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


clearness Of her face was iumined by that
curious white light which comes to some faces
and which means so much more than color
care happv women so very rare?" she asked.
yes" was the brief reply.
ooh" exclaimed Salome, II can't believe
that"
Cant you? That shows that my impress
sion Of you Is correct. But don't you thlhK we
are talking very unconventionally?
VERY. But that's the way like to talk.
Salome was somewhat confused with the de-
light Of being so suddenly and informally with
this woman whom she had admired afar OF
on those two brief occasions when she had Deeh
with her. And she wondered that she felt so
much at home.
And it's the way I like to talk, too said
Mrs. Bradford. That's the reason I'm not a
good society woman"
But you are-you You are my ideal
society woman" exclaimed Salome.
"Your praise is very sweet" said Mrs. Brad
ford letting her delighted eyes rest upon her
companion, but you are wrong nevertheless
There are a hundred people here in Boston who
would tell you so. l have never learned what
to say: but sometimes know what not to say"
"My husband thinks" here Salome paused
shyly She had just recalled that an acquain-
/
she really must stop informing people as to
what her husband said thought; that she
| must remember that the world at large was
| not at all interested to know what were Ran
| dolph Moore's opinions about anything Ran
dolph Moore's wife had acknowledged that this
must be true; but in the bottom OF her heart
she could not help plying those poor people VINO
| had no chance of knowing what Moore's con-
| illusions were upon different topics.
"What is it that your husband Thinks" In
| ouired Mrs Bradford with such an appearance
| of interest that Saome forgot how she had been
| warned, and replied enthusiastically
| He believes that it is of great deal more I'M
| portance to know what not to say.
| In that case l need not be discouraged,
was the response.
"Oh Mrs. Bradford don't laugh at me.
| know it is silly to quote Mr.. Moore so much'
mo: it's delightful"
IT'S delightful to me- was the charmingly
candid response and Saome hardly knew why
| her companion laughed with such amusement.
After that there was another silence which
was not broken until the carriage stopped be-
| fore a house i'm that old part of the city where
| there is something besides "stye'; where, In
| short there is that true flavor of Boston which
| is at once so penetrating and so charming.
To Salome who staying at a new and
| what might almost be called a shining hotel
| in new Boston. this locality had a lock of some
| thing very nearly like shabbiness. Still she
could not tell why she liked 1t so well. She sup
| posed however that it was because 1t was
| where Mrs Bradford lived. Mrs. Bradford was
certainly one Of the real kind-the real Boston
kind.
| Salome had not yet discovered that this lady
| had only belonged to the real kind some half
| a dozen years: and that she was in truth
| even now no more than a country girl like Sa-
| lome-no more, only, perhaps, a great deal
| different.
When the door opened to them the elder
| woman remarking that they would go directly
| to the studio, led the way to the rear OF the
house to what is technically called an "ex-
| tension" Here was a small room with north
| ern aspect.
Having closed the door. Mrs. Bradford threw
| off her wrap and bonnet and began removing
her gloves with some appearance OF eagerness'
| She walked about as she did So
"I'm so glad | met YOU" she said again. Il
was thinking Of trying to find out your address
1t is possible that l should have been 50 bold
az IN call on YOU. That would have been
| proper, of course, but"
| Il am not in your set" said Salome as her
hostess paused Il don't know a single human
| being
| thought that l could ever enter mouse IKE
| this, where-where-
Here she also paused before the vastness Of
| her subject Her eyes shone. She openly
gazing about her at the pictures set against the
| walls. at the canvas on the easel at the casts
| and busts and draperies. 1t was not an elegant
| studio like the scene Of the pastime OF a woman
| to whom to be here was merely a pastiIne. 1t
| was real workshop. as Saome felt she had
not expected this. She had supposed she would
be brought to place that was fitted up beau
tifully, and where the artist amused herself
| 1t is true that there was nothing here that
swore at anything else, that there was kind
| Of unconscious harmony. but it plainly
| merely a workshop. and not the lounging place
| of a woman who was but indulgng fad.
where" said Mrs. Bradford, taking up her
guests remark, "the very cobwebs are cob
| webs Of old Boston families, and are like the
same thing on wine bottles brought up from
the properest wine cellar.
She had thrown off her gloves on her wrap.
and was taking the half finished picture from
the easel that she might put plain canvas
there.
Yes" said Salome 81 think that must be
exactly what was going to say only my rever-
ence you know. prevented me-
Naturally. Now please take off your hat.
Run your fingers through your hair on your
forehead; or permit me to do 1t. There. All,
truly I'm in luck L suppose in the days when
gods and goddesses came down occasionally
from Olympus, there were to be seen faces on
this earth like yours. But not since then. No.
not since them surely"
The speaker stepped back few PAGES gazing
with earnestness at the face before her. She
| returned to her easel The fresh canvas was
in place. She took clean palette on her thumb
and a brush in her hand, and stepped back
again, looking at her sitter at different angle
There was flush on Mrs Bradfords cheeks
and steady glow in her eyes. Salome, contem-
plating her. could not understand 1t in the least
OF course a woman like that could do good
work. But as for her, Randolph Moore's wife
we'll she could not imagine anything unconnect-
~ RandQlrh Moore fhat coiild excite 90