The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1880-02-04
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 young
girl feeding the swans. and fingered
there. "If could only carry that face
home in my minds eye; and reflect it
upon my canvasm 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 crumb
into the water and lost her balance.
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 sun
shine Lad fed. "Oh, how shall thank
yout what shall I do for you" she
cried. "If you had not saved her, how
could have lived? She is my little
neighbor, and promised to be so care
full of her. Oh, though you are str2n-
ger. I feel as if you were my best
friend!"
Then oblige me by meeting me here
again. and telling me how our little
friend bears her drenching," he returned,
as he put them into 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.
II thought perhaps we should meet
you here,H she confessed: Jenny
brings her mothers thanks. How can
we repay you but with our prayers7"
"If you could sit to me"
"Ia2 You mean jenny"
"Imean yourself. If you could come
to my studio andllet me paint you
"Oh, you are laughing at me-"
was never more serious in my
life." ~ .-:sr. ~ :,
"J.etus 90, then,n 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 duringxhe day, so difficult
was it to imprison the shadow of his
model within the canvas, to lend to Un-
dine the soul that sat aLd smiled in
Nina's eyes, to endow her with the spirit
that informed the face. flushed in the
oval cheek, or trembling about the mo-
bile mouth. .-~ ..,-...
"You are tired of coming to me. I
tax you too long"
mo. shereplied; ! was only think
ing that if I made my flowers so slowly,
I should starve."
Victor laughed softly. Fame is bet
ter than money"
And life is better any fame"
And then Victor threw down his
brush. "The sun il setting" he said !;
"let us go out upon the baylor inspec-
ton"
And Nina followed, nothing loath.
there, with sails blowing out like wings
of White gulls in the ofing, and
pleasure 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
palace! How much pleasanter all this
was than sitting at home, in dark alley,
over the artificial flowers, trying to en-
body 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
beauty and sweetness. though rooted in
mould and slime. ,. -
So the friendship grew between Victor
and Nina-Nina, the poor little flower
maker, the last Of her race. and Victor
Blumenthal, the artist and MILL ionaire
and the picture grew apace. Some
how he dared not finish it, lest Nina
should feel her debt paid, and escape
him. ...- ..
"Oh, what is that beautiful thing9"
e ar w6e GhI aa sDresdnn as G eSs bs naete in
Did you make it up yourself?"-her
face all agiow.
1t is an air from an OPERA" laughed
Victor-"tro,n Trovatore. The honor
of making it up belongs to one Verdi.
II. We you never heard an opera?"
Never"