Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1885-09-13
A PAINTERS MODEL.

must, and sell thou must, else to-day We
starye,' and she who said these words, a
pleasant woman, old snd bent, stepped back
into her cottage and shut the door upon the
girl who stood heEtatipgly without IN the
sunlight looking with troubled face at the
basket of flowers on her arm. She had new
er tried to sell before, and was it likely any
one would Guy Of her? She had no tat
tiers 20 attract pity, no wine to stimulate
misery; II was the impQdent beg
gar, she tod he-sef, the best trsgediAn, not
the really poor, who made anything By
street oeggIng. Begging bad il come
to that? Almost. thought the girl Who
viii want flowers? Not the visitors-they
90 to the foTes. themselves to pick them,
and no one else win pay for flowers. Yet
the evening before Zoe and her grand
mother had agreed that something must be
tried, sgd TIA: morning early the girl had
gene into the forest, neighbors wagon
giving her lift to spot where grew the
fairtst lilies OF the valley. There as
she had gathered buGly, needing
not the heavy dew, tears Of
night which tie suns comforting rays
wUur1l prssen,ly 1isnel the birds overhead
caIoius their uatin hymns young hope
had sprung up within her with visions Of
better things and happier days The soli-
tude of the great forest seemed to soothe
her mind its solemn grandeur to elevate her
thoughts, and each flower which she added
to her store spoke with its delicate purity
and subtle perfume, as If directly TO her
heart. Now, as she stood at the cottage
door, en- the outskirts Of the forest, the
long road before her into Fontsine-
bleau stretching straight ahead, ho.
and white under the rays OF the midday sun,
the girls spirits sank. Slowly she took her
way down the Rue de France, welinigh
deserted looziDg-for though only May, the
heat vas considerable, and not q shutter or
blind Of the low, white houses but vas 10
reuuisition TO shelter from the MONDAY
glare these engaged on the omelet and
salad Of their second breakfast. Here and
there, through sn open pDrtg cDrhsre, q
glimpse could De had beyond the court
yard Of the trim, shady gardens at the back.
with their neat avenues of closely clipped
trees and rustic Summer houses, in
which to 81, after lunch, sip
ping coffee, dreaming over book, and yet
listening 8 Ehile TO the hum Of insects, and
the note Of the cuckoo born clearly across
from the forest on the perfume-lsden air Of
hay-sYeetesy Of months-must have been
pleasant enough.
As Zoe trucges on there rsttles past her,
over TIE large, rough paving stones, q be
lated market cart. uder the bright green
cotton covering, stretched on hoops across
it, sunburned country woman, stick slOtt,
urges her tired horse. Ihad gone lame on
the way and hey were hours behind time.
Zoe looks with pity from the long suffering
animal 10 It's heated and impatient
driver. As she approached the town
ore or two wsgoRettes, full of strangers
going to explore the forest, pass her.
The bells on the harness jingle mer-
rily; there is 8 CrackiDg and tourishing of
who's, and the sound of laughter and tor
eign tongues. Further on still, where
small, narrow streets open out from the
long Rue de France, shops appear, first few
and far betweeu-a cobbler's here baker
there-grsdually more varied, and then
continuous. till the chsteaux are left far
behind. The stir begins. A troop Of cav
airy, in thsir pale bule and scarlet uniform,
clstters paat; the bloom of the guns is
heard more distinctly. Fontainebieau, al
ways martial is most so this month, when
regiments from elsewhere come to it.
AS centre, for gun practice. There is
the extra movement, TOO, o! market day.
Bat among sll the pAsssss-by Zoe has no.
found a soul to whom she could offer her
flowers Yet she Psuses not to tell the
straight and seemingly interminsole stree.
turns s corner at last and opens into the
heart Of the town. Before her now appear
the heavily scented pink chestnut trees,
the luxurisnt hlacs, the graceful lsournum,
rain Of gold, aud the copper beeehes which
adorn the Garden of Diana, one Of the
approaches to the palace Of the courtly
Francis |. Here, in the Place Denecourt,
in the centre of life at Fontsineblue,
once the beloved of Kings, now
of artists: hare are the hotels, the shops,
theatre; and here Zoe stands awhile for at
the corner Of the Place Denecourt is
large cafe which she must needs pass, and
vet. who should buy, II not these gentle
men? A dozen and more little tables are
dotted soout on the foot pavement under
the striped awning. At the tables git the
usual groups, officers mostly, smoking aud
Y.
walters fy in and out, laden with coffee,
absirthe and cigarettes. Slowly IN front
of the cafe passes Zoe; she dsres not stop.
Besides being too modest and re
tirirg TO draw attention TO her
flowers. she fears a rebuke from the walters
were she to offer her lilies for sale; yet,
when she has passed the last table she
pauses. and timidly looks back. At this
last table are seated two gentlemen-one an
officer, the other in plain clothes. The lat
ter. the elder Of the two, man OF some
forty.two years is leaning back in his
chair with folded arms Cnnoticed by
Zoe, his keen eyes have followed her every
moment since she first approached the cate.
Now, as she pauses in front of him looking
wisttUlly back, he leans forward, and plac
ing his hand lightly on the arm Of his
friend who was about to raise glass TO his
lips. Look, mon cher he whispers, this
proGle-purity itself!
Word Of honor, you are right" returns
the officer, and yet should not have dis.
covered il of myself II is a face which
would have escaped me-
TOO pure, too unearthly" mutters the
other with a smile of pity not at Zoe bat
at his friends taste. Tell me, my child
how much are your flowers? Did you pick
them yourself?
"Oh, Monsieur said the peasant girl
trembling, as tears of pent-up emotion
spring 10 her eyes, you are the 6rst who
has deigned 10 look at my flowers, and yet
we starye to-day if make not few sous By
them
At this cry Of want 50 genuine, so sim
pie AID yet so unexpected, judging by
the girls appearance. the officer struck an
eyeglsss in one eye s; S.f as 1t out OF re-
spect to poverty-the goddess IL whose
honor Aristophsnes wrote-loEere5 the
cigarette from his lips. The other man
slipped silver coin into Zoe's basket. A
deep fush tinged the nhnn Of the rirpa