Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-06-15
BY A W0MAN'S HAND.
CHAPTER I.

HE eyes tuTneu loHStuSly ultcI lic oist$tu' procession with Its waving banners sleamins In tho clear bright air, and the rich full mel- ody of that glorious chant rolling in sonoroua echoes over the hills around.
 Sure to-" he continued, following up his thought. "She lives about hero, doubtless. I must sketch her from life. Her face Is perfect. It is just the face I want. too"
 Then herose, put away paper and pencils. and slowly sauntered down the hot stony, road and keeping tho procession still in view, entered the town whither it was going to finish the celebration in the little church of the Misercordia.
 A little dusky, oldworld, half-forgotten l own it was, with nothing of note save its few churches and an arched bridge or two, and an ancient carved gateway some hundred years old, ard narrow ill-paved streets, and quaint tumble-down houses, picturesque l enough to painters and artists, but models ot dirt and discomfort in themselves. The man was a painter. and had come from Rome. He was not a very great or cele- brated artist, being poor and of humble birth, but full of a great ambition, and with an i'm | patience of tongue and manner that had | often marred his success. He had come hero to gather subjects for picture on which | he was then occupied and tho intense quiet, | the dreamy hush of the quaint old town, and the beauty of the country around had charmed him so that he stayed on from week to week, much longer than he had intended. As he strolled along his thoughts were still busy with that scene. "It would mako a | good subject" bo pondered.. "Those beauti- full cypress-crowned hills, that long, winding tI> vestments, and the gold fringe of the waving | banners. and above all, that intense blue sky; and then the pure sant-like face of the one girl and the lovely glowing beauty and | great astonished eyes of the other as she looked up from her book. Oh, yes, it would do well and nothing pleases people so much as to see in picture or a stage representa- 1 tion the very scenes which, if they did but open their eyes, they would Sc a thousand times over in every day life-set in their very midst It is strange age-truly." Later on, he entered the old gray church where the people were thronging in crowds, and the sound of the chanting and smoke of heincense, and tinkling of the tiny bell came out over the bowed heads and kneeling fig. ures on the steps and in the streots.
 He did not quito know why he entered some impulse for which he could not ac. l count, prompted him-but as he pushed his way through the throny he saw closo beside l him the maiden wno had attracted his mo- l tice in the procession. His eager eyes | fastened on her, almost compelling her own own to meet them by that magnetic force which lies in q long fixed gaze. She blushed even more rosily than before, but round the soft scarlet mouth faint smile played. Nita too used to admiration to resent it,
 The painter Anio stood aside and watched the Tuscan maidens pass out He saw they were unaccomp panied, and resolved to keep them in WOW. Walking in their rear, he heard the elder say: "Wil you go home now, Nita, or not?"
 "Home?" was the imp petuous Iejoinder "No, I am going to Cecco, the coppersmith, now. His daughter, Teresina, has asked me- Will you not ccmo too?"
 "Nay you know I am no friend of Tore sina's, Nita. She has bold ways, and is sly of speech. l do not like her. I am sorry you should go there; nor do I think Maso would like it.'
 The brown eyes, so patient and sad, looked wistfully at the lovely, willful face, but met no answer to their entreaty save a shake of the head. "You and Maso would let me do nothing, and go nowhere, if you could have your way" said pretty Nita pouting.
 "Nay, dear wo only wish to keep you from evil company. It is bad for any maiden to be talked about as Teresina is talked of here."
 Well, I am going there, so 1t is no use to say anything more" was the wilful rejoin. der; and, satisfied with what he had heard Anio slaekened his pace, and turned away an amused smile on his lips. 'Teresina's friend" he said to himself. "Tis easily managed then. Teresina is my model. She must bring this girl to me-
 Ho walked swiftly up the narrow, ill., paved streets, and stopped at a house close to the market-place. A girl was leaning out of window overhead-a dark -browed, handsome girl, with dscontented faco and eyes clouded now with anger. The painter locke up. "Not out? How comes that, pretty one?" he Said.
 She glanced at him, and her faced flushed
 'They would not let me-" she said sulkily Ut was Lippa's turn, and one of us mus stay and do tho housework."
 What on a Feast Day?"
 II was at early mass; but I go out agail this evening""
 "You will come down to me at the ol, place, WILL you not!
 "I don't know. I have friend with m today. She comes from the hillside. It is good distance, and I must walk homo witt her ore dark"
 (Which road do you take? I will mee you."
 The girl looked little surprised at hi
 engerness, then pointed In the direction, an, hastily withdrew. Looking round to dis cover the cause of her disappearance, he sa,
 approaching a group of girls and youths
 among them Nita.
 ) Once again as they passed each other hi , eyes caught hers, and once again her ow B answered their appeal. "Throe times," h 9 murmured. passing on, while the laughin
 group swept by, my fatal number" s CHAPTER II. s MODEL.