The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-10-23

was a. shelf with a few books, there were
pens, ink and paper; there was a freNburn-
ing in the CRATE. My lady says you will
please make this room your own during
your stay. My lady's health will not permit
her to pass the evening with YOU There
are books, she says, and if there is any,
thing you want, viii you please ring for
me?"
Il shall do very well,' he replied.
Dinner at half past SEVEN" the footman
went on. Il beg your pardon, sir. but nv
lady can't abide tobacco. 1t would be as
much as my place is worth to smell of to-
bacco, and think. sir" He shifted with
curiosity almost scientific.
The young man frowned. sVerv wei, /"
he said
AT half-past seven the footman led him To
the dining room, where he found the lady
waiting for him. 1t was a dsmantled din
ing room There was a make-shift table.
humble Kind of sideboard and few chairs
Inc walls had been stripped He looked
round for the daughter but she did not an
pear Dinner was simply terrible; the lady
spoke not single word, the claret would
nave Deen dear at twelve shilings the
things were addressed and observed. When
IT was over the lady rose and stif1y wished
him goodnight. He returned to his own
room Decidedly his visit promised to be
one OF the greatest excitement and adven-
ture
The house, he said sis empty: all the
furniture has been taken out of it. presum
ably to be sold. They are therefore hard ND.
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 thew
are going to pay me hundred gunieas for
the portrait. / suppose it is the fiance who
pays. l wonder who he is. l wonder what
sort or girl it is. wonder what makes
the lady so cold. / wonder He
yawned vIf' l could smoke a pipe I'D the
chimney-I suppose not / wonder how
VIII get through the evening""
AT ~ O'Clock he went to his bedroom: If
was small room, paneled with dark
cedar, beyond the power of any candle 10
ignt up. That it was furnished with a
carved four-poster was to be expected. The
young man put out the light and mounted
the steps by which one assembled magnifi-
Gently 10 that bed. Heavens How silent
the house was!
The reader expects a ghost; 1t was quite
the Kind of house where ghosts are seen:
ola ana 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. M
ghost, but there was 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.
fou are going" she said, ito paint nv
great-grear niece. She has got something of
my race. Give her all my beauty my vi
Vaclty NO; not to take it from the thing
tney call my portrait. The Inner was a.
coarse and common creature; he could not
understand grace, and he. could not recog-
nlze vivacity. You must take my portrait
from myself-at once And, above all, re-
member the expression. Young man. YOU
appear TO be different from that thinner: he
got guinea for the portrait and Law at
the village alehouse Remember I am all
vivacity and sprightliness And in my gold
en- locks lie twenty thousand smiling GU
pids, everyone armed with a fatal dart. and
my eyes are the eyes of venus, goddess of
love, soft and smiling, promising ten thou
sand joys--my lovers told me so. Conner
In the morning the young man was called
at 3. He started into wakefuIness, his mind
afiame with the extraordinary beauty of
the dream woman. He could not wait: he
flung himself into his clothes and went into
the library to see her portrait. There it was,
the presentation of a beautiful girl drawn
with a wooden fidelity. But where was the
sprightliness? Where was the vivacity :?
Where were the cupids in the curs? And
where were the eyes of Venus soft and
CT11i1i nc los
Nothing was there except the regular con-
tour, the oval face and the curls; in the
eyes reigned dullness. and the hairdresser,
not Cupid at all, was visible in the artificial
regularity of the curls
His eye 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 por-
trait of his dream woman. roughly executed
in chalk-he looked at his thumb--yes and
by himself rough design, but it was
there, and it true; the portrait might
have taken half an hour not more, but ev-
erythng was there. a face of loneliness UNI
surpassed, a look of vivacity extraordinary,
eyes and lips and curs that breathed love
and sweetness
This young man was not of a kind to con-
Germ himself with ghosts He had no terror
Of nor any belief in. supernatural vista
tions. All he understood was that he had
somehow been attracted by a, portrait, that
he had dreamed about it, that in his dream
he endowed the original of this portrait
with charms which she perhaps never. pos
sessed, and that under the influence of the
dream ne had got out of bed and actually
in the dark, rubbed into the canvas her face
as he saw it, loving and ravishing.
I've been sleep-walking, he murmured
Lucky for me that was only the library"
He went back to his room in meditative
mood. Sleep-walking is never a pleasant
thing to think about 'sleep-walking COM
bined with pcrtrait-painting is rather ter
rifying. If dreams to be reproduced by
the somnambulist, heaven only knows what
things may be depicted upon the canvas or
what charges may be brought against an
artist.
III.
He breakfasted alone. After breakfast he
sent word to the lady that he was at her
service at any time that would be convent
ent At II o'clock he awaited his sitter. By
~; ~ hoA he