The Kootenai herald. [volume] (Kootenai, Idaho) 1891-1904, 1891-11-21


matter with them, their heads droops"
otis because they are sleeping, sig
nor; when the sun comes out bri ghter
they will open their little golden eyes.
See what fine bunch this is; that in the
center call the queen and the others are
paying court to her."
"A pretty idea, Beatrice; | will take
the lilies and the roses also; can you not
tell me some story about themT'
And so Paul CORTLAND talked IN; it
was not the face nor the passionate
beauty of the great Italian eyes that
charmed him now; in their place he felt
the influence of the low, musical voice
and the childlike artlessness of her ways.
This was but one of the many visits he
paid her; nearly every morning he would
meet her at the old ruined wall, and grad
ually Beatrice began to look for his COM
ing-it made the day seem less long
When at last he asked her to pose as
model for him she did not think of refus-
ing; shewas glad to please thesignor, who
had been so kind to her. He wanted to
paint the flower girl as he had first seen
her on that summer evening, asleep un-
der wondrous southern sky. So each
morning she would come to his studio
for while, wearing the pretty scarlet
peasant dress with some green ivy trail
ing across the skirt. The young English
man worked harder than he had ever
done before; perhaps the great beauty Of
his model inspired him, for when the
picture that was to bring him fame and
fortune stood at last completed the
painter felt he could say of his own work
that it was good.
Come here, Beatrice" he said, ''and
tell what you think of it,"
IF you like it, signor, then it pleases
me; but what will become of it now that
it is all finished? 1t is really very fine,
that picture Of ours" and she nodded her
head in solemn approval
He smiled a little at the evident pride
she took in ''that picture of ours" and
then he answered her question.
The world shall have it, Cara Mia, If
it pays good round price, but the little
model-she looked so pretty he could not
resist saying twill belong to me?' and
he held his hand out to her as he spoke.
Trustingly, confdingly, the young
Italian gave him hers, and Paul Court
land raised it to his lips.
Every WELL" he said, remember you
promised" and then, changing his tone,
lit is time for you to go now, Beatrice,
but first let me give You present for
being such good child and holding SO
still"
He went to cabinet and, taking out
a tiny sapphire frame, replaced the por-
trait it contained of French lady with
one of his own.
''This, and he laughed as he gave it
to her, sis poor exchange for yours.
Ado till tomorrow"
"How kind you are, signor. / can
never thank you enough, and the dark
eyes shone with pleasure as she left the
studio.
1T is only the jewels that delight
her." he said comfortably to himself as
he closed the door, 'but she is a dear,
good little thing, and / must be careful
for her sake as well as my own. How
foolish have been for the last few DAYS.
came to Florence to make my fortune.
not to fall in love with the first pretty
face met. Beautiful Beatrice! would
not like to make her unhappy, and she
trusts me 80. But as yet there's no harm
done she is only child and cares no
more for me than for her." He felt
very noble as he leaned out of the win
dow and called after the retreating fig
ure once more, Ado" This time,
though, he did not add ''till tomorrow"
but forever" The flower girl heard
the first word only.
The next morning Beatrice went to
the ruin at the accustomed hour to sell
her lilies. Noon passed and made way
for evening, but Paul CORTLAND did not
come. The next day and the next, and
finally whole month, crept by; still her
young English lover came not, and the
pretty face grew paler as the weeks
wore on.
She knew nothing had happened to
him, for her sharp eyes had described
him once or twice in the distance. Sure
ly he had not tired Of her? Not he had
told her once that he loved her and he
was too noble, too good, to utter false
hood Perhaps he had been very busy
and had not found time to come; Beatrice
caught at this as last hope.
One sultry afternoon the weary girl
slipped in through the open doorway of
the grand Cathedral Of Florence to find
consolation in prayer; tired out with
watching and waiting she fell asleep.
The mighty peal of the organ at last
aroused her, and looking up she saw
wedding was about to be celebrated.
The scene was one of joy and brilliance;