The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1896-03-17

The third morning after my task had
begun / repaired to the Louvre. Just
as | was about to enter, the ofIlcious
guardian, in his green and gold uni
form, made me an agitated sign, carry
ing his hand to his neck, l remem-
bered having seen the same gesture at
the theater. Don't you remember that
when Don Caesar de Ba2an hears the
news that he is going to be hanged, he
puts his hand to his neck and feels of
it as if he already felt the fatal cord?
Just so gesticulated the green and gilt
guardian | stared at him stupidity
and then looked around me, Anybody
in sight? Coming around the corner
was a young woman but she was invis-
lble to him There was nobody else,
Evidently to me that this funereal ges-
ture was addressed. did not under
stand him, and therefore crossed the
threshold, 1 had scarce assembled three
steps of the staircase when loud cry
resounded behind me: "Stop-~you
have no craVat!"
Initiating the gesture OF Don Caesar
de Bazan 1 carried my hand to my
neck. Alas it was true. had lost my
cravat.
Don't laugh. l didn't laugh. 1t was
my only cravat. 1t was one of those
cheap, black knots which are fastened
around the collar button with a rubber
band. Five minutes before entering
the courtyard Of the Louvre had
stopped in the Rue de Rivoli, gazed at
myself in a shop window mirror and
had adjusted my cravat. Alas! 1 had
done more than adjust my cravat-I
had lost it.
TT is against the rules" said the
guardian severely, ito permit any one
to enter the gallery without a cravat."
Wen, he was right. There must be
rules in the great galleries, and while
they will admit shabby people, they
will not admit people in rags, in their
shirt sleeves, or without crayats.
At this moment the lady who had
been rounding the corner passed near
me- felt myself growing red and pale
at once, and I turned in the direction of
my guardian in order to look away
from the pretty visitor, who, as she
passed, brushed me with her sillken
gown. She wore the prettiest little
blue cravat around her neck that one
could imagine. Yes, couldn't help but
notice it in looking out of the corner OF
my eye at her white neck.
I stood there stunned. The guardian
enjoyed my CONSERVATION. He was
happy. In this moment he exercised
the exalted pleasure of authority. A
policeman who orders you to move
on" experiences the same secret joy. 1t
I 4. IT. q xuhf
ted Caesar and Napoleon.
I remained there for some minutes
gazing at this little great man. I had
nothing in my wardrobe that resemblel
] in the slightest degree a cravat, and /
1 had not penny about me with which
I to buy one. To whom could I address
myself. I was from the country. /
knew no one in Paris, had no COM
4 rades from which ! could borrow a knot
of ribbon What humiliation! And
yet above in the gallery, the wassailers
were waiting for me. laughing and
/ drinking under the grape arbor.
| left the vestibule. | entered the
great square of the Louvre and crossed
| it mechanically Yet as ! did so felt
instinctively that there. was some one
following me, ! OWNED that it was a
woman, and that 1t was the woman
whom I had met in the door, and who
/ had turned and redescended the stair
case at the moment Of my nnisadven-
ture Why had she followed me? Had
not turned my face in order to avoid
her glance? Heaven preserve us from
inquisitiye. people
Z II ~, q
/ lady of the staircase She stopped in
I front of me, looking at me timidly, with
a charming embarrassment She
seemed moved and troubled. But, said
to myself, what has become Of the
pretty ribbon she Just wore around her
neck? Her hands We're buried in rich
rnuff. AS she stopped and looked at
J me. she withdrew one of her hands
| from the mufr. saw in her fingers the
light blue silk cravat ornamented at
its ends with white lace. can entrance
| ticket, she said to me, in a half-whis-
J per, and she hurried away
Here the artist stopped and medita-
ted long.
you Followed her, suppose?" asked
his friend
The wassailers of Teniers We're waiting
for me-
"And you entered the Louvre in a
blue crayat with lace ends?"
Without the least affeetation, with
out false shame, and perhaps with q
certain pride as / triumphantly passed
the green and gold guardian at the
door"
"And you found her some day some
where this pretty woman, at the sea-
side, in the mountains, in society? No?
But You are rnarried-did she not be-
come your wife,"
Il did not say" said the painter, dry.
lily.
"But your story is not finished"
'7I am painter, my dear boy. I fin.
ish pictures, but never knew how tt
finish story