The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1898-10-23
The LIMNER'S ROMANCE.
BY SIR WAITER BEsANT.
copyrighted, 1895, by walter Resnnt.


lie led him into a morning room poorly
furnished with one table one armchair,
and two ordinary chairs; there was a shelf
with few books, there were pens, ink
and paper; there was "A fire burning in the
CRATE. MY lady saws YOU Will please
make this room your own during your
stay. NY lady's health viii not permit
her TO pass the evening with you. There
are books, she says, and If there is any
thing you want, will you please ring for
me2"
Il shall do very we'll" he replied.
Dinner at half-past seven" the foot
man went on. Il beg your pardon sir,
but my lady can't abide tobacco It
would be as much as my place is worth
TO smell of tobacco. and I think, sir"
he shifted with curiosity almost scien-
tihc
The young man frowned. VERY wen"
he said
At 1870 O'Clock the footman led him to
the dining-room, whore he found the lady
waiting for him. 1t was a dismantled din
ing-room. There was make-shift table
humble kind of ideboard and a few
chairs. The walls had been stripped. He
looked round for the daughter, but she
did not appear. Dinner was simply terri
Bile; the lady spoke not a single word. the
c!aret would have been dear at y shin
lngs, the things were addressed and III
served. When II was over the lady rose
and stitily wished him goodnight He re-
turned to his own room. Decidedly his
visit promised 10 be one of the greatest
excitement and adventure,
The house, he said, lis empty; all the
furniture has been taken out of Il, pre-
sumably to be sold. They are, therefore.
hard up. Why was not her ladyship in
the drawing room to receive me? Because
there is no drawing room. That's the
explanation. They live in the smaller
rooms, furnished anyhow. There has been
a crash. Yet they are going to pay me 100
guineas for the portrait. / suppose it is
the nance who pays. ! wonder who he is
/ wonder what sort of a girl it is
wonder what makes the lady so cold. 1
wonder ~ He yawned IF I
could smoke a pipe up the chimney-I sup
pose not l wonder how l will get through
the evening"
At 10 O'clock he went to his bedroom: it
was small room, paneled with dark ce-
dar beyond the power of any candle to
light up. That it was furnished with
carved tour-pOster was to be expected.
The young man put out the light and
mounted the steps by which one ascend
ed magnificentiy to that bed. Heavens!
How silent the house wasi
The reader expects a ghost; it was quite
the kind of house where ghosts are seen;
old and with broad corridors and stately
stairs and paneled rooms and painted
ceilings and ancient furniture. Moreover.
the house was haunted by a silence which
was supernatural. There was however,
no ghost, but there was a dream.
You have seen that among the family
portraits in the library there was one
which struck this painter for the beauty of
the subject. In his dream the woman of
this portrait appeared to him and spoke
to him. You are going" she said "to
paint my great-great niece. She has got
something of my face. Give her all nv
beauty, all by vivacity. No; not to take
it from the thing they call my portrait.
The thinner was a coarse and common
creature; he could not understand grace
and he could not recognize vivacity You
must take my portrait from myself-at
once. And, above all, remember the ex-
preston. Young man. you appear to be
different from that thinner; he got guinea
for the portrait and lay al the village ale
house. Remember 1 am all vivaeity and
fprightliness. And in my golden locks lie
10000 smiling Cupids. every one armed
with a fatal dart, and my eyes are the
eyes of Venus, goddess of love- soft and
smiling, promising 10000 joys-my lovers
told me So Gomez
In the morning the young man was called
Mt 3. He started into wakefulness his
mind aflame with the extraordinary beau
~ of the dream woman. He could not
wait; he flung himself into his clothes and
went into the library to see her portrait
There is was. the presentation of a beau
tiful girl drawn with a wooden fidelity.
But where were the eyes of Venus soft
and smiingG Alas They were not there.
Nothing was there except the regular con-
tour, the oval face. and the curls; in the
eyes reigncd du!lness. and the hair dresser.
not Cupid at all. was visible in the arti-
fetal regularity of the curls.
His eve fell upon the easel which he had
set up the day before; something was on
the canvas. He walked across the room
TO look at it. Heavens! There was the
portrait of his dream woman, roughly ex-
ecuted in chalk-he looked at his thumb
Yes, and by himself. A rough design but
1t was there, and it was true; the portrait
might have taken half an hour. no more,
but everything was there, a face of love
liness unsurpassed, q look of vivaeity ex-
faordinary eyes and lips and curls that
breathed love and sweetness
This young man was not of kind to
concern himself with ghosts. He had no
terror Of nor any belief in supernatural
vista tons. All he understood was that
he had somehow been attracted by a por-
trait that he had dreamed about 1t. that
in his dream he endowed the original of
this portrait with charms which she per-
haps never possessed, and that under the
influence of the dream he had got out of
bed and actually, in the dark, rubbed into
the canvas her face as he saw 1t, loving
and ravishingi
I've been sleep-walkng," he murmur-
ed. Lucky for me that was only the
library"
He went back to his room in medita-
tive mood. Sleep-walking is never a
pleasant thing TO think about: sleep
walking combined with portrait-painting
is rather terrifying. If dreams are 10 be
reproduced by the somnambulist. heaven
IL Fsan 1aat
upon the canvas or what charges NAV he
brought against an artist!
II.
He breakfasted alone. After breakfast.