The Portland daily press., 1895-07-27
liscerned far away, black against the fam

discerned far away, black against the fam
ing sky.
The Beauty was very poor at that time
and was working with redoubled energy
at the picture, for it must be finished by
certain date. and there was much yet to
do Perhaps insufficient nourishment 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 high fever
for many weeks. The friends who heard of
it and came to see him found Tim, with
a white face, installed as nurse. She
promptly ordered them away.
"Get to your work, boys" she said as
she thrust them out Of the door. "He
wants woman here. I've nursed some of
you before; leave me to it now. I'll tell
you if want help. But it is 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-
gested that she must rest she held out
firm young hand, and with all her eyes in
the appeal begged that he would test her
CO
pulse.
"I am firm and quiet and strong" she
said steadily. "What more would you
want?''
And the doctor looked perplexed, but
patted her cheek and left her with the
Beauty.
She found that all her patients rawlings
took but one turn. Wheresoever they
MIGHT, horiTo thoxy hoe oil
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
ness, to reach the picture.
Tim well knew that the time was short,
and she thought with despair of the un-
completed canvas, and of all that it was
to have done and of all that it would new
er do now. She had had 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
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
Tim-Tim," he whispered, scarcely
knowing her, the picture, the picture!
Will it never be done-wily it never be
done? o God, how they hold me back
Will no one help me? It is my life-my
life!'
He exhausted himself presently and lay
quiet, and she stole away, with tear be-
dimmed eyes, into his studio and uncover
ed the great picture. So near and yet SO
far, she thought If he could but start
now, the picture might be completed
She went softly back into the room again
and found him apparently sleeping. Grad
ually she slipped down beside the bed on
her knees and raised her young face, and
q prayer stole up out of her careless heart,
the first that her abandoned life had
known.
80 God, or fate," she whispered, "that
rules the stars and men, grant this my
prayerl / love him! I love him! I love
him! o God, if it be possible grant that
[, for his dear sake, may take his power
and finish that which he has left undone.
Take thou my soul if thou wilt-God or
devi-and cast it out utterly, so only that
this thing may be done. Kill me, do what
thou wilt afterward. Grant only this
She knelt there for long time, with
her face hidden, then rose quietly and
pressed her lips to his and went out to the
studio, as one walks in a ream, with a
new, strange light on her face and took
up the brushes and palette fearlessly and
set to work.
Day after day she painted without hesi-
tation, kissing his lips always before she
started, telling no one, but keeping the
studio locked from all eyes,
She grew thin and weak and ILL., All
the bright and bueyant young life of her
seemed to be absorbed in her work With
dreaming wonder, that was in itself the
greatest wonder of all, she saw the picture
grow under her hands until it was finished
They had missed her a couple of days,
and seeking her found her lying peacefully
at the foot Of the easel. Tho Beauty was
better and convalescent, and knew them,
and inquired for her. At first they
thought she was asleep from exhaustion,
but on trying to rouse her they found that
she was dead. The old doctor said that it
was heart trouble, and she had died in her
sleep.
The Beauty never knew. In his delirium
he had joined SO often the real and the un-
real thai he came to believe that he had
completed the picture himself. At all
events, it made him famous.-True Flag.