Litchfield enquirer., 1879-05-29
WHOLE NO. ,2764

-could scarcely remove her eyes from it. She was trying to calculate-with 8 weird fancy fancy in her mind--how long it would last, and whether it would die out suddenly or slowly. ....,.7 ......
 As she covered over it, if one of the men who admired her had entered he might well have scarcely known her. She was hollow eyed, haggard and pallId-for the time even her great beauty was gone. As he had left her that day, the doctor had said to himself discontentedly that after all these wonderful faces last but short time
 The fire caught at the coal, lighted ftful blazes among it, and crep over it in dull red, which frightened into hot scarlet.
 And the sick man lay sleeping, breathing faintly but lightly.
 ''It will last until dawn" she said, ,-"until dawn, and no longer"
 When the first cinder dropped with metal lie sound, she started violently and laid her hand upon her breast, but after that she scarce ly stirred. .
 The fitful blazes died down, the hot scarlet deepened to red again, the red grew dull, gray film of ashes showed itself upon it, and then came the first faint gray of dawn, and she sat with beating heart saving to herself.
 :'It will go out soon-suddenly. And the dying man was awake. speaking to her. "Come here" he said ill low, clear voice. s'Come here"
 She went to him and stood close by the bed side The moment of her supreme anguish had come But he showed no signs of pain or dread, only there was a little moisture upon his forehead and about his mouth. His eyes shone large and bright in the snowy palor of his face, and when he fixed them upon her she knew he would not move them away.
 'I am glad-that it is-fnished," he said ''lt did not tire me to work-as 1 thought 1t would. I am glad-that it is-fnished." | She fell upon her knees.
 ''That it is finished she said, Her smile grew grighter. ''The picture" he whispered-"the pict- | ure' AndNhen what she had waited for came. | There was moment of silence the wind out side hushed itself his lips parted, but no sound | came from them, not even a tluttering breath 1 his eyes were still fixed upon her face, open, | bright, smiling.
 II may speak now," she cried. 'I may | speak now-since you cannot hear. l love | you! I love you!"
 But there came to her ears only one sound the little grating shudder of the fire as it fell l together and was dead. The next morning when they heard that ''the American" had at last fulfilled their prophecies, the L0cGtGires showed spasmodic | warmth of interest. They offered their ser vices promptly, and said to each other that he | must have been good fellow, after all-that | it was pity they had not known him better. | They even protested that he should not be made an object of charity-that among them- selves they would do all that was necessary. | But it appeared that their help was not needed that there was in the background a friend who had done all but whom nobody knew. Hearing this they expressed their sympathy | by going up by twos and. threes to the little garret where there was now only icy coldness | and silence.
 Not a few among them were so far touched | by the pathos they found in this as to shed a tear or so-most of them were volatile young l Frenchmen who counted their Sensibilities among their luxuries. Toward evening there came two older than the rest, who had not been long in the house. When they entered a woman stood at the beds head-a woman in black drapery, with | pale and haggard face which they saw only | a moment.
 | As they approached she moved away and | going to the window stood there with her back toward them gazing out at the drifted l snow upon the roof. The men stood uncover | ed, looking down.
 ''It is the face of an Immortal" said the elder of the two 'It is such men who die young"
 And then they saw the easel in the shadow of the corner and went and turned it from the wall. When they saw the picture resting up- on it there was long silence. It was broken al last by the older man.
 ''It is some woman he has known and loved," he said, ''He has painted her soul and his own"
 The figure near them stirred-the wOman's hand crept up to the windows side and clung to the wooden frame.
 But she dld not turn, and was standing SO when the strangers moved away opened the door and passed, with heads still uncovered, down the dark rickety stairs. F A fiercer cold had never frozen Paris than held it ice and snow bound through this day and the next. When the next came to it's close all was over and the studios were quiet again-perhaps little quieter for few hours than was their won't
 Through this second day Natalie lived slowly; through the first part of the morning in which people went heavily up and down the stairs; through the later hours when she heard them whispering among themselves up- on the landings; though the hour when the footsteps that came down were heavier still, and slower and impeded with some burden they rested ta With this 6Grdeh M ap5h the aSdf outside her very door, and inside she orouched against the pannels-listening.
 Then it was all done, and upon those upper floors there was no creature but herself.
 She had lighted no fire and eaten nothing. She had neither food fuel, nor money. All was gone.
 1t is we'll" she said, ''that am not hun- gry, and that would rather be colder than warmer"
 She did not wish for warmth, even when night fell and brought more biting iciness. She sat by her window in the dark until the moon rose and though shudders shook her from head to foot, she made no effort to gain l warmth. She heard but few sounds from below, but she waited until all was still be- fore she left her place. But at midnight perfect silence had settled upon the house, and she got up and left her room, leaving the key unturned in the lock- gro morrow, or the day after, perhaps" she said, ''they will wish to go in" Then she went up the stairs for the last time.
 Since she had heard the heavy feet lum- bering with their burden past her doora singu- lar calm had settled upon her. It was not apathy so much as repose born ot the knowledge that there was nothing more to bear-no future to be feared
 But when she opened the door of the little room this calmness was for moment lost.
 It was so cold, so still, 80 bare in the moon light which streamed through the window and flooded It., There were left in it only two things-the narrow, vacant bed covered with it's white sheet, and the easel on which the picture rested, gazing out at her from the can- vass with serene, mysterious eye.
 She staggered forward and sank down be- fore it, uttering low, terrible cry.
 'Do not reproach me! !" she cried. "There is no longer need. Do you not see? This is my expiatien!" D."
 For while there was dead silence again. She crouched before the easel with bowed head and her face yelled upon her arms, mak- Ing no stir or sound But at length she rose again, numbly and stiffly. She stood up and glanced slowly about her-at the baroness, at the moonlight, at the narrow, whlte-draped bed. ' ..-. .gs s... s. s....5
 ''It will be-very cold" she whispered as she moved toward the door. 1t will be-very cold" @ @ 4s '.. -'
 And then the little room was empty, and the