scious that her presence was, like lily in
the room, a strain of sweet music, happy
Dird-sOng, memory of natures blandest
moods, that she was to mark an inspiration;
that she would be nenceforth as the wine
Of life of Clair, who, until now, had sought,
finding out a woman with many lovers,
pining for the one possible friend.
Were 1 to tell you the whole story of the
dyllic days, the minutes of which were
Ike passing from one artist-thought to
another, in a gallery of paintings full |
Of graceful, slow surprises that never
,ook one ungracefully surprise
hat day of picturesque groupings, OF
busy idleness, brimful of bright fancies, of
,loudless effects, for the blue sky poured
Town its living gold as il Hebe were newly
allen, and the nectar OF the gods, spilled all
over the green earth, WAS q vintager of