The Ohio Democrat. (Logan, O. [Ohio]) 1886-1906, 1892-09-17

bophle was Just saying now 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 l have something to tell
you. Something splendid-superb,"
and he kissed his hand with a theatrical
gesture.
"oh! what is it?" exclaimed Sophie,
jumping up and spelling the folds Of
her carefully-arrange 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 Amerlcan's 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 a 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 infnitesimal 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 satisfacti 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 he had promised to be there
at eight. Still there were only few
more tiny touches needed and then he
would go. 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 lay there,
watching the witch's face with a 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; a bright smile lit
up his face, but it was commonplace
smile compared to his look Of 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 painted it
for the sake of marrying Sophie.
Henri looked away from the picture,
with dull ache ct 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 yet
SO pitying 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
tion so as to tidy up the studio and make
it look more festive. She found Henri
there before the picture as usual. He
had wheeled the easel up near the
window and was devouring the paint
ing with his eyes. He never so much
as turned his head to greet her. He
saw there, on bank of moss, half sit
ting, half reclining, beautiful woman
the image of his sweetheart, yet wear
ing an intangible something about the
eyes and mouth, something that Henri
with feelings of misgiving, felt that
Sophie had not, The wavy, light brown
hair, hanging in ringlets over the bare
shoulder, and the vermeil tint of the
pure cheek, were simply a clever copy
of Sophie's charms. But in the gray
eyes was a look that seemed to tell of {
great, unsatisfied longing, for love-or
perhaps, victory-while the delicate
slightly curving lips had tender, pity
ing expression that was strangely con
tradicted by the pointed chin, which
bodied forth a scornful joy of triumph
perhaps the very triumph which the
eyes we're longing for, and whose vic
tim the mouth pitied. The very com
positeness of the face, full of contradic
tions, was the origin of it's charm,