The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1897-05-08

her. / shouldn't miss her in the least j
never saw her again, and that's evi
dence enough, suppose. OF course.
wish l hadn't been drawn into it. but
cart very well get out of it nova
least, not without appearing rather dis
honorable and giving a good deal o
pain"
Now, look here, Teddy" 1 said
warmly, you've put two distinct issue.
before me. Either you are acting from
mistaken sense Of honor, sacrificing
both yourself and your art to the vair
hope OF making one woman happy
which you can never do If you DOM
love her, or else you are cheating your.
self into the idea that you can save your
art by selling your manhood and do true
work while your daily life is lie.''
Il don't think that's quite fair way
OF putting it," said Teddy. "In the first
place, I'm rather honestly sorry for the
girl, and should feel rather mean in
backing out after I've allowed her to
get fond of me; though, assure you,
I've never made love to her, or compro-
missed myself in any way except by talk
ing rather indiscreetly about what work
| could do If had free hand and a
place like Templecombe. And don't
think you quite realize how impossible
1t is for me to do the work want to do
as things are with me now. I've been
pretty low down here more than once
in these last three years, as YOU know.
ana II 1t came to that again, 1 think
should go under. But violet's greatest
wish is to give me the chance of doing
my own real work; and 1 might not
nave such another chance in lifetime,
SO he rambled on with the incon-
sistent apologies of man torn by con-
nicting motives and desires. Honest
ambition, thwarted by poverty, strove
painfully in him with chivalrous sem
sitiveness which shrank alike from the
pain OF giving pain, and from the
grosser discourtesy of falsehood.
1 argued, protested and entreated de-
lay, until at last the anxious lines which
l now saw for the first time on Teddy's
smooth brow subsidized q little, and I
consoled myself that he was safe for
the present from Mrs. Roxburgh's
snare.
But two mornings later received
short note from Teddy. II am going
down to Templecombe tomorrow" it
said. II have made up my mind that
! ought to do it, both for my sake and
hers; so it is best to go at once. You
can make what explanations you like,
If you are asked for any,"
VI course, rushed off to his rooms |
with a last expostulation. But a man
dressing hastily and packing his
trunks. with one eye on breakfast and !
The other on the timetable, is not very
open to total change of plans. Ted
dy had quiet way of declining further
discussion when his arrangements were
made, and now he assumed that had
only come round to bid him a personal
good-by. He knelt on the floor, strap
ping portmanteau, the flush of ex-
ertion on his bright face heightened,
knew, by secret annoyance, and his
straight brows contracting with some
thing more than a physical strain.
Teddy, old man." 1 broke out,
you're not really going to that wretch
ed woman! For Gods sake, don't make
uch fool of yourself-let me get you
put CT it-there's time yet"
He gaze last tug at the strap and
got up, facing me sharply.
Look here, old chap" he said, 81
hink you'd better leave me alone:
you'll do no good now. I'm awfulIy
orry, but I hope our friendship"
'hen he stopped short and set his lips
lervously and held out his hand in
friendly but firm dismissal. Good
~" he just muttered, as gripped it
nd turned reluctantly away.
1t is 20 years to-day since Teddy went
Templecombe. And now he is ia
nous man: Sir Edwin Brownlow, r. !;
L, the fashionable portrait painter, the !
darling of London =
pring-why, even the illustrated pa =
ers are full of ''Sir Edwin Brownlow's /;
ouse at Kensington," and corners of
ir Edwin Brownlow's studio" and
portraits of his beautiful wife," pow :
cred and made up now with a less =
onorablc art than Teddy's. All, Ted :,
y! has that unhappy vampire sucked =
u the youth out of you yet? !.
To-day is Show Sunday, and 1 have o
cen with the large, gaping crowd to il
r Edwin Brownlow's studio. I had n
en very little of him during the years 3,
his steady rise to fame. He seemed h
know how keenly felt the inevita bic :,
cadence TINT overlook his work and s.
shrink from any criticism of mine o.
BON the pictures which, season by sea- h,
n, were multiplied on the Academy in
ais. each more vapid and insincere ap
treatment than the last. But this W
ar he had sent me the formal invita- M
IN card. with written postscript on m
e back: DO drop in for an hour If WI
u can. Violet wants you to see the ,
ris; their portraits are going in" cb