The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1880-02-05

/ Inc sweet ChllQ-fAces gone DcfOre,
| All! blessed Heaven, but once, once more.
| My house and home are very still
watch the sun. 1 watch the rain.
The winter days come white and chill,
And year, 60 on. -. Perhaps death will
-Aory Aia0e DeUers.
NINA.
Victor Blumenthal was sauntering
through the public garden. thinking
about the picture he was painting,
thinking how the light among the trees
suggested certain strains Of music to
him, when his eye fell upon q young
girl feeding the swans. and fingered
there. "H could only carry that face
home in my minds eye, and reflect it
upon my canvasr' he thought. "She
is the very image Of Undine herself.''
just then the child beside her reached
across the brim of the basin to toss a
crumb into the water and lost her bal
ance. Quick as thought Victor sprang
to the rescue, brought the child up
dripping, and confronted Undine, out
of whose face all the rose had faded. all
the sunshine had fed. 90, how shall
thank you! what shall / do for youp"
| 6u0 CII6us ~ NOu uao uOb S0NCo hOk
how could have livedp She is my lit
tie neighbor. and promised to be so
careful of her. 0, though you are a
stranger, I feel as if you were my best
friendr'
"Then obligs me by meeting me here
again, and telling me how our little
friend bears her drenching," he re-
turned, as he put them into q carriage,
Then he went to his studio and tried to
linn the face of Undina, and threw
down his brush in despair. And the
next day, happening into the public
garden again, there she was before him,
smiling and blushing, with the child
beside her.
81 thought perhaps we should meet
you here's she confessed. "Jenny
brings her mothers thanks. How can
we repay you but with our prayersr
"lf you could sit to me-"
"I? You mean JennyP"
al Imean yourself. If you could come
to my studio and let me paint you"
30, yeu are laughing at mer'
life."
"Let us 60, them" she said.
.'Your picture is long in finishing"
she remarked one day, after innumer-
able sittings; for Victor had every night
wiped out what he had laboriously
painted in during the day, SO difficult
was it to imprison the shadow of his
model within the canvas, to lend to
Undine the soul that sat and smiled in
Nina's eyes, to endow her with the
spirit that informed the face, flushed
in the oval cheek, or trembled about
the mobile mouth.
"You are tired of coming to me. I
tax you too long"
mo-" she replied; 81 was only
thinking that if made my flowers so
slowly, 1 should starve." f-.r
Victor laughed softly. "Fame is bet
ter than money"
"And life is better than fame"
And then Victor threw down his
brush. "The sun il setting" he said; /;
"let us go out upon the bay for inspi-
ration"
And Nina followed, nothing loath.
How cool and sweet the hour was out
there, with sails blowing out like wings
of white gulls in the offing, and pleas
ure-boats lettering or speeding by!
How gayly the sun smote the city's
spires, and changed the windows of
dingy warehouses on the wharves into
precious stones like those of Aladdin's 8
palace! How much pleasanter all this
was than sitting at home, in q dark
alley, over her artificial flowers, trying
to embody her fancies in satin and
velvetl
Victor walked to the dark alley in
the dusk with Nina, and thought of the
white lilies that grew into perfect beau
ty and sweetness, though rooted in
mould and slime. -
So the friendship grew between Vic
tor and Nina-Nina, the poor little
flower.maker. the last Of her race, and
Victor Blunenthal, the artist and mill
ionaire-and the picture grew apace.
Somehow he dared not finish it, lest
Nina should feel her debt paid, and es-
cape him.
90, what is that beautiful thin0pr'
she asked one day, as he trilled a ia
miliar air while spreading his palette
ibid you make it up yourself?"-her
face all aglow.
cit is an air from an opera" :" laughed
Victor-"from IToUatore. The honor
Of making it up belongs to one Verdi.
Have you never heard an operaP'
Never"
"Then you shall hear one tonight
Hold! Irouators is on the bill for this
blessed night. What coincidenceT
And SO, when the city lamps were try
ing to outdo the stars, Victor drew
Nina's trembling hand within his arm,
and they became part of the gay and
fashionable world inside the theater.
And what q world it was, with all the
glitter of lights and beautiful faces, the
simmer of silk and jewels, the odor of
musk and sandal wood. and the kind,
handsome face of Victor Blumenthal
shining upon her! How the tenor sang
out, sweet as syllables of love! how the
soprano scared! what depths the bass
explored! what pathos, what sorrow,
what delight swelled and ebbed with
the chords! Did people really love and
suffer and despair and triumph like
this? Had she lived through it all her.
self, somewhere, somehow, that it
seemed an echo of her own experience;
or was it but shadow of things to
come? When the curtain fell, Victor
discovered tears in her eyes. Other
people were laughing around her; one
tall gentleman almost stopped to look
under her hat as he passed, bowed to
her companion, and would have joined
them had Blumenthal been less frigid.
"I have seen that gentleman before, {"
said Nina; "he came with lady who
was in hurry for some flowers I had
promised. He called her Stella"
"It was his cousin, Stella Grande-
law" said Victor.
One day Victor. who could ne longer
And n vroeoYt er, oontipno ho aitf;p0s