The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1897-06-29

view Terrace, Ocean Place, Wilton.
She was very beautiful. L was sorry
when the sun became too glaring on
the water and drove her indoors. A
| fisherman
He unused moment, then called: Z
"Bobr' ,
A rugged sailor answered Mt once.
Bob, L am going to stay at Grant
vile for few weeks. You will take
the yacht homer
Bob was too much accustomed to his
masters sudden freaks to make any
comment, aud Mr.. Gilroy, hastily Sc
Letting few articles in his cabin,
packed valise and went ashore. -.
June had come. Lena had spent the
merry month of May in dream of
perfect happiness. She meant no de-
ception when she told her Aunt Mar
garet it was the rapture of artistic sue
cess that painted her cheeks, and made
her eyes brilliant, her voice thrill with
musical ca1ences.
Every day, when the weather per-
mitted, she was upon the beach, work
ing with rapid fingers and swelling
heart over her canvas. Every day, at
the hour agreed upon, James Smith,
fisherman, presented himself as her
model upon the liberal terms offered in
the Granville Gazette. Had Lena
been brought up in society / know it
would have been impossible for her to
accept James Smith at his own word,
as Wilton fisherman. But the young
artist was child yet in many ways.
She had been educated with the Sc
clusion of n nun, in spite of her for
ei3n experience, and her devotion to
her art had kept her still secluded
from choice after she returned to her
home.
Il was, therefore, no amazement.
but simply delight, to her, when the
handsome fisherman, who looked one
OF natures noblemen in his rough, pic
turesque dress, conversed with her in
diligently, and paid her the courteous
respect of n gentleman. Little by lit
tie, as they drew more closely to-
gether in their daily intercourse, James
Smith let the brilliant intellect, the
travelled knowledge he possessed creep
out into sight. He gave her to under
stand, without actually lying, that he
had been sailor, and so accounted for
his familiarity with the scenes she had
visited and carried craven on her
heart and brain. He looked over
sketch books, wondering ut the power
in the slender hands, the genius of the
youthful brain, the fidelity of touch
and eye, and, as the restraint of
stranSeness wore away, his true man
hood asserted itself, and his heart rose
his master How could he but love
her! With all her wondrous gift, she
was the purest, simplest maiden he had
ever met. Ladies he had known by
scores, finished in every graceful ac-
complishment, but never one more
exquisite in refinement than Lena.
Peasant girls he had seen with beauty
unadorned," yet not one more unaf-
fected than this artist maid in her
dress of cheap print, her hair simply
bound in heavy braids of golden lustre.
There was the unaffected grace of
girlhood, with the well-stored mind of
one who made books, music and art
daily companions.
His conscience rebelled often at the
deceit he was practicing, but he Rugged
the thought of the luxury he could of
fer his love, the toll he could spare her.
June was yet young when the picture
was completed, aud in the early morn
ing James Smith, Aunt Margaret and
Lena stood upon the beach looking
upon its beauty. 1t was TO be packed
and sent to New York in the afternoon,
and Lena, her heart full, said, softly:
"How can | live if it is failure?"
Believing she spoke of actual pov-
erty, should her art fail to win money.
james Smith, with a sudden, over
whelming love controlling him, spoke
out 1t would make my story too long
to tell the words that made Lena's heart
tremble and her eyes grow misty, while
Aunt Margaret's wrath was kindling at
the fisherman's presumption.
But when Lena's hand was fast pris-
oned in his own, when her eyes. love
lighted, were dropping and her cheeks
blushing under his gaze, James Smith
said
But, though have once deceived
You, Lena, you may trust me now, for
all time
Deceived me?' she cried, shrinking
a little.
81 am not James Smith, but Morti-
mer Gilroy; not an honest, Woodworking
fisherman only on idle, useless gentle
man. You will not need to work when
you are my wife, Lena, but can paint
for pleasure only.
Then Lena's eyes flashed merrily.
aud she would have spoken, even if
Aunt Margaret hal not said dryiy:
Perhaps it would he n good time 10
tell Mr. Mortimer Gilroy who you are. "
DO not look so bewildered. " Lena
said. II am not incorporating. /
am simply what You know me-Made-
leine Seymour, artist. But Aunt Mar
garet wishes me TO tell you that paint
now, have painted for years, solely for
pleasure! / love my art have loved
it better than earthly pleasure since
first my hand could grasp pencil
But ! am not working for money. be
cause I have more than enough lam
rich, too, though do not paint in satin
dresses or wear jewels ut the sensible
Still, did not mean any deceptionl"
And yJu would have bestowed your
wealth upon q poor fshermau?" asked
Mortimer Gilroy, with glad heart and
loving eyes.