The Roanoke daily times. (Roanoke, Va.) 1895-1897, 1896-05-26
A BEAUTIFUL MAN.


OF beauty that makes people turn around
in the street and stare-the strong. fair.
God given beauty that even men like to
look at
He lived up to his beauty, and for
his beauty and by his beauty. He looked
like a prince, prince of some northern
saga-like Frithjof, the destroyer of
gods. He looked like the impossible hero
OF penny novelette, written by a wom-
an.
He was one evening at Colonel and
Mrs. Wayne's The music was COM
pllcated, and the women We're plain,
and he-wishing these conditions had
been reversed-sat with his elbow rest
ing on little table near him and hand
lifted up, looking ut his nails Itsoothed
him and prevented his yawning from
becoming unmanageably frequent.
May see them. too?" said a wom-
ans voice ut his side It was clear
young voice, and when he turned around
TO look Mt its owner he was disap-
pointed
II am painter, - said she, "and
understand beautiful hands" She held
out one of her own, palm upward, as
she spoke, waiting for him to lay his
upon It, He did so smiling, not know
ing exactly what to say, and she bent
her head little TO one side and looked
at it.
The daughters of the house were play
ing long duet
How dreadfully bored you are" she
said thoughtfully, without raising her
eyes; five yawns in ten minutes You
may take back your hand Thank you. "
He was again at loss what to say.
be did not quite understand her, with
her pretty voice and her ugly face. He
would have liked to know what she
thought of his hand, but it looked fool
1sh to ask. So he sat still, staring at
her aggravating untidy little profile.
The ugly little thing came up to him
before the evening was over and lifted
her small hard face to his "Mr. Van
den Heuvel, 3" she said in pretty voice
that ought to have belonged to some one
else, l want you to come and see me
that Is, " she corrected laughingly, II
want you to come and let me SEQ you.
want to paint you. please. And here
n softening of the pretty voice "You
are so very beautiful! 1 am an exceed
lngly clever painter. you know, SO you
need not fear to trust your beauty with
me. &"
He went next day. and the day after
that and every day.
She never needed or cared about what
his thoughts or his feelings might be.
She painted on, stopping sometimes to
clasp her hands i'll frank. heathenish
alteration before him. "Your beauty
positively hurts mel" she would say,
pressing both her hands to her heart
And if he turned pale she told him to
spoil her tints
II love you." said Henri Pierre one
afternoon rs she bent over him with O
cardboard lotus lily in her hand.
Don't be foolish, DEAR" she said, re-
arranging her landscape
Il love you, repeated Narcissus.
Now your curls are oil tangled ND
on the wrong side, and it will take me
an hour to fasten the lilies on your
head, she said Grossly. And with light,
turpentiny fingers and with q long brush
in her mouth she patted him into shape
again. "There, look down now and
smile"
"Ishall try and catch smallpox" said
Henri Pierre, opening his eyes, "or get
burned in q fire and be all Scared and
hideous Then you will love me for
something better than my beauty"
Then I shall not love you at all, &"
said the girl. with decided little dab
of the brush. eco TO sleep Here comes
Diana
1t was not Diana 1t was Lydia Love,
the poetess, who opened the door and
entered with the flash and dazzle Of her
young success. and Of her scarlet hat
and cloak.
Ny dear, you must lend him to
me. she said after she had kissed her
friend and stared at Henri Pierre until
he shut his eyes again i'll self defense
II have got ali order for "a sonne,s,
and my brain is absolutely dried up.
Lend him to me for three weeks I'll
send him back unimpaired Heavensl
What face he has!''
He learned all her poems by heart.
and recited them to her in the mornings
when she was too calm to write. He
sat at her feet from morning to night
with the blue intensity of his eyes fixed
on her willful face, and his heart broken
by her capricious kindness.
II love you," he said
She laughed "Be content with the
gift of gifts the gods have blessed you
with-your beauty-your improbable,
your perfect, your magnificent beauty"
Hang my beautyr' cried Henri
Pierre passionately. "I want to be loved
loved for no reason-lovedl Not be-
cause nv nose is STRAIGHT and my hnir