The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1880-03-11

phere around him which envclops the
confidently rich man.. Bee liked his sp.
pearanoe and was rather pleased to oh.
serve that he glanced around the room
before leaving it; she was sure that he
was locking for her. /:
There waA no more now to be said Of
Cllfords nd PES, and no moro advice to
be given to Bee; Lepel forgot everything
IN his qualification at Mr.. 'Belmar's visit
md the orders he had given him. These
orders really required some supervision,
but hardly as much 40 that gentleman
gave them. In few weeks he was a
} very regular visitor at Lepel's studio. He
said he enjoyed these visits, and it Is prob
!: able he did. Bees costumes and charac-
ters, her sunny good-temper, her queer
criticisms on players, politicians, artists,
and the world in general, made it con-
stantly changing entertainment.
If Bee suspected that she had interest
cd Mr.. Belmar--which it is likely she
discovered at onco-Lepel certainly ncv-
er did. He considered his patron as a
genuine lover of art, and peculiar ad-
mirer of his own peculiar style and col
oring. That he should admire Bees kit
ten-likc movements, and applaud all her
clever, keen little cl,igrams, was natural
enough; he did that himself, and every
body else did it.
Thus the winter passed pleasantly and
profitably away. Bee had saved a little
money, and was taking singing lessons.
"If she was to have career" she said,
spitefully, to Iepel, lit should not be with
any Montana" So now in her intervals
of rest she sang scales and astonishing
exercises; she SAID the lofty rooms suited
her, and they objected to her practice in
the boarding house. Lepel had no OBJ
jections to her rich musical intervals; be-
sides, it gave him occasionally the pleas
ure of saying, ''That is false note,
Bee."
It was again June, and Lepcl had put
the fnishing touches to Mr.. Bclmar's
last picture. He met that gentleman
one warm afternoon IN Union Square, and
told him so. Then they turned toward
the studio, and went up to look at it. It
was an Italian scene, and Bee, dressed as
Tuscan peasant, with a basket of grapes
on her left shoulder, was the only fig
IRE.
"She Is a beautiful girl,' said Mr.. Bel
mar, thoughtfully, ''Eithcr as Princess
Bee or Peasant Bee she is perfect. By
the.bv. what is her nance:
"Her name," said Lcpel, coldly, "is
Beatrice Erling."
"Erling? Erlir4' Not Tom Erllng's
daughtcr?'
"Tom Erling's daughter. Did you know
Tom2"
1--WE were brought up in the same Con-
nccticut village, and went to the same
district school. Tom beat me in all the
classes, and whipped him out of them.
Then he fell in love with my sistcr-in
| short, there was quarrel, and Tom came
to New York. He must be poor, to let
his daughter
"He is dead. His wife was an Italian
singer who died soon after Bees birth.
The poor child has no relatlves.''
II will tell my sister about her. She
is an invalid now, with very few pleas
| ,tfes or interests. I anu sure she will be
glad to befriend Tom Erling's daughter"
In this way it came to pass that Bee
was soon constantly visiting at Miss Bel
mars pretty cottage on the Hudson, and
that whenever she was there, Miss Bel
mars brother also found it convenient to
come out with a few new books, or some
early fruit. Indeed, the maiden lady,
almost confined to her house, had given
her heart very readily to this bright,
pretty child of the only man she had
ever loved. She could bcfriend Bee, and
do something for her; and this in itself
was great pleasure to the poor invalid,
SO long the recipient and not the givcr
of Kindness.
So when in early July Lcpcl shut his
studio and went away for four months,
Bees small personal effects were removed
to Miss Belmar's, and she spent the sum-
mer there. And it was amusing to sec
what easily detected little plots and
plans this lady laid IN order to bring
| about marriage that,had already been
determined upon.
| Bee had never been so happy IN all her
life; the sweetness and GOODNESS and re-
pose, tho tender love and ceaseless at
tentions, the riding and boating and
moonlight strolls, made tho time pass
like an enchanted dream. MIR. Belmar
watched her constantly, but found moth
! ing in which it was necessary to direct
or advise her, for with that wonderful
adaptive tact inherent in American wo-
men she caught not only the habit but
| the tone of tho circumstances surround
ing her, and made them part of herself.
Early in November she went one
morning into the city and climbed again
the familiar stairway leading to Lepel's
studio. He had resumed work, and met
her with pctulent complaint: "Wherc
on earth have you been, Beet have writ
ten three times fcr you"
She did not answer Immediately; but
sitting down before the fire and putting
her feet on the fender in her old way, she
turned her head and looked rather sadly
down the long room. "Lepcl, what
charm is there in this life, wonder?
Who has ever lived in Bohemia that ever
left it without sigh?''
"Yeu don't mean to say that you are
leaving it?'
sYes l came TO say farewell" I shall
never make money or make merry in this
dear old room again. am going to be
| married.
''To Clifords''
"What an idea! No, Sir, to Mr.. Belmar.
shall order pictures of you now, Lepcl,
"A'>A P~uo yOu uAVdNAUAly.
Don't pull my prices down, Bee.
That is all I ask"
"But that is exactly what I shall do.
Mr.. Belmar will have great many ex-
penses with me. shall not let him buy
any more pictures.''
She spoke in her old saucy way, bal
ancing her muff first in one hand and then
on the other: but in spite of her testing
way, Lepel saw that she was in earnest
about her marriage. He said few low
words IF congratulation, and went busily
on with his work. Bee felt instantly So
bered. Was he angry with herr Was he
jealous of her good fortune, or sclfishly
sorry to lose so good model7 If Bee
had believed in any of these things, her
tongue would have avenged her, but
some look on the grave, sorrowtul face
made her remember the moment when
she had seen Loves confession trembling