Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1880-06-11

life search, but that the lesson taught
him should never be forgotten, and the
gaming tables should know him never
more.
Six years passed, and Harry Clayton was
winning name a. ID fame in his own land
in his profession as an artist.
Standing one night in a crowded assem-
bly, some one IN passing touched him light
ly on the shoulder with her fan. and glanc-
ing around, he met the smiling face OF his
hostess.
Come she said, II want to present
you to my belle! If you can prevail upon
her to give you sitting, and transfer her
face to canvass, you will render your
self immortal y
us she then so beautiful" he question
ed.
Judge for yourself " she lightly rejoin-
ed, leading him to little group doing hom-
age to the faiy girl in its center.
miss Rayburn--Mr. Clayton" were
the formal words of the introduction, as
Harold Clayton bowed in sacknoWledg
ment before the woman whom his artistic
eye confessed the most beau.ifulhe had ey-
or met.
Before the evening was ended he might
have added, the woman be had ever loved,
since she had awakened in him an interest
as new as it was strange.
Through the next week the face haunt
ed him. They met again and the charm
grew and deepened. He could not define
it. he scarcely acknowledged it to himself;
only away from Miss Rayburn he was
restless and uneasy, until he again found
himself thin the scope of her fascina-
tioH.
Yet her nature remained an enigma to
him. Although so young in years. so
beautiful in form and feature, she seemed
cold even to haughtiness, reticent almost
to scOrn.
: It was as though some exquisite marble
statue had risen in his pathway, which
might some day warm into life.
She welcomed him whenever they met in
manner which. while it gave him no
cause for complaint, yet chilled the hope
springing within his breast.
One day, on going to her home, the ser
want met him at the door with the an
nouncement that She was very ill. This
knowledge brought other knowledge the
fact he could no longer conceal from him
self that he loved her, and that on his
hope of winning her hung his life's happi-
ness.
He went back to his studio, wretched
and despairing, and seated himself at his
easel. He had not meant TO paint her face
his brain seemed unconscious of his fin
ger toil-yet, when the morning broke, it
was her features smiling upon him from
the canvass, and he remembered the hos
tess had uttered on the night he first had
met her-that thus should he render him
self immortal
He grew pale and wan in the DAYS of
anxious suspense, when those who watch
ed over her couch knew not which would
conquer, the angel of life or death. But
there came an hour, never to lie forgotten,
when he was admitted into her presence.
She was very white, very fragile, but
more beautiful than in the coloring of per-
feet health. A new expression too, was
in the violet eyes raised to welcome him.
II am very glad to meet you again, y
she said, gently. II hear you have been
anxious about me. You were very kind. y
Then the words be had not meant to
speak burst from his lips.
anxious! ~ he said. "Can a man, Miss
Rayburn, perishing with hunger, hear of
| the famine without shudder? l am
presumptous, you will say. 1t is true.
! What is my life with its. many sealed
pages in which your eyes could never look
that 1 should dare offer it to you. And
| yet, purified by your love, would try to
make it worthy. Tell me-answer me
If served as Jacob served for Rachel, is
there hope that may win you? My darl-
ing! my darling love you! 1 cannon
live my life without you! Will you not
share it ?"
Lower and lower dropped the lids, unit
the long, dark lashes swept the marble
cheek, while the sweet mouth trembled
but the momentary weakness passed as she
spoke:
Forget all Jnat you have said, Mr.
Clayton. 1t can never be-"
"Ycu do not love me 20 he questioned
sadly.
Again that swift expression of pain fit
ted across her lovely face.
II shall never marry" she answered
'sBut," and in her voice crept an almost
pleading tone, II need nay friends very
much, Mr. Clayton, do not desert me!''
IL cannot,' he replied. "To desert YOU
would be to desert the hope of one day
forcing you to unsay your cruel words
the hope which will go with me to my
grave"
What was the barrier between them!
This was the question ever ringing il
Harold Clayton 8 ear. AS she looked wher
she pronounced his doom, so he fancie(
she might have looked when the statue
warmed into life.
Since then she had been colder, more
distant than before; but he had caught The
momentary expression and transferred il
to the picture, on which his every leisure
moment was spent.
He was thus engrossed one morning
ever striving to add new beauty to his al
most perfect work, when low knock al
the door aroused him.
"Iome in!'' he called, and then bent
anew to his task, without SO much as rails
ing his head. until a low laughing voice
sounded beside him.
sWe were caught in the shower, Mr.
Clayton, and persuaded Margaret to seek
shelter with me here. I did not dream
she would find herself forestalled."