The morning call., 1890-08-03

ence save my friend DIR. Claveau. i thought the
case would interest him and knew that lie was
too ola d. to ae e GS S des ag
cry, which / poured forth In prose and verse.
was beginning TO think that even though Ilka
was a cold blooded anger yet had she blessed my
house and home, when her visits suddenly
ceased.
ceiving visit from her fastened TO her rooms
In the Rue de Clichy.
Moved out!" was the curt response to my in
Moved out?p l echoed with a gasp as the
light went out OF my eyes and leaned against the
wall TO keep from falling.
THAT'S what l said," repeated the janitress
calmly.
!" But where has she gone ?" l stammered.
LAS If should know" was the response.
home again.
:" She has deserted me for another" 1 groaned.
" Shall never see her again. l feel it. know
Now for the first time became aware of the
depth of my loye for this strange child. 1 threw
myself upon my bed / sobbed lie a child. /
made the place ring with her name. "llkaI
llkal Don't abandon me! Come back once
more AT least, once more for single hour, only
once more and after that I'll be stronger TO bear
my lOssp'
Days, weeks, months went by, and, although
tramped the streets till my limbs bent beneath
me, and expended considerable sums in paying
others TO search Tor me. yet she was not 10 be
found. But gradually my despair began to grow
somewhat lighter, and my step took on a little
lesson: hat it was not so hard after all 10 play
the Spartan youth, and smile In The worlds face
while the sharp teeth OF sorrow are set in your
very hearts fiber.
Nearly year had rolled around since Ilka's
| disappearance. when messenger brought note
| TO me one morning from my friend DuportaI
| the young artist whose work had just been
awarded the very highest prize, distinction
| which had gained for him. although barely 20.
| the ribbon OF Cheyalier in The Legion of Honor.
1t was scrawled upon the back of his visiting
card.
Dear Saint Amdnd Must see you to-day; impor-
| tant Come to breakfast If possible. DUPoRTAIL.
In few moments had finished dressing and
| was on my way to Dup0rtafs studio. He met
me at the door and embraced me as affection
alely as il had been the prodlgal son and he
| my highly respectable father.
81 love everybody To- day. my dear Etienne,"
| he burst out. Il embraced Mother Babel, the
| janitress, when she brought Inc my milk this
| morning"
"PaIbleui You must be In rosy humor,"
| said l. "but hope you have good news for me-
| TO accommodate you l broke off within two
ruugs OF the top OF the climax ia my new story"
Good news!" cried Duportail. rubbing his
| hands gleefully. "Well, walt ill you hear. You
| know, my dear Etenne, what Pye fondly
dreamed of doing since / made a name in the
world OF art, what long 10 undertake while Pm
| young and full of poetic frenzy"
Eyes, yes, KNOW was my rather Indifferent
reply; TO paint Diana"
l a tone of almost reverence. One OF those
| beautiful White creatures which the Greek pO cts
| made their gods fail in love with; eyebrows fuil
| and straight, color of Turkish tobacco, cheeks
| firm and while, with a look even In midday as II
| the moon were shining upon them, lips pale pink
| bow-shaped and parted, eyes unlike anything
| human, tu + soft aud uncertain light. look
ing at you without seeing, YOU in short, woman
| with soul but pulse"
| caught my breath.
"Ah, my dear boy" he continued, "what Is
art without nature? You know how I've
| suffered, how many thousand times / have
| thought had discovered such woman only to
| find that she was like all the rest OF them,
| human, human, human But at last / have
| found her. Nay, don't start that way. l have
| found her, but she has been in this very studio,