The Portland daily press., 1879-03-15
THE PRESS.
A Queen of Spades.
n, W. HAzELTTNE.

while Clara-but let that go. was but
strappling, look you, graphing Latin syntax.
aud she just learning to make eyes and pratt
tie French, and, no doubt, the verb We con-
jugated in those languages described cal
low temperate yearning quite different to
peremptoIy passion for which you, madame
(who inspire it), have Saxon name.
But Bob-or Robin, as we liked to call
him, recognizing, in rude, unconscious way,
the sturdy honesty and simplicity of the lad
had laid hold of some college mates (he was
no general lover) with a grasp which alb
sence, possibly. and the slow alternative of
time, but nothing else, would loosen. Our
early friendship strike their rootlets deep,
aud good many years must pass, and some
rich, lcamy natures be parched to thin arid
soils, before the crop OF household interests
quite strange those hardy growths.
Well, was not there TO seize the old boys
hand, march him off to my own snuggery,an
laugh with him over the vernal days when he
daubed my class-book with nymphs and war
riors and revealed his dream of becoming
great painter. These diversions the young
artist lost, but he did not want for hospitali-
ty during the week he tarried in Manhattan.
vi course you come with us, Mr.. Lyon,
to Gramercy Park. / don't know how we
Shall requlte all you did for US in London
poor unprotected creatures that we were-and
on the voyage, too. You must not think of
Thus did Aunt Tyrrell prescribe the move
ments of my tractable friend, and though
Clara said not word, why should her eyes
brighten If she disapproved the suggestion?
1t is true that Robin meekly protested that
he ought to 60 to his people in the country,
but il was clear studio had first to be
chosen, and some preparation made for the
antumn's campaign, which he admitted
might require a day or two. You are
aware, however, that the selection of a studio
embracing grave qut stions of light, frontage,
secusion, and immunity from noise, not to
speak of the traditions and associations which
evolve an aesthetic atmosphere, is a business
not lightly dispatched. The ladies, too, were
sincerely anxious to attest their gratitude
Tor the patient guidance which had laid open
the art-treasures OF Britain, from Sir Richard
Waace's treasures even to those ur finished
masterpieces (yet sacred from the vulgar eye)
of embryo academcians, and were tain, by
way of quittaDce, to show their guests those
unrivaled collections which affluence and en-
lightened connoisseurship have accumulated
in this island. And it may be that one of
his companions in that edfying round could
60 back farther than those London days, and
recall long rambles in Florentine galleries,
when few plain, thoughtful words had pro-
voked wistful sympathy and quckened a
girlish mind to unaffected zest.
1t is scarcely possible to know less, in
worldly sense, of young gentleman, whom
one chance or another has repeatedly thrown
in your society, than the Tyrres knew OF
Mr.. Lyon. Concerning his outward circum-
stances and personal history, beyond the fact
that he was a classmate and friend of NINE,
those ladies were quite In the dark. Not
that Robin could lay any claim to that
austere discretion and nice reserve which
some circumspect but rather empty -pated fell
lows succeed in passing for the very finest
breeding. On the contrary, he would chat
most freely about his little triumphs and re-
verses, his diversions and private hobbies, and
conflde to you, on moderate encouragement,
the cherished dreams and wishes of his
heart. But then, these all happened to be
bound up with his vocation of painter, which
did, in truth, evoke what solicitude and fer
vor he had; and it no more occurred to this
eccentric youth to call the roll of his connec-
tions and acquaintance, or descent on do
mestic matters, and the doings of the people
at home, than it ocurrs to many lively persons
to talk OF anything else. You might as profit
ably applaud the sprouts of potato for feel
ing their way toward the sunshine, as try to
make Robin comprehend that his own earlier
struggles were otherwise commendable or
noteworthy,
His reticence did not offend Miss Tyrrell.
A capricious, fanciful, rather arbitrary young
woman was my cousin, who, / remember. at
with her wayward behavior, and was &C.
counted BY some juvenile admirers of quite
captious and sarcastic turn. And to this day
many ingenious gentlemen, whose sprightly
anecdotes find favor in drawing-rooms, do
not esteem Miss Tyrrel sympathetic.
Now an artless, headlong enthusiast, like
my friend Robin, would make, l should sup
pose, capital butt for female rallerv, yet,
strange to say, this variable damsel bore her
self very humby in his society, and. after
those Florence experiences before referred to,
would let him pour forth his quirks and theo-
ries (wild enough, dare say) for hours to-
gether. Or it might be, when a pause fell,
she would hazard some queer little notion of
her own, which Bob was sure to proclaim
vastly suggestive. will not quarrel, how
ever, because high-fown rhapsodist may
have preferred girls company TO my own,
for while have read Tame, and can impart
to my discourse, when l choose. very deli
cate aesthetic favor, trust graduate too
justly the claims OF life to dawdle away my
mornings in art-galleries, or climbing steep
hills, as Clara will, to see the sun pop out
some seconds earlier.
I would not deny that Bob's absorp-
tion in his art, and single-hearted devotion
to that mistress, is a very fine thing indeed,
and refreshing spectacle in these languid
times; but obviously it must isolate the artist
from the sympathies and pleasant commerce
OF his kind, and lead him into many gaucher-
les and some neglect of the social amenities.
Whether Robin had luckerly escaped those
untoWard consequences may appear from
some account OF an interview with Miss Tyr
rell which took place the evening before his
departure. Bear In mind that he was practi-
cally taking leave of the young lady, as it was
most unlikely she would see him in the
morning.
"And you mean to bury yourself in farm
house, the whole summer?' Miss Clara said
to Mr.. Lyon, having for once been persuaded
to discuss mundane topics. II give you
month; you're no Arab, after all. You'll
soon weary of those deserts. and we
shall welcome you back to civilized life. We
that is, mamma wants you to come to
Newport"
"You don't know my country" said hon
est Robin; 81 think no man leaves it willing
ly. You would love its rugged scenery, I
know that: There's nothing like it east of
the Sierra!"
This was the moment to ascertain the
precise state and country wherein the home
stead lay, but the damscps mind, perhaps,
was not dwelling on matters geographical.
81 might like it," she said obviously, 'tfor
week or two: but / should perish with no.
body to talk to. OF course there can be no
society''-this was put forward interroga-
tlveiy-"none that you would care for in
those wilds?"
"Only my own people," said Robin, gently.
"They are fond of me and of them"
"OP' she began, and stopped suddenly,
and flushing with regret and selfreproach.
suspect Miss Tyrrell, intent on a certain
vein of inquiry. had dropped unconsciously
that ungracious phrase. She tried another
tack.
my poor picture"-this was aportrait Mr..
Lyon had been commissioned to paint twill
you promise not to neglect it? Perhaps it
might better wait till autumn. Are you sure
yeu need no more sittings?"
"Qute sure," he said. SIT ought to be
finished in week. I'll touch nothing until
it is done, Miss Tyrrell, and then forward it
instantly"
Perhaps the covenant to cede so promptly
lady's likeness is not particularly fattering,
and probably you, accomplished reader,
would have given the speech a pretty turn.
but laundering Bob made matters worse. II
only hope Mrs. Tyrrell may like it," he went
on. 81 shall do my best, bnt portraiture is
rather out of my line. The fact is my hearts
not In it," And they began to talk of other