Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1881-10-20


THAT Is finishing touch with q ven
geance," was his companions sarcastic
comment
"Ay-in more senses than one" he an.
swered quietly; his face had crown sud
denly cain and white; "finis to my work
and my hopes. 'AdieI-dreams, deiusions,
and yanities.'"
And without another glance at the de-
faced canvas, he took it from the easel, and
turned ii face to the wall.
The money-lender shrugged his should.
ers, and left the room.
"a hasty young fooll The best picture
he has painted yet He had no right to
cheat me Of it," he muttered, as he de.
scended the stairs
Still, he felt uncomfortable. Looms white
despairing face haunted him like a re-
proach. He wished he had not been quite
so hard with the lad, who, after all, had
done him good work, though he had fallen
into dreamy, dilatory ways of late. A
word of encouragement might have set
him right again. He tried to dismiss the
thought, but it clung to him all the rest of
the day, disturbing him with q vague re-
r2Orse.
That evening he left business earlier
than usual, reaching home before six
o'clock.
The lamp was not lighted in the sitting.
room, and Edmee sat at the open window,
looking out dreamily into the soft spring
dusk.
She turned toward him with a welcom-
ing smile as he entered, but did not speak,
and soon resumed her dreamy gaze into the
twilight.
There was something forlorn in the lone
ly little figure, dimly outlined against the
waning light.
He had felt vexed and disappointed the
night before, but his resentment all died
out at the sight of her.
He came to her side and laid his hand
lightly on her shoulder
dreaming, Edmees"
She took the hand, and pressed it to her
cheek with her favorite little caress
"No, have been thinking. Thinking
many thoughts, and some of them sad
ones"
"You have trouble that you will not
tell me-" he said, as he took his seat be-
side her.
~ am going to tell you now, Uncle
Jules; do not wish to have a secret from
you. Yesterday, when you asked me who
1t was | expected to hear from, we were not
alone, or l should have told you that-that
it was not school-friend, but some one
dcarer than a friend-dearer to me than
any one in the world, except yourself"
Except myself; are you sure there is
any exception" he questioned, with a
grave smile. "Well, well! And who is
this mysterious some one?"
{" He is an artist. When his mother was
living they were our neighbors at Fon-
tainebleau Afterwards he removed to
Paris, but he still taught at Madame Ver-
nier's, so that saw him often. My father
knew that we loved each other, but before
he died he made Leon promise that he
would not ask me to marry him while he
was still poor. He himself had known the
bitterness of poverty-my poor father! he
had seen my mother wasting away in"
Her voice faltered, and the tears rushed
to her eyes.
Her companion compressed his lips as il
in pain. Edmee did not know what a
pang of ,remorse her words sent through
. his hearts, There was a moments silence,
tlen he asked suddenly: "What did you
: say his name was-this artist?"
Leon Leclerc."
He pushed back his chair with an ex.
clamation.
"You know him?" she said quickly.
"Ah, can guess. He paints for Monsieur
Vautreau, does he not? and it was he
whom you heard singing my song. Have
you seen his pictures, Uncle Jules? are
they not beautiful? is there not brilliant
future before him?"
7 think ha ,,,o
chanically hardly conscious of what he
said. Leon Leclerc Edmee's lover! He
could not realize it.
"lf only he does not lose heart" she
went on; when heard from him month
ago he seemed depressed and anxious;
fear he had been working too hard. He
was busy with new picture, which he
hoped to finish in time to send to the Salon.
He promised to write again and tell me
how it was progressing, but ah! " she broke
off, leaning forward to look out of the
window, there is the postman coming to
the house. Perhaps he has letter for me-"
She left the room at once, and in very
few moments returned, breathless from her
hurried run downstairs, with bright
flushed face, and letter in her hand, which
she held up triumphantly.
cat last! | had presentiment that it
would come to-day"
She hastily lighted the lamp and sat
down at the table to read it. But before
she could open the envelope. her uncle rose
suddenly and laid his hand on hers.
Edmee--do not read that letter, or, at
least, let me see it first"
She looked UP at him in wonder
"Why may ! not read it, Uncle Jules? !?
Do you---"
II too have presentiment" he returned,
with forced smile; "I fear it may con
tain bad news. Come, now-if you will
give it me unread, will call upon Leon
tomorrow, and-and later, you shall see
him." .a
She flushed and paled, holding the letter
tightly folded in her hands.
"I can not" she whispered, II must
read it. IF he is in trouble"
He turned from her without another
word, and walked to the window, where
he stood with folded arms looking out into
the dusky street. Very shortly an exclama-
ton from Edmee made him look toward
her again.
She was very pale, all the brightness had
faded from her face.
"On, uncle Jules, you were right: this
is bad news indeed! He writes toto bid
me farewell. All his hopes are wrecked,
he says, and he is in some dreadful
trouble, but he does not explain-stay,
what is this?"
She glanced over the last page and read
aloud 81 once thought poverty the worst
of evils, but l know noT that man has
not tasted the drcgs of bittersess' till he
is in debt My first step toward ruin was
taken when crossed the threshold of-of
Vautreau, the usurer."
She looked up blankly at her companion.
"What does It mean? Surely that is not
not YOUR" f.a.