The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-02-07
NINA.

NlNAe
Victor Blumenthal was sauntering
through the public garden, thinking
sbout the picture he was painting,
thinking how the light among the trees
suggested certain strains of music to
him, when his eye fell upon young
girl feeding the swans, and fingered
there. elf could only carry that face
home in my minds eye, and reflect it
upon my canvasp' 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
1 thank you! what shall I do for youP"
she cried. 8" If you had not saved her
how could have lived? She is my lit
tie neighbor, and promised to be so
careful of her. o, though you are a
stranger, feel as if you were my best
friendr'
"Then oblige me by meeting me here
again, and telling me how our little
friend bears her drenching," he re-
turned, as he put them into a carriage,
Then he went to his studio and tried to
linn the face of Undine, 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" she confessed. "Jenny
brings her mothers thanks. How can
we repay you but with our prayers?"
''lf you could sit to me"
"IP You mean Jennyp"
"Imean yourself. If you could come
to my studio and let me paint you"
go, you are laughing at meT'
81 was never more serious in my
life."
"Let us 60, then" 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
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. l
tax you too long"
mo-" she replied; 81 was only
thinking that if l made my flowers Sc
slowly, l should starve."
Victor laughed softly. "Fame is bet
ter than money"
"And life is better than fame"
And then Victor threw down his
brush. "The sun is setting" he said;
"let us 60 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,
spires, and changed the windows OF
dingy warehouses on the wharves into
precious stones like those of Aladdin
palace! How much pleasanter all this
was than sitting at home, in dark
alley, over her artificial flowers, irving
to embody her fancies in satin and
velvet!
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
fower-maker. the last of her race. anC
Victor Blumenthal, the artist and mill
ionaire-and the picture grew apace
Somehow he dared not finish it. les
Nina should feel her debt paid, and es
cape him.
80, what IS that beautiful thingP'
she asked one day, as he trilled ia
miliar air while spreading his palette
"Did you make it up yourselfP'' -he
face all aglow.
&c 1t is an air from an OPERA" laughe,
Victor" from Irovdtore. The homo
of making it up belongs to one Verdi
Have you never heard an operaP"
"Never."
"Then you shall hear one tonight
Hold! IrOUGtore is on the bill for thi
blessed night. What coincidence!'
And so, when the city lamps were try
ing to Guido the stars, Victor drey
Nina's trembling hand within his arm
and they became part of the gay an
fashionable world inside the theatel
And what world it was. with all tn
glitter of lights and beautiful faces, tn
Simmer of silk and jewels, the odor G
musk and sandal wood, and the kind
handsome face of Victor Blumenths
shining upon her! How the tenor san
out, sweet as syllables of love! how tn