San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1890-02-18

would or no.
"You must not say such things" he said,
as calmly as he could. you have charmed
the English public as no one else has ever
charmed it, Is that not great thing TO
have donel And if |, who am very fasid-
ious and very captious and over-critical III
hundred ways-if am inclined to think that
part is rather more than you, with your
short dramatic experience, can compass quite
successfully, why, what does it matterl |
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 head with a bitter little
smile NO, no, | snail never forget it.
Your attitude only brought home to me, al
most more strongly than could bear, what
have suspected u long, long tlme-the con-
tempt which people like you and Mr. Wal
lace feel for mel"
'Contenptr cried Kendall, beside himself,
and feeling as if all the criticisms he had
allowed himself to make Of her were recoil-
ing in one avenging mass upon his head. Il
nevec felt anything but the warmest admi-
ration for your courage your work, your
womanly goodness and sweetness"
YES" she SAID. rising and holding out her
aand half uncousciously for her cloak, whic!;
she put round her as though the wood had
Suddenly grown cold, admiration for me as
woman, contempt for me as an artist
There's the whole bare truth. Does it hold
nv future in it. wonder! Is there nothing
II me bat this toaG:y that people talk Of.
and which | sometimes hate"
She swept her hair back from her forehead
with a fierce dramatic gesture. 1t was as
though the self in her was rising up and as
serting itself against the Judgment which had
been passed upon it, as if some 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
| me-you have given me 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 are interested enough in me-What
| is it | want! What is it that seems to be
| threatening me with failure as an artist9
| work all day long; my work is never out Of
| my head, it seems to pursue mo all night
But the more struggle with it the less sue
! CeSSful seem even to myself"
Her look was haunting; there waS despair
| and there was hope in it. ltimplied that she
| had set him up in her impulSive way as a sort
of an oracle who alone could help her out Of
her difficulty In presence of that look his
own conventionality fell away from him, and
ne spoke the plain, direct truth to her
What you want" he said slowly, as if the
words were forced from him, lis knowledge!
London has taught you much, and that is
why you arc dissatisfied with your work-it
is the beginning of all real success. But you
want positive knowledSe-the knowledge
| you could get from books, and the 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 an insight into the world o. ideas lying
round it and about it. You are very young,
and Jou have had to train yourself But
/ every hUnan ar nowadays is 50 complicated
that none of us can get on without using the
great stores of experience others have laid
up for U.s."
1t 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 beer
led on by an instructive dependence upon 6
| great magnanmity of nature in her. AnG
then the next moment the strange OppOsites
the matter held in it flashed across him. lie
saw the crowded theatre, the white figure OF
the stage; his ear seemed to be full of the
! clamor of praise with which London haC
been overwhelming its favOrite. 1t was tC
this spoiled child Of fortune that he had beer
playing the schOolmastcr-hc, one captiOu%
man Of letters, against the world.
But she had not thought of the kind, OF
| rather the situation presented itself 20 her il
exactly the contrary light TO her Kendall
words, instead Of being those of a single
critic, were the voice and the embodiment Of
a hundred cOnverging impressions and sensa
tlons, and she felt relief in having analysed
to the full the vague trouble which had beeI
settling upon her by this unravelng Of hel
| own feelings and his
Il am very grateful to you," she sale
steadily; very. 1t is strange, but almos
when | first saw you | felt that there wa
something OminOuS in you to me. My dream
in WUich have been living has never beel
50 ierfect since, and now think it has gone
Don't look so grieved,n she cried, inexpreSs
IDLY touched by his face. ~ an glad you
told ne all you thought. Il VIII be a help t,
me. And az for poor EIvrra,' she added
trying to smile, for all her c%treme pSleueSS
tell Nh Wallace | give her up | am no
vexed. am not angry. Don't you tAinl
now We had better go back to Mrs Stuart
should like a rest with her before we al
meet again.
She moved forward as she spoke, and il
seemed to Kendall that her step was unsteady
and that she was deadly white He planted
himself before her in the descending patl
and held out hand to help her. She gave
him her own, and he carried it impetuouSly
to his lips.
You are nobleness itseIf!' he cried, from
| tha 6aD+bS nj his bpo,.t 81 fool bcr