The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1883-10-05
CARRAD1NE's LOVE.

co 0red ike pOmegranate. While she
sill gazsd, nurse had come forward and
closed. and he saw tho little creature no more
Such was the vision that the artist hal carried
e long in his memory; in his memory only,
for he had no second glimpse Of the child
That very day an accident occurred which kept
him prisoner in his room for several weeks,
and when next he went ont the house was
empty, and placard with great flaring letters
announcing it for sale stared him in the face,
from the same window in which the little
white-rohed elf had st cd waving her hand
faces appeared there, but they were strange
+, ces, and among them was never the one for
which he looked.
Now, as Carradine ga. painting alone, he
thought of all this; of the struggle that had
ended at length in success; o. his hard, un-
friended boyhood, and Of the beautiful child
with her fragrant rose crown, which had
feemed almost like prophecy. That rose
wreath, dry and withered now, was all that was
left to him of the fair vision; but when that
morning, in turning over on old portfolio, he
had come upon it by CHARGE, it sroke TO him of
that by-gone day just as eloquently az when it's
blossoms were fresh and full
Eight years ago." he said, thoughtfully, let
tir3 the shriveled crclet slip through his
i, gers slowly ''she must be sixteen now-if
presence-somewhere. wonder where she is
now, and what che is like at sixteen?"
With that he placed the wreath beside his
easel, and began to paint The face, az it grew
on his canvas, presented young girl in the
dewy morning blush Of first youth, with shad-
about the brig t curled lips, like an embodied
summer sun shower. It was thus that the ar
list pictured his ideal of the child woman,
whose infantile look and smile for eight long
years had been his own dream of love-
Carradine had not had an easy life. An or
nhAn from hia eRrlipat and III
friended, he had studied hard for the means to
crafty that inherent idolatry for art which was
always clamoring to find expression in form and
coloring He had fought AMI he had won; but
now, at twenty;six, he s'ood in the p ACC which
he had gained for himself almos. as much
alone At the very heart as he had been eight
years BEFORE when the child's gift came to him
as prophecy.
1t was not that he was frIendess There
were men who liked and sought him, women
his loneliness in their affection. But though his
nature responded rapidly to any kindness, there
was ono chord deeper than all, thai remained
untouched, and from the sweetest elances his
thoughts went back to the unknown oh,ld that
had smiled down on him so long ago.
The ideal head became his great source of
enjoyment and q dreamy softness shaded his
dark-grey eyes, as line by line and tint by tint
took him back into that past, which, all life
less as it was, seemed to him, in those mo-
men's, more reai tnan inc busy present. !et
now, in reviewing that one bright vision of his
memory, it was not 80 much the lovely child
that he saw in fancy, as the beautiful girl
whose face, with fuller depth and sweetness,
looked ont 1t him from his own canvas.
Instinctively, he hardly knew why, he dis
enee. and he devoted to it only his hours of
solitude. SO it happened that it was nearly
finished when by some chance, friend dis
covered him bending over it, too absorbed to
hear any approach As the door opened, Car
radine rose hastily, turning his easel to the
little stratagem, however, was destined to be of
no avail Having been marked by the in
truder, one Of those cordial we'll meaning pao-
pie, good natured TO q degree, but with little
delicscy Of perception-the action at once
aroused his curiosity.
"Ahs. master painter" he eaid, with laugh.
'qet US SEQ what it is that you work at by your
self till it steals away your eyes and ears Only
one peep!"
with that, he laid his hand on the frame, and
receiving no forbidding word from Carradine,
turned it around The next moment he was
loud in praise.
'sBut who is it, Carradine? If it is portrait,
tell me where to find the original, and will, if
1t is seven days Journey"
Carradine smiled.
'If myself knew where to find such an
original should not be here to tall you, my
good friend" he answered evasvely.
ooh, q fancy sketch" said the other, mis-
led, as the artist had desired II might have
saved myself the trouble Of asking No real
flesh and blood facs ever looked like that
more shame to nature, say. OF course you
will exhibit it, Carradne?"
'tNo!' answered the painter, quietly.
seNo" repeated the other in surprise. sBut
my dear fellow, you muef, or l shall betray
your secret, and you will have swarm of Wis
itors worse than plague Of Egypt, let in upon
you"
Uarradine hesitated. A chance word In his
friends speech had suggested possibility
that made his heart leap in spite of sober rea-
son.
''You are right" he said. ri shall send the
picture for exhibition. It will be better so."
After his visitor had left him alone again,
Carradine bent low over his easel, gazing into
the lovely, upturned face, until it began to fade
into the gathering twilight
consciously "But it cannot be. Yet I will
send it-aud perhaps-"
And so the picture was sent, in due time:
and 1t seemed almost as il Carradine's soul
had gone with it and drawn HIM to follow
the gallery, scrutinizing eagerly every face
arnid the visitors, whom taste or fashion had
brought TO look at tho now celebrated artists
latest success. Every night he went away un-
satisfied and every morning ing he returned with
Still, the object OF his search, whatever it may
have been, does not appear; and one day, dis
courased at last, TO resolved to so no more on
go frui:less an errand. Shutting himself in his
studio, he began to paint. but strive as he
would, he could command neither hand nor
fancy. Finally, tired Of repeated failure, he
abandoned work, and yielded to an impulse
which drew his steps in tho customary 0irec-
ton.
When he entered tho small eide room in which
his picture hung, he found but two persons
within, young man and girl
Carradlne could not see the faces Of these
two, but with an earnestness for which he was
at loss to account. he followed their retreat,ng
figures as they moved slowly toward his pic
lure. But the next moment an exclamation Of
.stonishmont burst from the lips Of the young
man.
"Why, here ia your portrait, Lniia! What
does it mean? Who can tho painter boy"
y it'll that lie hurried out to purchase cata-
o!ue. Carrad,ne advanced quickly to the girl.
II am the painter,n he enid.
She turned and looked at him with one steady
.aze from ,]loso glorious eyes thut had haunted
!is. visions for 80 many years. Then she
noke:
"You painted that pictures anil how?"