The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1878-04-13


"Get out, you purse proud old humbug'
said my friend, laughing, as he clapped nj
on the shoulder. 'sBut there, am oblig 4
to you. Have him down and I'll thank
you. He's gentleman and a man o.
honor.
"0h, I'm afraid he'll steal the spoons,
| said, laughing.
mo, he said, dryly, 'no fear of that
But you'll make a good picture"
STUFF r | said "Do you think I'm
going TO be painted ?"
"Why what are you going to do them
he said in an astonished way.
''Let him paint little Cobweb,' | said
chuckling and rubbing my hands
Ny friend gave long whistle, and
after few words he left.
Ii did not strike me then, but remark.
ed afterwards that he seemed disposed tC
draw back from his proposal; but | was
now so wrapped up in my plans that ]
could think Of nothing but the picture in
the wood, aud / went home full of it
meaning it for a surprise.
Two days later one of tie servants an.
nounced Mr.. Grantly on business, and
on his being shown in found myself face
TO face with a handsome grave looking
man of about 80. He was rather shabbi-
ly dressed, and looked pale and i'll, as he
bowed to Cobweb and myself, ending BY
staring at my child, as l thought in q
rather peculiar way.
This annoyed me-a stout, eholoric. ell
derly man-for no one had right to look
at my Cobweb but me; and | spoke rather
testify as / said
"NOw, sir, when you please, am al
your service
Il beg your pardon, he said, 10 low
musical voice. "Miss Burrows, | presume
One moment, please-don't move"
Cobweb was sitting in the bay window
and to my utter astonishment he quickly
drew one of the curtains, and then hall
closed another SO that the light fell strong
ly on her hair
could not speak for the passion bub-
bling up in my throat, and as Istood gasp
ing, he came and took my arm and led me
aside, and then pointing to where Cobweb
sat, as astOnished as myself, he said
"That would be admirable, sir. We
could not improve that natural pose"
"What the dickens Are you mad,
sir? What do you mean n
Il beg your pardon" he said, flushing
and speaking hastily. II am so wrapped
up in my art | thought you understood
Dir. Eden said you wished me to paint
this young lady's portrait. Am I mis-
taken ?"
"Chut!" | CALCULATED, cooling on the in.
stant. II beg your pardon. Sit down,
sir. You're hungry, of course. How
stupid of me,-Cobweb, my dear, order
some lunch into the dining room.
he smiled, returned the pressure of my
hand in a frank, honest way that l did
not ike; for this is not what meant, and
my jealousy was aroused | expected
some snufy-looking old painter, not grave
handsome young fellow. But remember
Tom Elden's words-"He is a gentleman
and man of homo" and casting away
my suspicious thoughts, entered into the
subject at once.
I'D half forgotten it, / said. "She'll
make good picture, eh p
Admirable, sir. That position struck
me ut once as | entered"
''I'll show you better one than that,
my boy" | chuckled "But I'm a bust.
ness man, what's your fgure-the price,
eh?"
He hesitated, and his hand trembled as
he said:
"Would-ffteen guineas be too much?''
'Fifteenr' / said.
IL should take great pains with it-it
would be long task" he said eagerly;
and there was trouble in she wrinkles on
his forehead. "But if you think it too
much"
II think it an absurd price, SIR | said,
testify, for Eden had said he was very
poor. "Why, Mr. Elden gave four hun
dred for bit of scrap artist"
"By very clever artist, sir" he said,
with grave smile.
"Look here" l said, "Mr.-Mr. Grant
ly. You make good picture of it and
I'll give you fifty guineas"
/ He flushed, and looked panied.
LESS than half would pay me well, sir,
he said.
'Tut, tut stuff man. Elden told me
you were poor and hard up. You always
will be if you are not more of a man of
business"
"Sir !" he exclaimed, rising and look
ing at me angrily, II came here expecting
the treatment"
He stopped short, reeled, sank into his
chair, covering his face with his hands,
and sobbed like child.
"My dear sir-I-really Il didn't
mean" | stammered, perspiring at every
pore, for the position was most painful.
''NO," he said hastily, / beg your par
don. "But-but," he continued, striving
manfully to master his emotion, II have
been very i'll, sir, and | am weak. have
been unfortunate-almost starving at
times. have not broken bread since
yesterday morning. could not without
selling my colors, II am much obliged
forgive me-let me 20 back to town.
Oh, my God, has it come to this ?"
He sank back half fainting, but started
as | roared out, $50 away" for Cobweb
was coming into the room
"Thank you" he said, taking my hand
as he saw what had done at was kind
of you.
My dear fellow" I said, "this is terri
BILE" and | mopped my face. "There, sit
still-back directly"
ran out to find Cobweb in the hall.
"Oh, you dear good father y she cried
with tears in her eyes, "Ebat a kind sur
prise But is anything wrong"
"Artist little faint" / said. "Here.
the sherry-biseuits Stop away Bit"
l ran back with them, and made hin
take some wine; and, thus revived, he rose
and thanked me.
"M hat are you going to do?" said
staring
"I'm going back to town, sir, he said
quietly, but with lower lip trembling. a
am not fl to undertake the task. / thank
you, but it is too late | am not well.
| looked at him as a business man, anC
in that brief glance. rs in a revelation,
saw the struggles of a poor. proud man Of
genius, who could not battle with Tho
world. saw the man who had sold, BIZ
I L. l. "a l. 1