The New Orleans daily Democrat. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1877-1880, 1879-05-18
unconsciously she put her hand up to her

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when at length her sitting was over and he
left her chair he was standing before inc
easel He turned to her and spoke hesltantiy.
:" Will YOU come and look at IT T. he asked.
She went and stood where he babe her and
looked. He watched her anxiously while she
did So For the first moment there was
amazement In her face, then some mysterious
red crept slowly over brow and cheek.
She turned upon him.
Monsieur!" she.crtei, passionately. You
mock me! 1t is bad picture"
He fell back pace, staring at her and sud-
denly trembling with the shock.
"A bad picturel." he echoed. II mock you
1T is my face" she said, pointing to it,
but you have made it what / am not 1t Is
the face OF good wOman-0f woman-whO
might be saint! Does not that mock meN'
He turned to 1t with troubled dreamy
look.
at is what have seen In your face he
said In soft, absent voice. 1T Is truth to
me. 1t Is what have seeD"
ut liz what no other has seen," she said. Il
tell you 1t mOcks me-
1T need not mock YOU" he answered. ~
eoult not have painted It II / had not felt 1t.
It Is y0urself-yourself.'
"MyselfY' she said "Do you think, Mon
sieur, that the men who have painted me be-
She gave 1t another glance and n shrill
laugh burst from her, but the next instant it
broke off and ended In another sound. She
fell upon her knees by the empty chair, her
open hands flung outward. her sobs strang-
ling her
He stood quite near her, looking down.
Il have not thought OF anything but my
work, he said. "Why should e"
The following Sunday night the artist
Mason met In going down stairs closely
yelled figure coming up. He knew 1t and
what, Natalle?" he said. 'You2 One
might fancy you had been at church.
II have been" she returned ID q cold voice
"to the church of the Americans In the Rue de
Berri." N
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Has 1t done you good?' he asked.
NO" she answered, and walked past him,
leaving him to look after her and think the
matter over.
She went to her own apartment and locked
herself in. Having done SO, she, lighted
every candle and lamp-fooding the place
with garish mockery OF brightness. She
sang as she did it-a gay, shrill air from some
opera bouffe She tore Of her dark veil and
wrapptngs. Her eyes and cheeks famed as
If touched by some lnholy fire. She moved
with feverish rapidity here and there-drag-
ging rich dress from q trunk. and jewels
and laees from their places OF safe keeping,
and began to attire herself In them. The
simple black robe she had worn to the chapel
lay on the floor. As she moved to and fro
she set her feet upon 1t again and again, and
as she felt it beneath her tread a harsh smile
touched her lips.
:" shall not wear you again." she stopped
her song once to say.
In half an hour she had made her toilette.
She stood before her glass blaze Of color and
jewels. For a moment she sang no more.
From one of the rooms below there foatedi
up to her sounds Of riotous merriment.
This Is myself she said; this is no
other
She opened her door and ran down the
staircase swiftly and lightly. The founder OF
the feast whose sounds she had heard, was a
foolish young fellow who adorad her madiy.
He was rich, and wicked, and simple. Be-
cause he had heard Of her return he had taken
an apartment In the house. She heard his
voice above the voices Of the rest.
In moment she had flung open the door OF
the salon and stood upon the Threshold.
Atsight Of her there arose q rapturous shout
of delight.
"Nataliel Nataiel WELCOMED"
But nstantaneously 1t died away One
second she stood there brilliant, smiling, de-
fiant. The next, they saw that mysterious
change had seized upon her She had become
deadly white and was waving them from her
with wild gesture.
Il am not comingf' she cried breathlessly.
"No! No! Nor
And the next instant they could only gaze
at each others Reconstruction faces, at the
place she had left vacant-for she was gone
She went up the stairs blindly and uncer-
tainly. When she reached the turn OF the
fourth floor, where the staircase was bare and
unlighted, she staggered and sank against
the balustrades, her face upturned.
II cannot go back she whispered to the
darkness and silence above "Do you hear?
| eannotl And 1t is you-you who restrain
MEL
her face when she went to the little studio
the next day as usual. When the artist
opened the door for her it struck him that
she was calm even to GOODNESS.
Instead of sitting down she went to the
easel and stood before it.
Monsieur" she said, II have discovered
where your mistake lies. You have tried to
paint what you fancied must once have ex-
listed, though 1t exists no longer. That is
your mistoke. 1t has never existed at all |
remember no youth, no childhood. Life began
for me as it will end. It was my fate that it
should. was born 10 the lowest quarter of
Paris. ] knew only poverty, brutality and
crime. My beauty simply raised me beyond
their power. Where should gain what you
have insisted on bestowing upon me?"
He simply stood still and looked at her.
God knowsr' he answered at length; II
do not"
"Godr she returned. with her bitter little
laugh. "Yes-Godw
Then she went to her place. and said no
more.
But the next Sunday she was at the Amer
lean chapel again, and the next, and the next
She could scarcely have told why herself
She did not believe the doctrines she heard
preached, and she did not expect to be con
verified to belief in them. Often, as the SER
vice proceeded, faint smile of derision
curved her lips; but from her seat in the OBJ
scure corner she had chosen she could see a
thin, dark face and STOPPING figure, and
could lean back against the wall with sense
OF repose.
eff iS uuiet here y WAS her Thought Zone
can bequiet, and that is much"
What is the matter with her?' the men
who knew her began to ask one another. But
it was not easy for them to discover how the
subtle change they saw had been wrought
They were used to her caprices and to occa-
sional fits OF sullenness, but they had never
seen her in Just such a mood as she was now
She would bear no jests from them, she
would not join in their gayetes. Sometimes
for days together she shut herself up in her
room and they did not see her at all.
The picture progressed but slowly. Some
times the artists hand SO trembled with
weakness that he could not proceed with his
work. More than once Natalie saw the brush
suddenly fall from his nerveless fingers. He
WAS vary weak n thpea dayG and tba cpot nf