Bennington semi-weekly banner. (Bennington, Vt.) 1894-1902, 1895-07-09

hearted Tim OF ola days. Yet with all this
there was subtle alteration. Her dress
was neater and quioter, her touzled hair
was smoothCd more often. She would
creep up to his studio sometimes and stand
there timidly watching him. He painted
as well as he did everything else; there
were power and dramatic force about it
|. that were lacking in the work of most OF
the men of the schools
"You love your worlf' she asked sud.
denly one day as she stood near him.
Glove itE' he exclaimed Eyes, indeed.
What would my life be without it, Tim?"
"You paint well, " she said, with de-
cisive nod of the head.
He laughed quickly.
"Who made you a critic, little one?" he
asked, turning to her.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"They all show me their work. know
the style of each one of them. Some will
never PAINT poor boys! Some take to it
as baby to its mothers milk. But they
all ask mo. l am no critic, but I know
when trees are trees, and when figures and
faces live. My father was an artist hoIe
in the QUARTER"
Gan artist Have you never paintcd"'
She laughed, showing all her white teeth
"Paintcd? Never | have all my work
to do to live. There is no time for that,
even if l could. l assist madame, run
errands, III am many things. But my
father was clever. He would have been
great artist had he lived"
GLOW long has he been dead?" he asked
idly, still painting steadily.
"Soon after l was born. 1t was absinthe
that killed him. | do not remember him.
was baby. But they told me, and he
was very clever. Since"-she shrugged
her shoulders carelessly again-"I have
been here us long us l can remember. Ev-
cry one has been good to me-"
He felt vague and tender pity for the
girl and showed it perhaps in many little
ways, and Tins grateful heart went out
to him in love and loyalty that she had
never felt for any man yet.
He was engaged at that time upon pic
ture for the SalOn-thc picture that after
ward appeared upon its walls and drew I'll
artistic Paris, all the artistic world, in
fact-to gaze upon it in wonder and admi-
ratiOn-thc picture that brought fame and
fortune to the Beauty in one short, glad,
triumphant hour. 1t has scarcely been
forgotten even now. 1t was called "Hunt-
ed' and represented slave girl, with wild,
haggard eyes and atfrightcd face, tearing
through the thorns that had torn her flesh
and clothes and stumbling over the broken
ground of a drcary landscape.
The lurid light of the setting sun was
behind her, topping the dark line Of hills,
and the figures of her pursuers coulG be
discerned far away, black against the fam
ing sky.
The Beauty was very poor at that time
and was working with rcdoublcd energy
at the picturc, for it must be finished by
q certain date, and there was much yet to
do. Perhaps insufficient nourishmcnt and
want of exercise and hard work all told
upon frame that was never of the strong.
est. Certainly the Beauty fell i'll one even
ing, fainting as he laid aside his brushes,
and was in the torments Of II high fever
for many weeks. The friends who heard Of
it and came to see him found Tim with
a white face, installed us nurse. She
promptly ordered them away
"Gct to your work, boys" she said us
she thrust them out Of the door "He
wants a woman here I've nurscd some of
you before; leave me to it now. I'll tell
you if want help. But it is u little
thing"
Surely man was never watched and
tended on this sorrowful earth before nor
since as Tim watched and tended the
Beauty. In all his worst rawlings she never
left him. To the kindly doctor who sug-
gestcd that She must rest she held out Il
firm young hand, and with all her eyes in
the appeal begged that he would test her
pulse.
~ am firm and quiet and strong" she
said steadily. "What more would you
want?'
And the doctor looked perplexed, but
pattcd her check and left her with the
Beauty.
She found that all her patients rawlings
took but ono turn. Whcresocvcr they
might begin they came back always to one
point, and that one point was his unfin-
ished picture. Now it was finished, he
thought, and had been accepted. Again
he would cry bitterly that the days were
passing, and that they were holding him
back from it, and that it would never be
completed in time and he would struggle
to get out of bed even in his awful weak.
ness, to reach the picture.
Tim well knew that the time was short,
anu sho thoughu WIN despair OF inc I'M
completed canvas, and of all that it was
to have done, aud of all that it would new
er do now. She had had a half formed
hope in her mind at first that he might
sometimes in his delirium cry her name,
and she listened eagerly, but he spoke al
ways Of the picture.
AT last one day, when it wanted but a
week to the time when the pictures must
be sent in, he suddenly cried her name,
and she ran to him and bent over him.