Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1893-07-07
THE MODEL FOR SUNSHINE"

the quiet, satisfied air of a man who
knows his work is well done.
"Come and look at it, Hester. Tell me
what you think of Shadow"
The tired sitter rose from her chair and
came round in front of the easel. Weari-
ly she pushed the heavy weight of chest
nut hair off her pale forehead, and gazed
long and earnestly into the dull, dusky
eyes of the picture. They were like her
own, never CLEAN of brightness in their
shadowy depths; only that earnest, patient
look, full of gloom and darkness.
docs it please you, sir?"
eyes, Hester-and you?'
81 think it is like me-" answered the
girl, signing. Then she gathered up that
mass of dark hair that the painter had dis
ture, and turning slowly away, asked him,
''Do you need me any longer?'
''Not today, thank you"
Hester Deane went away from the old
farmhouse parlor that the artists ingenu-
ity had converted into a temporary studio,
and proceeded to take up the burden of
life again. They were very happy hours,
those she passed in that shady old room
while the magic touches of the painters
brush transferred her pale features to Lis
canvas-happy, because they were quiet.
But this burden of life pressed sore upon
Hester's shoulders, and the lash that drove
her on from one arduous duty to another
never rested.
Hesters home was an old farm house in
New England, perched upon a bleak New
Hampshire hill Her only companion was
the invalid step-mother, whose bitter
tongue stung her quivering soul with
wounds no less hard to bear because the
instrument that inflicted them was so con-
temptibe. Her father was a good man,
but cold and hard as the rocks that sur
rounded his humble dwelling; and Jim,
the only other member of the family, was
thoughtless boy, whose mischief and
carelessness made Hester many an extra
hour of labor.
In the shadow her life had lain, this Girl
with the low, broad forehead, behind which
was stored an education that would have
enabled man long ago to achieve comfort
and independence. Here in this old, brown
farm house she lived and worked, unwarm-
ed by love, uncheered by sympathy, until
the GOODNESS and the gloom settled into her
dark eyes, dulled their beauty, and cut
deep burrows in the fair pale forehead.
Hester Deane was twenty-four The
neighbors said she was thirty, she had
been lonely old maid so long. Hester
bowed her head and did not contradict
them.
This was the girl whom Henry Spencer.
the famous portrait-painter met as he was
wandering among the trout streams of New
Hampshire. Her shadowy face. draped in
the dull gray twilight, met him one night
as he was returning to his lodgings, and
the desire seized him to fasten its dull
beauty on his canvas and take it back with
An int
easy thing among these honest country
folk, and he was soon established as a
lodger at the old farm house, where every
chance was seized upon to add to the
scanty living that was wrung with so much
labor from the stubborn soil
Poor Hester shuddered when in family
conclave the question was decided to take
a lodger," for she knew how much it
would add to her care. Then when the
demand came upon her to sit for her por-
trait, Hester was bewildered. Where
should she find the time? But she did
find it, and those long sittings gave her the
rest she so much needed. She was less
tired-poOr Hester although she knew
it not.
Now the picture was finished, and Hes
ters first thought upon its conclusion was
the weeks ironing, that yet remained a
damp and wrinkled mass in the great
clothes-basket. Thus it was that she turn
ed so YEARLY away from the fair portrait
of herself in the paror to face this burden
of uncongenial labor that waited for her in
the kitchen.
Henry Spencer looked after her as she
passed out of his sight, and over the gen.
tie face of the artist came an expression of
tender pity Then he looked at the picture
the fine eyes, with the dull cloud in their
depths-and the fancy came to him, 81
will paint another picture, and call it Sun
Shine"
AS Hester was standing at the kitchen
door that evening the artist came and took
his place by her side. chester, want a
companion piece for Shadow viii you
help me find model?'
"Will not Bessie May do, sir?'
The artist shook his head as he thought
of the belle of the neighboring village,
with crimped locks and simpering smile.
''No, no, Hester; not Bessie"
II do not know any other, sir"
"There is no hurry; l shall find her if
you will help me. But l mean to rest for
a while first
Hester looked at him. Rest What
did he know of work, this prosperous
man, whose brush was the magic wand that
brought golden shower around him, like |
the water that rushed from the rock at the !
touch of Moses's rod?
eyes, Hester, rest. l know it makes |
you smile-a lazy man like me. But not |
another stroke of work shall my paint |
brush do until"
"Until what, sir?'
"Until have found the model for Sun
shine"
He was standing close to her now, and |
the bright winning smile that won the |
hearts of all who knew him woke an echo |
in Hester's heart, for the clouds lifted a |
little, and she smiled back at him.
"When do you think you will find her?"
81 fancy 1 see her coming in the dis
lance even now"
"Whom is she like?''
"Did you ever read Tom Moore, Hes
ter?"
Poor Hester! the only poets she had ev-
er studied were such cheerful singers as
Milton and Cowper and DR.. Young-vol-
umes lent her by the minister, who would |
not have allowed the presence of line
written by the merry Irish bard in his
house.
She shook her head