Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1884-05-22

}. | WOIldunOOu IHGO my picture, pub my COL
ception of her was yet vague and shad
owY, Now, however, had found tn
very being, and my mind was made VI
l took an early opportunity of revisitin
the shop, and entering into a friendi
conversation with the girl. l found ou
that her father was dead and that tn
shop belonged to her widowed mother
who lived over it, that she and her eide
sister kept it, and that they were no
very well off l ordered my newspape
from the shop and frequently bough
odds and ends there; then, after our ac
Quaintance had ripened more, l ventureC
to breach the subject of the picture
Would she be willing to sit for me fo
her likeness?
!. She blushed and smiled in a pleased
manner when | asked her, and / saw tha
the opposition, if any, would not come
from her. Her vanity was fiattered; sht
would be painted in picture, and writ
ten about in the newspapers. and every
body would come to see and admire hel
face. Yet, after the first qualification was
lover, a modest doubt showed itself IL
hereyes. She said she would consult her
mother aud let me know tomorrow.
Next day called for my answer and
saw the old lady herself. Mrs. Maynard
was very respectable elderly woman
with grave, maternal face and yellow
ish white hair. There was an exceptional
refinement about the features and man
ners, and l saw that she scanned one
particularly and with somewhat anX-
ious air. The scrutiny evidently result.
ed in my favor, for, after questioning me
as to the nature OF the sitting, the time,
the privacy and the remuneration. she
turned about to her daughter with re-
laxing smile and said
well, Lily, if YOU would like to go,
you can"
Lilys face beamed up with radiant joy
her moods were instant and swift as
lightning. ''Oh yes. mamma, l should,
she responded eagerly.
So it was settled, and Lily became my
model. She used to come every other af-
ternoon, and sit till dark. By degrees
her sweet, ever-changing expression of
naive girlishnesS bewitched me. Per
haps, too, / invested her with some of
the ideal qualities l was striving to put
upon my canvas. Day after day as she
sat there before me, l discovered new
beauties in her glorious face, with its
golden aureole and wistful eye. 1t SEEM
ed to grow into my life and blend itself
with the highest part of me, my imagi-
nation. Little Lily the shop girl, became
my romance.
For long time l did not discover this,
even to myself. We seemed to be very
good friends. She would stand patiently
before me, sometimes lost in a dreamy
trance, sometimes turning up her eyes to
me with a roguish look which made me
laugh and cry out:
why, what's the matter with you,
Lily?"
Nothing" she would reply. "Why do
you ask 2"
you looked at me so cOmically."
Looked comical-tkank you-yOu are
very complimentary"
Now give US your dreamy expression
again"
MY dreamy expression 1 a
dreamy eXpressionY'
"Yes, you know you have ethereal
and dreamy"
Ethereal and dreamy. Well now-and
comical?"
yes, and comical-when you like"
"Then l must be queer creature"
THAT you are, you WITCH" 1 could not |
help answering. But my work recalled
me to myself.
She came punctually at the hour, and |
left as punctually. Our intercourse was
confined to gossip and good natured |
chaff within the stndio, until 1 altered
the composition of my picture for bet
ter inspiration that had come to me, and
finding that my time was limited arrang-
od fcr fo Of rxrifh offar darLy frhaY1 |
| got into the habit of escOrting her home
through Hornsey churchyard.
1t was then that l began to find out
that Lily loved me. In the studio she
was always cheerful, but never showed
any signs of tender feelings excepting (as
[ remembered afterward) when / went
near her to adjust her dress and put her
IN proper pose. Then she blushed with
with self-cOnsciousness, and smiled with
ll-concealed pleasure at my touch Dear
child, 1 think l see her now! On our
walks home, however, / gathered from
many slight tokens, obvious to the lover,
hat she cared for me. Her very bound
ng spirits, and coy laughter, and quaint s
'epartee was evidence of it. II
One evening we had quarrel. We al
ways spoke to one another without cere~ |
nony, and sometimes took wicked {
pleasure in leasing her. That night it !
lad begun to snow, and the flakes fell !
hick around US, as | sheltered her with /
ny umbrella from the blast as we went
long the lanes.
Now don't you think | deserve some q
hing for seeing you through the snow '
o night?" said.
'You are well enough paid for il" she r
eplIed |
How SOP" asked '
in seeing me-" i
"Oh! Indeedr' answered, rather taken i
,ack. :
I'm sure don't want YOU" said Lily. &.
II think you are yer7 impudent to say /
o." remarked after pause of several n
ninttes, during which we walked on side a
y side through the falling flakes. t
Il don't like to be called lmpudent, MIR.
Iorley,' she said. IF / am impudent, h
ont think people ought to tell me So" n
People should be told their faults" | fl
bServed, feeling that great gulf had II
pened at my feet, and that the future b
7as charged with some vague and dread
ul catastrophe.
That depends" said she, andnO more
1as said. We walked on in silence until
re came to the door of her home, when e
he bowed stiffiy and without putting out Il
er hand said Good night, Mr.. Morley, C
4 cold, freezing tone. 1 lifted my hat "
nd went hOmeward, i'll at heart, and re-
diving many things. The next day she I,
'as punctual at my studio, but would not s.
bake hands as usual The poor child d
Tas dying to see me and make the quarrel Il
hllt a had har ininrnH a IN ! :
erve. Her face wore an offended look, y
nd her lips were firmly set, but few
lords of apology from me melted all her u