Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1896-07-02
A BEAUTIFUL MAN.

MS beauty ana Dy MS beauty. T1e lOokeu
like prince, prince of some northern
saga-like Frithjof, the destroyer Of
gods He looked like the impossible hero
of a penny novelette, written by a wom-
an.
He was one evening at Colonel and
Mrs Wayne's The music was COM
plicated, and the women were 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 at his nails. Itsoothed
him and prevented his yawning from
becoming unmanageably frequent.
MAY I see them, too?" said a wom-
ans voice at his side. 1t was clear
young voice, and when he turned around
to look at its owner he was disap-
pointed.
81 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.
He 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
ish 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," she said in pretty voice
that ought to have belonged to some one
else, II want you to come and see me
that is, she corrected laughingly, II
want you to come and let me see you.
I want to paint you, please" And here
a softening Of the pretty voice. "You
are SO very beautiful! am an exceed
ingly 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 in 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 as she bent over him with a
cardboard lotus lily in her hand.
Don't be foolish, DEAR" she said, re-
arranging her landscape.
II love you" repeated Narcissus.
''Now your curls are all tangled up
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 long brush
in her mouth she patted him into shape
again. "There, look down now and
smile"
4
IT shall try and catch smallpox, said
Henri Pierre, opening his eyes, "or get
burned in fire and be all SCARED and
hideoua Then you will love me fol
something better than my beauty"
''Then I shall not love you at all, u
said the girl, with decided little dat
Of the brush. go to sleep. Here comes
Diana"
It was not Diana It was Lydia Love,
the poetess, who opened the door and
entered with the fash and dazzle Of hel
young success, and Of her scarlet hal
and cloak.
my dear, you must lend him tx
me" she said after she had kissed hel
friend and stared at Henri Pierre unit
he shut his eyes again in self defense
II have got an order for "a sonnets
and my brain is absolutely dried up
Lend him to me for three weeks. IL
send him back unimpaired. Heavens
What face he has!"
= =.
He learned all her poems by heart
and recited them to her in the morning
when she was too calm to write. HI
sat at her feet from morning to nigh
with the blue intensity Of his eyes fixet
on her willful face, and his heart broker
by her capricious kindness
II love you," he said.
She laughed. Be content with tn
gift Of gifts the gods have blessed 70,
with-your beauty-your improbable
your perfect, your magnificent beauty.
"Hang my beauty" cried Henri
Pierre passionately. II want to be lovet
loved for no reason-lovedl Not be
cause my nose is straight, and my hal
browny yellow, and my eyes sky blue
But loved with closed eyes, blindly, un
reasonably"
II am sorry" said Lydia, who ha'
finished her twenty-fourth sonnet tina
day; "but I cannot help you And !
you take my advice you will never b
angry or in earnest about anything. ]
spoils your features. /"
"Chi dice ca II stelle 90 'lucente.
Nun sape st'uocchie CO tn tiene' nfronte. y
It was not boy, it was young gil
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