River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1892-01-21

bowls of flowers, its plants and books
and feminine trifles- II wonder
ho!y IL is some women seem to lend in
dividuality TO their surroundings The
studio has never looked the same since
she left"
He paused and laid down the sketch.
The usual gayety and brightness of his
face was subdued and Swallowed.
"I-well, it's no good to dwell on it
all now" he said, abruptly. .0f course
/ fell madly in love with her. Who
could help it? bet any of you fellows
here would have done the same.
neglected work. | could only moon
and dream and follow her about, when
she let me, which am bound to say
was not very often. I'm sure used to
bore Trenoweth considerably at that
time. though he was very patient And
she was just the same always: calm,
friendly. gracious. absorbed in her
work. and to all appearances uncon-
scious of what mischief her presence
had wrought. As the third month
drew near TO its end grew desperate.
I thought she avoided me; she never
let me into the studio now, and must
confess had a great curiosity to see
the picture. But she laughingly evaded
all my hints. and would only receive
me at the farmhouse. believe Tren-
weth was equally unsuccessful
AT last | could stand it no longer /
spoke ont and told her the whole truth.
OF course" and he laughed somewhat
bitterly, sit was no use. If she had
been nv mother or my sister she could
not have been more serenely gracious,
more pitiful or more surprised. II
had made fool of myself, as we men
call it, and all to no purpose. 1t was
maddening. but l knew it was hope
less. j had almost known il before my
desperate confession. / couldn't bear
to see her again. / felt l hated the
place, il was so full of memories. So,
suddenly, without a word to Treno-
weth or herself, l packed up my traps
and started off on a sketehing tour
/ through Cornwall When / came back,
/ the studio was closed, and Trenoweth
had gone away. The man left in charge,
and who made the arrangements for
letting them, told me that new rule
had been made by the landlord. They
were never to be let to women artists.
That is all my part of the story. This
this sketch is only the figure / re-
member. She was standing once just
| like that, looking at the wall of the
studio. as if to her it was peopled with
/ life, and form. and color. II was
/ fancying myself at the academy she
said to me, as asked her at what she
was gazing, at the academy, and my
picture on the line i do not know if
she ever attained her ambition" he
added. II have never seen or heard of
her since"
He glanced at Jasper Trenoweth,
who silently held out his hand for the
sketch.
For moment silence reigned
throughout the room. The eyes of all
were on the bent head and sad, grave
face of the man VINO sat there before
them, his thoughts apparently far
away, so far that he seemed to have
forgotten his promise to finish the
story which Denis O'Hara had begun.
At last he reused himself There is
not much more to add he said, slow
| IT, And all that Denis has said of
Musette DelapOrte is true. and more
than true. She was one of those
women who are bound to leave their
mark on a mans life and memory.
After Denis left so abruptly saw very
little of her. She seemed restless.
troubled and disturbed. Her mind
was absorbed in the completion of
her picture. and that unrest
and dissatisfaction which is ever
the penalty of enthusiasm had
now taken the place of previous hope
fulness. If it should fall she said to
me. oh, you don't know what that
would mean. You don't know what
have staked on it,
still she never offered to show il to
me. and / would not presume to ask.
kept away for several days, thinking
she was best undisturbed. All artists
have gone through that phase of ex-
perience which she was undergoing II
Is scarcely possible to avoid it, if, in
deed, one has any appreciation for or
love of art in ones nature.
AT last one day / walked down to
the studio. | knocked az the door.
There was no answer. / turned the
handle and entered. In the full light
of the sunset. as IL streamed through
the window, stool the easel, lowered
no longer. and feeling me, as | paused
on the threshold, was the picture. /
stood there too amazed TO speak or
move. 1t was magnificent If / had
not known that only a woman's hand
had converted that canvas into a living,
/ breathing history / could not have
/ believed it. There was nothing crude
, or weak or feminine about It The
/ power and force of genius spoke out
/ like n living voice. and seemed to de-
mand the homage IL 50 grandly chal-
| lenged. Suddenly became aware of
sound in the stillness-the low.
stifled sobbing of woman. I saw her
| then. thrown face downwards on the
couch at the farthest end of the room,
her face buried in the cushions, her
whole frame trembling and convulsed
with passion of grief. oh. Mauricer
she sob0ed. and then again only that
name-'Maurice. Maurice, Maurice"
Il closed the door softly, and went
away There seemed to me something
sacred in thissrief IL could not in
/ trude on IL She was so near TO fame.
/ She held so great a gift, and vet she
lay weeping her heart out yonder, like
/ the weakest and most foolish of her
sex. for-well. what could / think, but
/ that il was for some mans sake?"
lie paused, his voice seemed little
less steady, little less cold
''On the morrow" he said. abruptly,
/ she was gone, leaving note of fare
well. and-and thanks for me. / felt
momentary disappointment. ] should
| Ike To have said farewell to her, and it
was strange. too. how much | missed
her and Denis The loneliness and
quiet of my life grew more than lonely
as the DAYS went ON, and | at last made
up my mind to go TO London. Whether
by chance or purpose found myself
there on the day the academy opened
All who are artists know what that
day means for them well, was