The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1892-09-15
THE LILAC WITCH.
An Artists Alteration for His Won
derful Masterpiece.

an Artists Alteration for His Won
derful Masterpiece.
ut can't be as bad as that, Sophie
rlnst your father have twenty thou
sand frames by the first of January?"
Yes, Henri, or else"-her lip
quivrrcd little-''or else the mort
gage will be forecloscd and father will
lose I'll his land, and we shall be home
less
Not if I am around!' said Henri,
stou:ly.
Sophie looked proudly at him and
then around at the wall of the studio
What n artist Henri Was!
She came to him and laying her hand
gently on his shoulder, gazed sadly into
his eyes and said:
u know, Henri, know. But then
yOu are poor now"
- will rse-get a picture into the
Salon make money"
IVES, dear, but if papa loses all his
property, and BESIDES and her gray
eyes grew moist ana she looked visit
fully away.
AMI bcsides?" repeated Henri, with
anxious inquiry.
"Anl. besides, papa has been limiting
ut the marriage proposals of Jean
bertrand, an old playmate of mine,
who o>i'ers to pay off all the mortgage
on the day OF his betrothal to me-"
$40 you, Sophie! you don't mean that
you / hat your father"
Sophie looked down sadly at a pair of
neat little feet.
'l'cnri, you know I love you, and
that have promised faithfully to be
your wife; but think of poor papa, and
think Of all owe him-oughtn't / to
tie ready to make any sacrifice to save
him from ruin?''
Then they both looked sadly away in
silence. Suddenly Henri squeezed So
phie's hand so hard that she started
violently
'Wait. Sophie!:' he exclaimed. ''I've
got d plan! We, you and !, can earn
that twenty thousand"
Yes, yes; how?'
"Why, you be my model, and I'll
paint you."
''oh, will You? But-but you couldn't
sell picture of me for twenty thousand
trHncs.'
In answer Henri drew her before a
\ittle square mirror, hung between the
two " indows, and made her look at her
own reflection.
''Sce there, Sophie! just look at your
eyes, are they not the deepest gray,
with golden lights in them? and are
not your lips as red as this carmine?
and just see that little pointed chin!
how could paint that! and those pink
cheeks-fresh as baby's!'
Sophie began to blush at Henri's en-
thu>iasm, and, turning from the glass,
looked into his dark face, which was
lit up with the glow of an almost poetic
inspiration.
And, you know" he went on,
''somrthing tells me that shall paint
.7"n better than ! ever painted any
ihinS before-that you will be my
muse, my inspiration. You must wear
a loosely fitting lilac-very soft lilac
robe. and you will have your hair
down, hanging over your left shoulder
which will peep through your curls like
white dove in a golden cage. And
You must hold a spray of lilacs in your
hand and be reclining under lilac
bash, and Ill call you the Lilac Witch.
Didn't you ever hear of the legend of
the Lilac Witch? Grandma used to love
to tell me about her: she was verv
beautiful fairy and men came around
to catch smile from her red lips, and
the man she smiled on was made bold
10 Dc high deeds; but if his heart was
.lra'n away to another woman, in
mon lent she spoiled all he had done,
and made beggarly wretch of him.
Besides, you know, the lilac will go so
we'll with your complexion and hair
and eyes
Ard SO it was planned. The sittings
were daily. Sophie was very patient
model, and Henri was full of inspira-
ton and worked with a certainty of
success. He made studies of her face
in all possible moods and expressions,
till Ivy culling what was most entrance
ing in each, he began to create an ideal.
He threw the whole vigor of his poetic
soul into his work, striving to get that
longing, inspiring look in the large
grn! eyes which, mingled with an ex.
preston, half of pity, half of triumph,
in the rest of the face, WIS to make up
the :deal of the Lilac Witch. lie found
the look of longing and inspiration in
Sophie's eyes, but the pity and triumph
that divine mixture of pride 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
couid see how tired she was. His own
face 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
apa<e. 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
~.
Very good for NJ. Bertrand,' he
said. But have something to tell
you. Something splendid-superb,"
and he kissed his hand with theatrical
gesture.
'Oh! what is it?'' exclaimed Sophie.