Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1883-07-26
The Sturw Teller.
PEN ELOPE.
PART I
BY MARY SEYMOUR.

..a PART /.
There is, or was-fOr in those days o.
change it is dangerous to make oneself re-
sponsible for the stability of anything-a
row of tall houses somewhat south of Ken
sington Road. The ground-hoor was built
for shops, and seemed to fulfill its destiny,
but the inhabitants for the second, third
and fourth floors were slow to arrive, al
though the top story, consisting OF TWO
rooms afforded an extensive view OF ROOF
and chimney-po to the north, and OF the
distant Surry hills to the south.
Intending tenants seldom revelled in the
delight offered to them. Flight after flight
of uncarpeted wooden staircase frightened
them away from the Elysium they might
attain, and few indeed were those active
and hopeful enough to reach the top. The
interest and pleasure of the row may there
fore be imagined when the two rooms on
the fourth story Of Number Three were
really taken and occupied.
The excitement reached its climax when
the tenants were seen to be ladies, and
guessed to be artists. Mr.. Bradley, the
spruce statiOner on the grOund-hoor, was
most pressing in his offers of assistance,
and Edward, the ofice-boy, invented mes
sages of the most openly impossible char
acter in order to obtain some sight OF the
glories of upstairs. -.
He would arrive opportunely. with half a
torn newspaper or dusty unaddressed en-
velope, (which evidently belonged to the
ladies'" Just as some specially tempting
package was carried upstairs, and he con-
sidered himself privileged mortal if al
lowed to assist at the unpacking of some
of the pictures and busts, which found in
him an admiring if not highly critical, OBJ
server. He advised as to the arrangement
of peacock's feathers over the velvet hung
mantelpiece, and toiled up and down will
lingly with Goals or other uninteresting OBJ
iects, making himself generally useful and
civil, without, be it said, much hope OF re-
ceiving many shillings in return, for shll-
lings were scarce with the two girls who
were making their first start in life. But
if shillings were scarce, smiles were plentl-
furnished or arranged amid such peals of
laughter as echoed through the two carpet
less apartments.
1t was when the two rooms were ready,
one for work and the other for play, that
the occasion was celebrated by a big after
noon tea party, at which large and non
descript party assembled-many students
from the neighboring school of art, few
stately ladies who represented either per-
sonally or vicariously possible pupils, and
small sprinkling of men; most OF them
kindly, eager, and critical and entlrely
bored.
Mr.. Thomas Brown was in the latter cat
egory. His sister had brought him, and
was now drinking tea with the others In
the pretty back room where there was no
space for him, and he stood in the work
room, looking in a melancholy way at
picture on an easel, and trying to conceal
his devouring anxiety to escape from the
atmosphere of art-criticism.
"Now what do you think OF that arm:'
said voice at his side; somehow there
was an anxiety in the tone which surprised
him; had any human being ever asked his
opinion upon point of art before? "Is
the attitude constrained or no"'
He looked at the picture, at the straight
white-robed figure upon the canvas, at the
calm impassive face, at the dropping arms
which held a bunch of faded daffodils, at
the cold, uncertain background, and then
turned to the speaker:
II am afraid" he said honestly, II know
nothing of drawing, and 1 don't understand
this
'It is only a study, of course; I should
not dare to give name to all of them,
but" with quick glance which seemed at
once to recognize him as in no way dan
gerous critic, Gin my own mind mean 1T
it from the faded daffodils. "She gathers
al things mortal with immortal hands"
Those lines were running in my head an
the time / was painting. But am afraid
that arm Is little too stiff.
She looked at the figure with regretful
eyes, and Mr.. Brown took advantage of her
preoccupation to transfer hisattention from
the canvas to herself. He liked her de-
cidedly better than her picture; she was
a tall girl with rough curly brown hair, and
a pair of rosy cheeks which paint would
have found it difficult to reproduce on can
vas or human skin. She was nice to look at
and different from other girls, Tom thought,
although there were hundreds of pretty
women in London curiously like her, even
to her grey green frock and strings Of am
ber beads, and the bunch of daffodils at her
throat.
'Do you know" she said, turning round
and looking up at him with smile sup
pressed on her lips, but cleaning in her
eyes, "I suspect you have been horribly
bored this afternoon? You don't care for
pictures, and no one has talked of anything
else. | am so sorry, but what can 1 do to
amuse you? If you will only tell me what
you do like, l will try to be sympathetic"
No man likes to find himself set on one
side by young and pretty woman, as una
BILE to share in that which interests and de-
lights her, unless indeed he can only con-
fess his ignorance as u proof OF smiling
superiority. Tom was too conscious of his
own dement's to do this>so he humbly said
that all he asked for was instruction in the
art, and perhaps she would kindly show
him some more pictures and complete his
education.
The young lady was a person of tact, and
in the works showed him dWelt but little ON
idea or execution, amusing him rather by
pointing out the various appearances OF a
table-cIoth, the original of which hung upon
the wall, or to the tapestried hangings OF
a lady's bower, the carpet of presence
chamber, and the covering of adying knight.
Encouraged by finding that art has its lu-
dicrous side, he launched into friendly criti-
cism, and ruined himself in the eyes of his
companion, by going into ecstacieS over the
''real appearance" of a flower pot in the
sketch She showed him of some quaint old
houses in Chester.
"It looks so real! Just exactly the red
you so often see," he went on, unconscious
of his companions growing sense of the
gulf between them. 81 can't think how
you manage it,"
The artist hurriedly removed the work
and substituted something else; a red sky all
aglow with color, and a foreground of dark
houses with two or three tall ladders against
the crimson.
"Oh, like that" cried the young man,
ingeniously speaking from his heart; cit re-
dc Of Nanipa -