Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1897-10-28
ANNE MORTON.
By Nina De Garmo Spa1dinq.
Copyright, 1871
nlssH
Copyright. 1871

" DUNG RIVINGTON WAYNE had
made a success of his "a years of
lie, rather a remarkable success for
one so young. He had two pictures
hung" and an offer from the National
academy for another, and more than his
share of notice from the newspapers
and society. Moreover, he had re-
manned comparatively unspoiled.
He had come to New York armed
with letter of introduction from his
aunt, Mrs. Carter, of Virginia, to Mrs.
Morton. He had heard all his life of
Anne Morton, of her great social sue
cess as Miss Van Allen and as the wife
of Judge Morton, and then as his
widow. He had a sort of a vague idea
of what this friend of his aunt's should
be like-a middle-aged matron with a
hint of former beauty. Instead he had
been quite dazzled by this queenly
creature, who was Anne Morton. She
had seen his wonder and smiled. 9th
ers had wondered before and some had
even been bold enough to ask her how
she did it.
There had been 4 small dinner party
that evening, just starting for the the
alter. and her woman's tact had made it
possible for him to join them. They
had entered their box at the beginning
of the second act, and he could see the
little sensation they made. Indeed, the
audience quite lost the first words of
the leading tenor's song in watching
Mrs. Morton and her party. And he
felt glad. He could not have told why.
The next evening found him by Mrs.
Morton's side. He was one of many,
to be sure, but they found moments
when they resumed their rather serious
conversation. He was visionary, as all
geniuses are, and he found 1t rather
rdampening to his enthusiasm when she
made common sense amendments to
some of his most brilliant motions. But
\ he liked to be with her, and he gratified
his wish, and he gratified it so ardently
that Mrs. Morton had decided to scold
him as he deserved.
So one evening when he called he was
taken to her den instead of the draw
ing-room, where he usually found her.
He stood for a moment enjoying the
scene of coziness-the flames in the
small fireplace Pickering on the GRIM
son walls, the rare etchings and rich
rugs and Anne Morton's beautiful face,
in which no vestige of age appeared.
ut was good of you to come to-
night" she said. 81 wanted to have a
quiet little talk with you"
Thank you," he said, frankly, as he
drew an easy chair before the fire,
"You are very kind to me-kinder than
anyone else has been-and am CRATE
full
She smiled. 1T has not been entirely
disinterested, and, of course, for your
aunt's sake, would have done the
same. But it has been a pleasure to
know you and show you to my friends,
Remember, you are rather a famous
young artist-and a philanthropist,
too and she laughed.
Don't talk about philanthropy" he
said, plainly annoyed.
But that is what 1 want to talk
about"
WELL he said, resignedly, 81 prom
Use to answer any questions. suppose
it is the prison picture|
Eyes. / want you to confess, Mr..
WAYNE, that you were not entirely I'M
selfish when you refused to sell that
picture to the National academy and
gave it to the prison"
Instantly his manner changed. From
the young society man he became the
artist. He spoke very quietly.
Mrs. Morton, through the notoriety
of that gift I have sometimes almost
doubted my motives, and in such mo-
ments have despised myself. At other
times I have known myself better. l
think of the long months spent study
ing the prison types for one of my pic
lures, and the impressions took of the
life. rude and strong; and 1 can see
the stages through which 1 came to nv
resolution. 1 spent many hours watch
ing those poor creatures, deprived of
home. air and pleasure, some for years
and some for life. / went back to my
studio and painted for them picture
~ tbe Virgin Mother and her child.
with every stroke of the brush ]
Thought of them: / was doing il for
them. Then had that offer from the
academy for my picture-their picture
and God knows, it was a struggle 10
keen INV purpose. But it was theirs;
they had been my inspiration. And
wei, I couldn't have respected myself
is had sold their picture"
He had risen nervously, and stood by
the mantel, looking down upon her.
Her words struck him as peculiarly
cold and unsympathetic:
sTbat was good and commendable,
Mr. Wavne. and should like to say
Tint agreed with you; but I can't"
ssNo.s he drawled. Il hardly hoped
that YOU would" Yet he had thought
that she. with her rare sympathy,
would understand him. He continued:
This is the first time l have spoken