The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1891-06-19

powerful oTue eyes, ana na1r UlacK, or
nearly so, which he wore longer than
was common, so that it carried about his
neck. His manner was grave and, for a
young man, impressive; he was laconic
in speech, observant, and beneath
quiet exterior, impressionable. He kept
his face, including his upper lip, close
shaven. You might have taken him for
atragedian, or for clergyman-except
that his costume was incompatible with
the latter character. He affected some
what Of the brigand style of dress; in
doors, velvet; outdoors, long capped
overcoat and broad brimmed hat.
People turned to look at him as he
stalked along the street. Fashionable
men of his own age said he was con-
ceited ass. Girls thought him delicious
ly romantic and did not know how to
talk to him." Married women COM
monty dismissed him as unavailable for
social purposes, with the reservation
that he would be all right if he became
famous His brother artists, without
expressing much personal affection for
him, admitted his talent. This mag
nanimity came the easier to them, be-
cause the world had not yet discovered
how really remarkable his talent was.
One had to know something to appre-
ciate it. He could do things in painting
that others tried, but failed to do. He
had faculties, II perception, an indie
pendence of vision given to few. He
was not incapable of producing work
of genius. No doubt he was eonceited;
young men of exceptional powers are apt
to be SO, and unlike lower class of vain
men are at no pains to conceal it. In
addition he had the artistic tempera-
ment, which, lovely in itself, is rem
dered aggressive and extravagant by the
stolid hostility of convention. To make
an end of this catalogue of his qualities
he was sensitive and high tempered. He
came of good New England stock, and
he had an income which enabled him to
pay for his board and lodging and the
rent of his studio, even when his por-
traits did not pay. But for the last year
or two they had begun to pay tolerably
well.
Olympia herself had artistic tenden-
! cies, and ON Darke's first introduction to
her they soon fell into a conversation
that interested both of them. He ad-
mired her because he had never before
been able to express himself to woman
so fully and huently, and she liked him
because he had something in him and
was different from other men. Olympia's
beauty took his artistic eye and he i'm
! agined himself painting her. In half an
! hour he had told her of his desire to do
So Olympia at first laughed and passed
it over, but the topic came up again
whenever they met, and at length, as
aforesaid, she conceived the plan of hav-
ing her portrait done for Cousin Harry.
She made confdante of her mother,
and the arrangement for sittings was
made and punctually carried out. Darke
was delighted; he had never done such
good work; he had ''found himself. .
He had also found what was more serious
that he was in love. But Olympia was
supposed to be the destined heir of her
cousins fortune, the latter having no
nearer relatives, and Darke did not like
to appear in the guise of a fortune hunter.
This situation, familiar in fiction and
not unknown in real life, continued un.
til the epoch of our story. The portrait,
born of the love of art and nourished
by human love, was all but completed.
Darke had never declared himself, but
he believed that should he do so he would
have chance. Finally, with the last
sitting and possible cessation of their
intercourse in prospect, he felt that now
or never he must take step. In the
ordinary American course of things he
should have addressed himself in the
first instance to Olympia herself, But
his pride counseled him to make all at.
tack upon her guardians; that is, upon
Mrs Raven and Harry Trent. AS re.
garded the former, however, he reflected
that she was person of feeble charac
ter, dominated both by her daughter and
by Trent, and that she would be sure, il
approached, to refer the suitor to that
gentleman. To Trent, therefore, he de
cided to betake himself. If Trent &C
quiesced the posture of the affair would
be hopeful, and Darke would not be rea
sonably obnoxious to the fortune hunt
ing charge.
At half-past ten o'clock on the morn
ing of the twenty-sixth of February tn,
studio bell rang and Olympia and hel
mother entered. Keppel Darke rose from
the sofa on which he had been lying an6
stood before them. His face was pale
his hair disheveled and his eyes dry and
heavy. His expression was gloomy and
distressed. Owing to lack of sleep, a
painful emotion or some other cause, h,
seemed dazed and hardly to know wha
he was about. He replied to Olympia'i
cheerful greeting only with troubled
stare and an inarticulate murmur.
81 am afraid Mr.. Darke is not well
my DEAR" said Mrs. Raven in an under
tone. In fact, the good lady thought h,
had been acting as young men will some
times act durinp the nipht and was moi