Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-02-07
MISS BRETHERTON
By MRS. HUMPHREY WARD,

By MRS. HUMPHREY WARD, drove him into betraying every hero ard there his own real standpoint whether he would or no.
 "You must not say such things" he said, es calmly as he could. "You havo charmed the English public as 10 one else las ever charmed it. Is that not great thing to have donei And if l. who am very fastid- ious and very captious and over-critical Ill Il hundred ways-if am inclined to think that n part is rather more than you, with your short dramatic experience, can con1ness quite successfully, why, what does it lnatters 1 may be quite wrong. Don't take any notice of my opinion; forget it, and let me help you, if can, by talking over the play"
 She shook her Lead with q bitter littlo smile. 'No, no; l shall never forget it. Your attitude only brought home to me, al most more strongly than could bear, what have suspected .,ag, long time-the con tempt which people like you and MT. Wal lace feel for mer'
 "Contcmps!" cric,i Kendall, beside himself, and feeling as if all the criticisms he had allowed himself to make of her were recoil- ing in one averaging mass upon his head. '1 neve:' felt any thing but the warnest nd!n- ration for your courage, your work, your
 
 ''Yes," she said, rising and holding out her hand half unconSciously for her cloak, which she put round her as though the wood had suddenly grown cold; "admiraton for lae as a woman, contempt for me as an artist. There's the whole bare truth. Does 1t hold my future in it, ] woaderi l. there nothing in me but this beauty that people talk of, and wh ch 1 sometimes hatef'
 She swept her h..lr back from her forehead with fierce dramatic gesture 1t was as though the self in her was rising up and Gs- sertng itself against the judgment which had been passed upon it, as if sonlo hidden force hardly suspected even by herself, were beat ing against its bars. Kendall watched her in helpless silence Tell me-" she said, fixing her deep hazel eyes upon him, ''you owe it to Ele-you have given mo so much pain. No. no; you did not mean it. But tell me, and tell me from the bottom of your heart-that is, if you nre interested enough in me-what is it wantl What is it that seems to be threatening me with failure as an artista work all day long; my work is never out of my head; it seems to pursue mo all night. E,~ the more l struggle with it tho less suc- cessful seem even to myself"
 Her look was haunting; there waS despair and there was hope in it. It implied that she had set him up in her impulsive way as sort of an oracle who alone could help her out of her difficulty. In presence of that look his own conventionalty fell away from him, and he spoke the plain, direct truth to her.
 ''What you want" he said slowly, as if the words werc forced from him, "is knowledge! London has taught you much, and that is why you are dissatisfied with your work-it is the beginning of all real success. But you want positive knowledge-the knowledge you could get from books, and tho knowl- edge other people could teach you. You want true sense of what has been done and what can be done with your art, and you want all insight into tho world of ideas lying round it md about it. You arc very young, and you have had to train yourself But every human art nowadays is so complicated that mono of us can get on without using the great stores of experience others have laid up for us"
 It was all out now. He had spoken his inmost mind. They had stopped again, and she was looking at him intently; it struck him that he could not possibly have said what he had been saying unless he had been led on by an instinctive dependence upon q great magnanimity of nature ill her. And then the next moment the strange opposites the matter held in it flashed across him. He saw tue crowded theatre, the white figure on the stage; his ear seemed to be full of the clamor of praise with which London had been overwhelinin. its favoritc It was to this spoiled child of fortune tEat he had been playing the schoolmaster-he,o one captious man of letters, against the world
 But she had not thought of the kind, or rather tho situation presented itself to her in exactly tho contrary light. To her kendars words, instead of being those of single critic were the voice and the embodiment of q hundred convergins impressions and sensa- tions, and she felt relief in having analysed to the full the vague trouble which had been settling upon her by this unraveling of her own feelings and his.
 II am very grateful to you," she said steadily; ''very. It is strange, but almost when l first you felt that there was something oninous in you to me. My dream ill which 1 have been living has never been so perfect since, and now think it Las gone Don't look so grieved," she cried, inexpres- ibly touched by his face. II an glad you told no all you thought. It will be a help to me. And ss for poor Elvira," she added, trying to smile, for all her extreme paleness, ''tell Mir. Wallace < givo her up l nm not ve1ed. I am not angry. Don't you think now we had ptter 90 back to Mrs Stuarta l should like q rest with her before VIC all meet again."
 She moved forward as she spoke, and it seemed to Kendall that her step was unsteady and that sho was deadly white. He planted himself before her ill tho descending path and held out a hand to help her. She gave him her own, and he carried 1t impetuously to his lips.
 You are nobleness itself!" he cried, from the depths of his heart. II feel as if had been the merest pedant blunderer-the most incapable, clumsy idiot"
 Sho smiled, but she could not answer And in n few moro moments voices and steps could be heard approaching, and the scene was over.
 CHAPTER VI
 The Sunday party separated at Padding ton on the night of the Nunehsm expedition, | and Wallace and Eustace Kendall walked | eastward together. The journey home had | been very quiet. Miss Bretherton had been forced to declare herself "extremely tired, D | and Mrs Stuart's anxiety and sense of re- sponsibility about her had communicated | themselves to the rest of the party.
 Ut is the effect of my long day yesterday, i" she said apologetically to Forbes, who hov- cred about her with those affectionate atten- cvyhi icb q oP