The Morristown gazette. [volume] (Morristown, Tenn.) 1867-1920, 1881-06-15

lsometh1ng IN her race winch, when once
seen, remains forever craven upon the MEM
/ DRY of the beholder.
She was very pale-so pale that, in the
dim light of the October afternoon, her face
| seemed cOlorless as that of n marble statue.
Her eyes were black-of that profound
black which has light in its depths-eyes
| which had something strange In their as
pect, and which reminded those who looked
into them of an open grave-a fathomless
abyss.
These dark eyes, looking out of colorless
face, had something mysterious in their
gaze, and in the days of wItchcraft would
have struck terror to the hearts Of the ignO-
| rant.
The artist did not see the earnest gaze
fixed upon him. He never raised his eyes
from the miniature. Now and then he
| sighed heavily as he paused for a moment
from his labor. He seemed wrapt in some
mournful dream, and utterly unconscious of
| all that was passing around him.
At last the young girl addressed him.
"Clarence," she said, why do you work
so hardl"
He laughed bitterly, but did not raise his
head
because love my art, he answered,
''and love little else"
''Is that so, CIarence?" said the girl with
an earnestness which was not unmixed with
scorn. els that SOP she repeated, pointing
to q pile of unfinished paintings leaning
against the wall of the studio. "If it is your
art which you love- why are your great pic
TIRES all cast aside, neglected, forgotten, for
the portrait of a woman of fashion-for it Is
O portrait which you have there, is it not2"
A dark and angry expression obseured the
face of the artist as he answered this ques-
ton.
at is" he said, still bending over the
easel, and never once looking at his ques-
toner.
''The portrait of Miss Ovington?"
'"The portrait of Miss Maud Ovington, ="
answered the artist, in a tone Of defiance.
The girl laughed harsh and hooking
laugh, which had nothing wOmanly in its
tone.
cit will be a charming ornament for the
ladys boudoir," she said; ''and she will,
doubtless, value it as much as"
She paused, looking with a malicious, an
almost demoniac smile at the artist, who had
now raised his head from the easel
The eyes of the two met.
"As much as what?" he asked.
Gas much as she values the heart of the
artist when il is cast beneath her feet. Nay,
more, for when she is tired of the picture
she will only throw it aside, or give it to her
waiting maid. She will not trample upon
it; she has trampled upon the artists heart "
The young man rose from his seat with an
exclamation of rage then, restraining him
! self by powerful effort, he sank again into
his chair, and, clasping his hands before his
face, wept aloud
''Clarice! cousin Claricew he exclaimed,
when the storm of grief had passed, ''you
are my fathers brothers only daughter-you
are my sole surviving female relative, and
have loved you as a sister. Why-why,
then, do you torture me thus? You have
discovered my secret; you know that have
loved-that do love Maud OVington-deep-
ly, devotedly-wildly, foohshly, if you will.
You know also that am loved In return.
81 do not know that" interposed the girl,
coldly.
''You do not know? MercifuI Heaven! If
there is truth in woman, am loved, and
loved as truly as my devotion deserves.
Why, then, do you torture me, ClariceP
Because despise you, cOusin!'
'sDespise meP exclaimed the young man.
ayes, Clarence Suydam, l despise you.
have something of my mothers blood in
my veins. came of a prouder family than
yours, as you well know, and / despise the
man who loves, as weakly as you do, this
blue-eyed coquetteI'
"Coquette, Clarice?"
''Aye! and so finished coqUette that she
has power to blind and delude you, as she
would child, with the promise of a play
thing. Love, cousin! Bah! Maud Owing
ton knows not the meaning of the word.
Power, pomp, wealth, admiration-these are
the things that she loves. but not you, Clar-
ence Suydamr'
'It is false, Clarice!" exclaimed the artist
"Were you a man, L would wiring the lie from
your throatr'
You think that she will marry your
said Clarice, with mocking smile-':that
she will descend from her thrOne-that she
will abandon her place as the lovely queen
of fashion, to become the wife of struggling
artist?"
81 dor cried Clarence Suydam. 'True /
am poor, unknown, unnOticed; but what of
that? BEST by her love, 1 shall have power
to fight life's mighty battle. For her sake,
how gladly will l labori Trust me, cousin,
the world shall hear of the husband of Maud
Ovington, and art and beauty shall go hand
in hand. All, Clarice, it is you who know
not how to lover
The girl recoiIed with brief shudder as
her cousin uttered these words.
'fYou are doubtless right, she said, slowly
and with strange emphasis. at is l who
know not how to love"
"Clarice," exclaimed the young man, after
a pause, ''give me some proof of what you
say-give me proof of the falsehood Of her ]
love-"
The girl rose from her chair and walked a
few PAGES toward table on the other side OF |
the room-a table covered with books and
papers.
''Shall II" she said, pausing midway be-
tween her chair and this table, and looking
earnestly at her cousin.
''Yes-yesp'
''But you will hate me ever afterward- as
we hate those who destroy our brightest ard
most cherished dreams.
'No Clarice; prove to me that she is false
and shall hate myself for my mad folly.
"And you will be cured?'
'FYes-foreyer!"
rCoS-Tr,yrv0