The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1892-09-16

that divine mixture of prids IN vic
tory and sorrow for the conquered
were wanting. BY his own talent Henri
created them, inspired by his love and
the prize set before him.
One day in December he was work
ing away with his brush while Sophie
reclined on the models platform. He
could see how tired she was. His own
fRce showed that, but for the indomit-
able fire in his black eyes, he would
have given out long ago. But the day
of foreclosing the mortgage drew on
apace. Still to-day was happy day
Henri had surprise for Sophie, and as
he occasionally searched his palette for
colors, the corners of his mouth
twitched with his suppressed secret.
Sophie was just saying how Jean
Bertrand kept repeating his offer to her
father, and how, as the days went by
and the first of January approached,
her father seemed more and more in
clined to accept Henry smiled sweet
ly.
Very good for NJ Bertrand" he
said. But | have something to tell
you. Something splcndid--superb,' -
and he kissed his hand with theatrical
gesture.
''Oh! what is it?" exclaimed Sophie,
jumping up and spelling the folds OF
her carefully-arrangcd drapery.
Henry forgave her that for the
sake Of the news Then he told her
how the agent OF an oil magnate, Just
over from America, was looking all
over Paris for paintings of beautiful
women; how he had seen the Lilac
Witch" now nearly finished, and how
he had, with an Americans extrava-
gance, offered the fabulous sum of thir-
ty thousand francs That ended the
sitting for that day, for Sophie insisted
on taking Henri at once to her father
telling him the news. and making him
break off all further negotiations with
Jean Bertrand.
And it was so arranged. Henri was
to pay off the mortgage as soon as the
picture was transferred, keeping the
surplus of ten thousand to start life
with Sophie, while her father dismissed
Jean Bertrand, with the precautionary
hint that, in case the American should
fail them he would Immediately accept
Bertrand's Offer
1t was the evening before the great
day when the picture was to be for
mally sold, the thirty thousand francs
handed over, and Henri and Sophie
married. Henri was in the studio,
standing before the picture. In one
hand he held lighted cigarette, in the
other an acutely pointed paint brush.
He was scrutinizing the face of his be-
loved Lilac Witch with look of in
tense exultation. Every now and then
he would make an infinitesimal stroke
with the brush, after which he would
take long pull at the cigarette, let
ting the smoke slowly exude from his
mouth and nose in a manner that be-
spoke keen satisfactio on. He was put
ting on what he called the last
touches before he said goodnight to the
picture and went to ca II on Sophie. He
looked at his watch. 1t was already past
nine and ne had promised to be there
at eight. Still there were only few
more tiny touches needed and then he
would 60 He lit cigarette after cigar
cite, he walked up and down the room.
changed the lamps and surveyed the
painting from twenty different points
of view. Finally he seemed satisfied,
threw down the brush, drew a sofa up
in front of the easel and Law there,
watching the witch's face with low
er's rapture. His chest heaved, his
eyes grew bright, the muscles round
his mouth softened into an expression
of supreme delight.
Suddenly he started and looked at
his watch. 1t was twelve o'clock and
he had forgotten, and Sophie had prob
ably gone to bed, wondering why he
never came. He blamed himself for
being so thoughtless.
This changed the current of his
thoughts, reminding him that to-mor-
row he married Sophie and they would
always live together; bright smile lit
up his face, but it was a commonplace
smile compared to his look of a few sec
onds ago Yes; tomorrow Sophie would
be his, and they would come and pay him
thirty thousand francs and take away
the Lilac Witch" Lilac Witch?"
Why, of course; he had only pa tinted it
for the sake OF marrying Sophie.
Henri looked away from the picture.
with dull ache at his heart. Some
how, life with Sophie, when the Lilac
Witch" was gone, did not seem so
sweet as it used to in the old DAYS
when they had the first sittings. Then
the picture only meant to him the por-
trait of his dear Sophie. Now, when
he was gazing into that fair. arch face
on the canvas, so triumphant and vet
sopitying and tender, he never thought
of its being Sophie's face at all. He
seemed to see there something that was
all his own and had come out of his
own soul. How could he bear to part
with it? But he was winning Sophie
by giving it up, A horrible doubt came
to him. What if after all he should
love the picture better than the model?
He shook his head resolutely, and
went to bed. All that night in his
dreams that awful doubt tormented
him.
On the morrow Sophie appeared be-
fore the hour of the business transac-
ton so rs to tidy up the studio and make