The Sunday herald. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1866-1887, 1886-05-30
PAUL SMITH. A. r. A.


And he Ia gone.'" PiNKERTos.
PAUL SMITH, A. r. A.
The morning sun was streaming into
large walnscoted room, filling II with
beauty, shining through the small panes Of
three tall narrow windows, severely draped
In Syrian muslin curtains.
The furniture in the room had an old
world look. But that comfort was not sac.
fifced TO appearance was shown In the some
what uhwieldy Indian cane lounging chairs
and a couch, made beautiful by a gold
cashmere shawl covering II.
Persian rugs and soft and glossy furs gave
tone and color 10 the plain golden colored
panels Of the room. At the further end
fine piece Of old tapestry, partly drawn aside,
screened of a smaller room, lighted by a
window Of olive.green glass, showing a mar
row door in the wains6ot, leading, II might
be, TO . deep cupboard, Or passage COM
municatipg with the corridor. Yellow
dafodils, In quaint Japanese bronze pots,
delicious bits Of blue aud white, wildly
colored fans, dashed here and there In bright
flashes, amid the various objects Of art, were
hardly needed to show that IL was an artists
home. The studio was further embellished
by the occupants, two young men. One,
the owner, was smoking while his faoile
pencil rapidly sketohed on q small wooden
block, listening the while to his companions
talk. For Paul Smith, although ambitious
Of better things, was industrious and could
i'll afford TO waste time. Pending the ar
rival of the expected model for his impor.
taut picture OH the easel, he was finishing
one Of the numerous orders for a popular
magazine.
The tall Chippendale timepiece struck 10
as he impatiently exclaimed: "Isabel's late
this morning. Strangel As a rule she is
the most dependable Of women."
fare women ever to be depended upon 2"
his friend, the Hon. Hugo Somerville, asked i,
gazing absently at the picture on the
easel.
"She is. Glad you seem to like my pic.
ture."
Paul Smith pointing to the centre figure
with his mahlstick, began in an orat0rical
his faithlsss majesty, Francis l. LIE roi
gallant, in defiance of the maxim to be of
with the old love, etc., sends, at woman's
instigation, of course, for the love tokens
and Jewels he had given his old fame"
"And pray who was the old loveW Hugo
asked, interrupting his friends flow of elo-
quence.
briant. And, IS you may observe, she
obeyed his Majesty's command, but returns
them In grand smash, worthless as his
affection: sentiment embodied Ia the neat
lines you have been reading. There's not
another girl in London with such head Of
hair: the true Old Master shade. Leon
ardo should have painted her instead of the
archsinner Francis.
"Magnificentl And a lovely face. Haven't
you hattered herr Hasn't she frecklesf"
"Nol" Paul replied honestly. 81
couldn't flatter her If tried she is simply
beautiful. Look at her photo there even
without color IL is lovely"
Hugo Somerville took portrait from the
looking glass, and gave it long, serious
look. HPerfsct," he exclaimed at length.
"Yes and she's as good as she's perfect"
Paul continued. "For when l was down
with typhoid fever last year, that girl nursed
me like mother. She had been hospital
nurse for few months and was up to the
work she pulled me through, too. Sir
William Carstairs said. he could do nothing /;
all depended upon my constitution, and
upon nursing aud care. l owe my life to
her."
"Of course you'll pay your debt aud
marry her, live happily ever after, and 30
end-or begin--the romance"
at would end the romance inderd, my
dear fellow can't afford it,"
"Why, it would pay in the long run ;
she'd sit to you gratis. Marry her.
would, II were you."
'If we're you, might; the Hon. Hugo
Somerville may indulge In matrimonial &c.
II 4 k<,N 4,
name of Smith to be more particular. An
sis she commonS 7" Hugo inquired eagerly.
"No! uncommon enough-One of natures
gentle women, though believe her father
was gentleman. But want the happy
combination Of nature and art--allied to
wealth."
81 should 60 in for such combination as
see here and leave destiny to take care OF
ITSELF" cried Somerville, touching the photo,
as he spoke, almost revsrently.
Smith laughed. "There goes the door
She'll be in directly, and you can Judge fol
yourself"
Rising, he drew the portiere aside, aud
looked into the small room. II was empty.
Opening the door, he looked beyond into the
passage. No one. He returned aud re-
marked, in disappointed tone: "Isabsl has
not come, yet was sure l heard the door
close. must have been mistaken" Somer.
vile felt equally sure, but said nothing.
Reluctantly he stuck the photo again In
the corner of the glass, after carefully motto
ing the address sorawled in pencil at the
back. He suddenly remembered an import
ant engagement, and hurriedly left the artist
Paul remained plunged in brown study,
which, II put into words, would have been
to the effect that, however charming Isabel
Gray might be, II bsho0ved him to marry for
something more than love. Money or rank
the one would add to his comfort, the other
to his popularity a. fashionable portrait
painter, the summit Of his ambition. Look
ing at the luxuries surrounding him re
msmbering the high rent he paid for the
studio and the low state Of his finances the
hand to mouth life he led . visionary 40
count At his bankers, existing only In the
Imagination Of his fellow Bohemians re-
membsring all this, he knew how little he
could afford to indulge In that luxury Of the
wealthy.-a love mstohl
Pshawi With the thought the image O
Isabel arose, and "the tender grace OF day
that is dead''-her devoted care Of him IN
that serious illness. True, he was unoon
scious Of the extent Of her sacrifice the
uecessaries she deprived herself Of to min
lister TO his comfort, to procure the little
Injuries tempting to an invalid's siukly ap
petite the weary days, the broken nights
passed at his bsadside. These were only
vaguely known 10 him, chiefly oomprshended
| In Sir Williams memorable verdict "YOr
owe your life TO your nurse"
He could not forget the succeeding day
when oonvalescence had set in the shor
country excursions, Isabel's bright happi
ness. Holidays had left pleasant memories
Walks under the magnificent chestnuts II
Bushsy Park and the stately Lines shading
the clear stream psopled with large specklet
trout In the HYDROCARBONS. Windsor Castl,
and the Park and Issbel's childish dsligh
"a a brilliantly plumed cock pheasant
majsstically crossed their path or q partridge
whirrsd past them rising in startled figh
from amid the bracken. Sometimes he
mother would accompany them in these OK
cursions, but often they were alone. How
she rsvslled In the country, hating her Lon
don prison yet how bravely she had worke'
aud toilsd to keep her widowed mother
Aud now as a friehdless orphan-her mo.he
had lately disd-she was steadily doing he
duty, fighting bravsly through the man.
troubles and temptations to which her call
ing more particularly exposed her. Wit
unwonted tenderness he recalled the silver