Feliciana sentinel. [volume] (St. Francisville, La.) 1877-1892, 1879-12-13
deepening shadows, beneath
the archways of the dark ches-

the archways Of the dark ches-
nut trees.
Maurice went home dreaming
of the fair-haired child. He had
seen her often, and always look
ed at her, but with the eyes of
an artist. Now,it seemed to
him that he looked at her with
the eyes of a Jealous lover.
That night and the next day
seemed interninable to him ;
and long before. the appointed
hour he was in the glade.
He worked alone. apd Mbap
t.aasae%.already playing the CO.
quette-she was surprised.
''It is really myself!" said
she. eWiil you give it to me 2"
''No, I will make you alittle
one for yourself"
"And that one, what will you
do with it,"
cit will go. to Paris !; it will
be put in a large frame it will
be hung in a beautiful gallery,
and every one will come and
look at it,"
"Ah! yes, I know, in the ex-
hibition 2"
':Have you heard of the ex-
hibitionw
t'There are gentleman paint
ers here who work for the ex-
hibition, as they say, but they
never took my portrait.
Daylight was fading gently ly :;
Maurice found, as on the pre-
ceding evening, the exquisite
soft tints which had so charmed
him, and his work advanced a
hundred cubits towards pos
terity. .....
Hesaw heragain several times
beneath the checkered day
light Of his improvised studio,
and took pleasure in making
this work his best one. Already
celebrated, he had no need. to
make himself a name, and yet
he was sure that this picture
would put the seal to his re-
nown.
| By the time he was quite sat.
isfed with it winter had come
and Maurice loved his little
model. He loved her too mucl
to tell her so, too much to sully
this field flower whom he coult
not make his wife, but enough
to suffer at the thought ofleav
ing her. She had none of those
qualities which secure the hap
piness of life; neither thu
depth of feeling nor the devo
ton which causes us to forge
everything, nor the passion
which is an excuse for every
!, thing; she was a pretty fiel'
flower, little vain, a little co
quettish, with no great faults
7 nor yet great virtues. Manlc
, knew that she was not for him
!. and yet he loved the graceful
f lines of her figure, as yet scarce
| ly developed, and which he
home-spun gown chastely e1
| folded without Disgusting. II
loved the deep eyes, the laugh
ing mouth, the fair hair ths
e was always in disorder, the Ii
a tie handkerchief tied across ht
breast-he loved it all, and
e was with reluctance that 1
k went away. We always G
I away with reluctance when "
s have nothing to hope for on o.
return. 1t is so hard to lea'
?" behind bit of ones life
} which nothing is to remain.
He carried away his pictul
a however, and it was before tn
ba that trevi66e eWHer, his alwhayHs? h2H?SSSFfr fSSSFfreef af
v, a work which was already pt
l. feet. The picture was admire
J. The critics, who were unal
" nous in their enthusiasm, c
a ,clared that such faces could n
is exist excepting in the brain
a poet or in the imagination
y a painter. Maurice listene
<. smiling, and kept for hims
1, the secret Of the sweet face til
d had inspired him. He receiv
) brilliant offers for his pictur
never had so high price be
If offered for any of his work
r but he refused. and he refuse