Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1886-06-23

81 hope and want to do SO, Mr.. Cameron
| but you are a difficult subject. 1t is tbt
expression which find difficult to render
just now the portrait is passing through 6
| variety of stages truly appalling.
That afternoon as Mr.. Cameron was de
parting my brother came in. I saw him
| casting supercilious look through the eye
glass at my sitter. -
swell, Jack remarked with his cynical
smile, 81 cannot congratulate you on the
beauty OF your sitter, he looks like cattle
drover. And what nose, by Jove! ex.
pect he is fond of the whiskey- -bottle!'
He went into my studio and gave vent to
loud guffaw.
swell, Ursula, you have succeeded; this
is hideously, brutally like the old cove. 1t
would do for sign-post for country inn,
drunken Silenus, Or mine host with a
tankard of beer and a long clay pipe; but it
is vulgar.
"Do you think so?' 1 exclaimed, very
Respondent; sis it failure, Jack?''
'No, it is TOO like," and he laughed
agaia; ''but there is such thing as being
too true: you have softened nothing. Now
that nose is an exact rendering of the orig
inal, pimples, and color"
That night was in despair. I took the
portrait up to my bedroom, placed it on the
easel facing my bed, hoping that on
awakening next morning after refresh
ing sleep l should see what was wrong,
and where I could flatter and tone down
defects. had nightmare that night;
the portrait seemed that of an ogre with at
least half dozen swollen vermilion noses.
had dim sensation of getting out of
my bed, lightning candle, fetching my
palette and brushes, and, in my nocturnal
garments and asleep, painting on the
picture.
Next morning the housemaid came into
the room with the hot water.
ooh, miss y she exclaimed, "what has
happened to the picture? 1t is all sorts of
colors, chiefly blue and yellow and looks
like corpse. Oh, it is dreadful
| sat up. What did I see !? The por-
trait indeed looked like a decomposed
corpse.
81 must have worked at it in my sleep,
Susan; you see my palette is full of color,
and my brushes have paint on them. 1t is
too, 100 vexatious-what shall do? Get
me the turpentine which is in the studio"
When got the turpentine I managed to
efface the nocturnal somnambulistic work;
but the fates were against me, and l wept
bitterly. Was this picture going to be a
failure?
When Mr.. Cameron came for his sitting
he noticed my detected appearance, and
asked me if anything had happened to an
noy me.
81 have headache" (What would We
poor women do without our headaches
for they cover such multitude of sins and
omissions)
"You worry yourself too much over this
portrait, feel ashamed of the trouble I
am giving you. had no notion that por-
trait painting was so difficult"
"Yes, l am in slough of despond." l
scraped and scumbled. After an hours
work the old ghost reappeared, and,
strange to say, looked better than it ever
did before-there was a pleasant surface
to work on.
Mr.. Cameron was more silent than usual,
but his eyes rested on me with greater
earnestness, and his manner was very
sympathetic.
"You are very hard-working lassie !"
he exclaimed, "and SO gifted. 7 shall be
sorry when the sittings are over, for have
enjoyed your society too much almost"
"Iou have been very patient, Mr.. Cam
eron. and now am going to give you few
UdyS uUiludy, III OTucr W dllOW your pOI-
trait to dry thoroughly
On leaving that day Mr.. Cameron held
my hand longer than usual, and sighed.
Poor old man l felt really sorry for him
he was lonely.
The next day being Thursday l went to
the National Gallery and set to work on my
copy Of Andrea del Sarto; his face seemed
more beautiful than ever. That days
work refreshed and comforted me.
That evening | received a letter from
Harold telling me that he had something
important to say to me. Something i'm
portant Most probably he was going
to have a living, and, if so, our marriage
would soon take place.
The next morning magnificent bouquet
of roses was left at the door for Miss Ward
How nice of dear Harold to be so thought
full l mentally exclaimed, while shifting
the glorious roses and enjoying the bright
feast of color. The bouquet was wrapped
in silver lace, and round the stem l saw
for the first time card, which had escaped
my notice:
"From Mr.. Donald Cameron, with his
very kindest regards"
Oh, so it was not from Harold But how
kind of Mr.. Cameron ! Now, must real
ly flatter him. Taking up the portrait l
did my very best to put in benevolent ex-
preston. / mellowed down the nose, and
toned down the warm coloring of the face,
and managed in measure to give the ex-
preston of benevolence. The black coat
looked too new to be artistic, the shirtfront
bulged out like fat pigeons breast, and
the coral studs were too prominent; the
hands were not we'll painted. but the car
buncle ring was a triumph of skill.
When Mr.. Cameron appeared again l
faucied he looked thinner and paler
thanked him. for the bouquet.
''Ah, lasse, no more thanks. 1t has
been real happiness. l wish you would
accept flowers from me every morning. l
long to do something that might give you
pleasure. I don't really know what I am
to Go when this portrait is over"
''You astonish me, Mr.. Cameron, in re-
GREETING the sittings are over. Most people
consider sitting for portrait such a bore.'
"Ah, no; not to charming young gifted
creature like you. You must remember
am a lonely old man, and seldom find my
way into the society of young ladies'"
''Would you like another peep at your
portrait?" | said rather brusquely, for
wished to put an end to the personal turn
the conversation was taking.
Ou uhFO IIolCU luC3 uC lCAdIhcu,
after looking at my performance for a few
seconds in silence; ''but never mind that
I like to think that you have seen me in
such kindly Lights
''Shall I sing for you, Mr.. Cameron p
You have sat long enough for me to-day
! Iwent to the piano, and while 1 was
looking for some music in the rack Mr..
Cameron sat down on the music-stool.
care you going to play for me?'' I ask
| ed, smiling at him. 81 should like to hear
you so much"
| He did not answer, but turned round and
round on the stool, mopping the perspira-
ton from his face with scarlet handker-
chief. There was queer expression in his
face; evidently he was suffering from a
severe attack of nervousness.
He whirled round and round like a
teetotum, the stool creaked and groaned
under his heavy weight, his eyes were wild
and rolled about fearfully; heard his voice,
but it was so husky could barely distin-
guish the following words:
81 am lonely. elderly man, but that is
no reason why l should not have heart,
and must tell you that''-now the stool
gave tremendous squeak-"I love you
yes l do. Will you give me some hope?" A