The Yale expositor., 1897-10-15

moiselle," he said. what do you wish
to know concerning him?"
The girl shrugged her shoulders.
wish to know" she exclaimed. ma
foil l have no wish to know. mon
sieur."
'Then / don't mind telling you. He
is countryman of mine. He was
born in a village near where I was
born. knew him when he was boy;
and when he came to Paris few
months ago, determined to work hard
and compelled to live on slender means,
1 offered to share my studio with him,
and he is here. There, you have lost
your fierce look and got quite a tame
one into your eyes. You are no longer
a wild creature of the Revolution. You
are also stiff, perceive. Take a few
turns about the rooms, mademoiselle,
then we will go on"
The artist walked over to table lit
tered with all kinds of debris, filled a
well-colored briar-root pipe, and began
20 smoke.
He was a tall man, slight in build,
rather good-looking, but very careless
| ly dressed; when he walked, he did so
with slight limp, though he appeared
to have well-knit limbs; and when he
spoke French, he did so with a very
strong insular accentuation. From
himself Adele had learned nothing of
his personal history, for he was chary
of giving that kind of information,
and at times more inclined to work
than talk.
Having received permission to rest,
Adele shook herself like young PAN
ther, and leaped lightly from the ros-
trum, while her employer, having lit
his pipe, strolled off and left her in
sole possession of the studio. She
stood for a moment to stretch her
limbs, already cramped with posing,
then strolled thoughtfully to the fur
ther end OF the studio, where the
younger Of the two men had been
working. There stood the picture at
which he worked so assiduously, COW
cred with a green fold of baize. Adele
longed to have a peep at it. She lis
tened; returned to the door; there was
no sound; then she ran lightly across
the room, lifted the loose baize and
exposed the picture to full view.
Holy Mother" she exclaimed,
starting back with raised eyebrows
and hands.
"You are startled, mademoiselle,"
said a voice. "Do you consider the
picture a bad one?"
Adele turned and saw her employer
gazing at her from the threshold Of
the room.
"If you please" he continued, ad-
vancing, I'VE will return to our work.
Your face has got some expression
now; the rest has done you good"
Without a word she turned from the
picture, mounted her rostrum and fell
irto her accustomed pose.
For a time the artist worked again
silently, and Adele, glancing from him
to the picture, seemed celebrating as
to what she should do.
Presently she spoke.
"How long has he been in Paris?"
she said, indicating by sidelong
movement of her head the person who
usually occupied the other end of the
room.
Several months, as I informed
you," returned the artist, without look
/ ing up from his work.
"Who is his model?'
(Which one?"
"For that picture"
"No one. He paints from memory
"Ah then, he has known her? He
| is a compatriot Of madame?"
"Of whom?"
"Of the original of that picture
Madame Caussidiere."
"Ah, you think you trace likeness
to a friend"
'I do not think it, monsieur; know
It. 1t is madame, not as she is now
-ah, no-but as she must have been
years ago, before she married that
chouan of a Caussidiere"
(To BE ooNTINuED.)