Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1886-04-22

ana ART crlClcS! t0r Lne hrSL Time Ag'
mes found the smile of Beatrice insipiC
and her gaze vacant. A doubt chilled
her heart. Luckily she turned the pic
to the wall, and sought the easement
gazing forth into the night rather thar
longer contemplate her own work.
The piazza, located in the rear of the
noisy avenue, overlooked the houses OF
the next street. These residences were
aristocratic in proportion as their neigl :
bOrs were humble. A high brick wall
bordered by vine of wistaria, inclOsed
stable and garden of the mansion oppO
site, while brilliant lights within re-
vealed a conservatory to the observer
The light came through curtains of silk
and lace in more remote drawing room
where the chandelier was visible, like a
great golden cone, and slanted across the
conservatory, resting here on frond OF
quivering ferns and there on a mass OF
gorgeous blossoms. At the same time
the ripping melody of a piano, touched
by a skillful hand, reached the ear of
this lonely spectator, who locked down
on all this luxury, gayety and life, not
so much with asting of envy as crush
ing, overwhelming sense of personal
failure.
The night was clear, stars sparkled in
the sky above, and the radiance of full
moon began to illuminate the city roofs.
A girl entered the conservatory, ap-
preached a sash and opened, leaning out
to discover the moon. She were pink
dress, with soft white lace on neck and
arms; a jewel flashed in her hair. Turn
ing aside from the window her sleeve
caught in the branch of a Towering
plant. She overturned it and it fell out
side the window with a crash of broken
pottery. The girl uttered little cry of
dismay. glanced down on the wreck she
had occasioned moment. then with
drew her head and closed the sash. The
plant, an offshoot of the eonservatory's
wealth of bloom and fragrance, remain
ed on the ledge where it had fallen.
Now the silk curtains separated, and
a gentleman Joined her. He was tall
and slender young man in evening dress,
with a flower in his button hole.
There is one for whom life is fortu-
nate mused the artist. How readily l
can picture him attaining maturity,
smiling and good humored, and growing
old in that charming home, surrounded
by friendsr
The girl had clasped her bands on the
young mans arm, and gazed up into his
face. He responded to this thoughtful
scrutiny by touching her hair lightly,
with his lips, and then speak
ing with careless laugh:
We'll, have consented to go to Min.
nesota for the winter, May. Such Mons
sense as it is. should prefer Paris or
Italy. A mere trifie of a cough. and all
the doctors looking so wise and glum.
They rejoice to secure a case suppose.
May disengaged her hands from his
arm and plucked eamelia. Her face
was as untroubled as his own.
Il shall return in the spring for our
wedding. dearest he continued. What
a weather-roughened giant you will
have fer bridegroom
Henry, take me with you,' she plead
ed, softly. DO not go away all alone,
dear. Let US be married to morrow
Without the Worth trousseau, ma
mig-nonne. and great reception he
half mockingly.
You should be gallant, and say some
thing about beauty unadorned,' said
May, tossing the camela at him.
Then the brilliant eyes of the young
man clouded, the rich color in his cheek
paled with emotion which made his lips
tremble.
My noble girl! My good little wife!'
he whispered, folding her closely in his
Agnes Clement witnessed this scene
without divining all its significance, and
a tender smile dswned on her own face.
The bomely devotion of Sister Anne to
her husband in her cabbage-scented do
minions did not touch her. The meeting
of the two young people in the conserva-
tory moved her profoundly. Was not her
artistic taste gratified by their beauty,
the light shed through the silk curtains
behind them, the rosy Skinner of the
girls draperies, and the shadow of exot>
ic plants meeting above their heads ?
She remained there motionless long after
the pair had disappeared, her eyes fixed
on the fallen plant, which still rested on
the ledge. The stone work blanched, in
contrast, the delicate white blossoms to
snow, and the moonbeams touched each
petal with silvery luster. The plant
had been cast out into the frosty night,
to die and be forgotten in the cold puri-
ty of the moonlight and beneath the cru
ell brilliancy of the distant stars. If she
could have rescued it from such death,
she would have done so; but she was
powerless to avert evil. Slowly she re-
turned to her room, extinguished the
light, and sought forgetfulness in sleep.
The journal containing the advertise
ment of Lang & Co. remained oD the
floor where she had thrown it at an ear
ler hour.
Next morning her first thought was of
the neglected plant. Had it survived
the night? What had become of it?
She hastened to see. The conservatory
sparkled in the merning light, and the
plant remained on the cornice ledge.
Yes, it had perished during the night.
Already the leaves were shriveled and