New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1893-10-08

on it, It's not much the color now as the
drawing DO you mind looking directly at me?
Yes, like that. 1t is not necessary for me to
ask you to put on a pleasant expression Let us
talk Have you been in town long? Has any
one asked you how you like Boston,
eve been in town about three months. Yes,
every one has asked me how like Boston,
And what do you tell them
Mrs. Bradford making rapid strokes. and
then drawing back to look at them and at the
woman in the chair in front of her
II tell them that if Boston were only in the
South somewhere, Boston would be Paradise
Yes" responded Mrs. Bradford absenty. She
was making some touches and was absorbed In
considering their effect. In moment she APP
peared to come back to the realization of some
thing or somebody being present with her.
you seem to love the South, Mrs. Moore
she said.
'Oh. yes love IT.
Perhaps it was there that you first met Mr.
Moore?"
The speaker looked at her companion and
smiled encoura gingly. This smile somehow went
straight to Salome's heart
Eyes; did meet him there" she answered.
II understand" was the response.
Pardon me. Mrs Bradford. but don't think
Moore should love the South Just as well. But
you make me talk about myself. | don't think
one ought TO talk about oneself, do YOU
THAT depends"
Another silence. which was broken by an eN-
camation from the artist:
''If can only get your eyes
They're hazel" explanatory responded Sa-
lone.
"Oh. I don't mean the color-I mean the cx-
preston
Silence again. Salomc found that she was
gazing directly at her companion. whether they
talked together or not. She was becoming more
and more Interested She smiled to herself as
she thought of bringing her husband to see
this picture And Mrs. Bradford would know
directly she saw him that it was perfectly rea-
sonable for her Salomc To be so happy
In a few moments the artist sat down In a
chair in front Of the easel. She still kept her
palette on her thumb. and occasionally she
touched her brush To some Of the pigments WIN
an absorbed air. She seemed not to be really
present: and yet she still appeared kcehIy III
terested I'm the work she had begun
She noticed that It was when Mrs. Moore was
quiet and her face in rcpose that 1t wore mos;
strongly the expression she wished to depict.
II was then that the eyes had that look OF in
tense happiness that SO strangely strikes the
beholder with "A kind Of terror. Is 1t that we
instantly say TO ourselves that no human be-
ing has a right to be so happy as that! 1hat
to be thus happy is but TO make oneself Il
mark for the gods to aim at?
II Is true. however. that few Of us poor NOR
tails are capable Of this kind Of rapture when to
live is an ccstacy; when To know that for US
there are eyes whose glance gives MS what we
ask il to know everything that We long t. know
This is the kind of happiness that To the OBJ
server suggests the deepest pathos-if he under
stands It, II he does not understand 1t he calls
II abnormal and passes on to that lower grade
Of enjoyment which he does understand. and
which is therefore strictly normal. and to be
tolerated.
Eut Mrs Bradford understood IT, And per-
hans that is why she should feel the tears 50
near her eyes when she met her companions
glance.
All ut once she laid down her tools
Il can't paint any more to-day" she said. with
something like abruptncss But have made
beginning If you viii come tomorrow at ten
I'm the morning or Is II too much 20 ask? Do
seem prcsumptuous?" She held out her hand
Salome put her own hand in that extended 20
her.
MAY / look at it," with recurrence Of
shvness. She had been thinking that she had
| been unwarrantably familiar with this lady.
who lived in what she now called TO herself
the most cobwebby part Of Boston.
Eyes, you may see H."
Salome walked with some hesitation In front
Of the easel
"Ohw she said softly. She turned a wonder
ing gaze at her companion.
"Do look like that" she exclaimed. But
that is impossible That is-why-AIrs. Brad
ford that is going to be beautiful. And ! am
very plain. ! have always been plain"
Have you?" with smiling incrcdulity.
Truly have always thought so. And how
! have you done so nuch IN thls noun! IL seems
! like a miracle
81 thought ! could catch the likeness tho mo-
mont 7 saw YOU on Summer-st. this morning.
and have been at work'-shc took her
watch from her bclt-"I have been at work al
most two hours. You have inspired me, Mrs.
Moore Do You like it,
She stood with her guest and contemplated
the canvas, her own face glowing with that eX-
hilaration which comes from working when the
conditions are right
you know I haven't good feature in my
face" murmured Salomc. looking at the picture.
Haven't YOU" Mrs Bradford said. az before
she had said, "IIave you?'
mo- that is. my mirror tells me So
every well; we wont quarrel with your mirror
mot to-day; though might speak OF your eyes
and mouth Still. If a face is not actually de-
! formed, features count for very little"
you, an artist. say that|'
eyes certainly. and I love form as well as
| any one. Come, let us have some lunch"
Mrs. Bradford led the way back into the
house. They sat down in the dnngroo be-
fore a lunch which Saome afterward described
appropriate to be served in Mrs. Bradford $
house. This rather an indefinite dcscrip-
ton but It seemed to be all that Salome was
able to give The two were alone. Once when
Salome hearing footsteps in the hall, glanced
expectantIy at the door, her hostess said:
"Mr Bradford is out Of town. you would
meet him. Tonight / shall present him to my
sketch Of you. | shall have an unprecedented
| criticism In one sense. For he has neXer senn