River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1899-08-03
A DANAE In SABOTS.
TN RIVE to the Bots"

IN RIVE to the Bots"
The English coachman knew
by the way his master slammed the
door of the coupe that the world did
not wag well with him.
Henry Duval leaned back on the seat
and impatiently slapped his gloves on
his knee, staring blankly out of the
window as the carriage rolled down
the broad avenue, gay with equipages
and pedestrians. Ordinarily he would
have noted each riders skill, and even
the clothes he wore, and would have
had smile for every woman of his ac-
quaintance, but this morning he was
overshadowed by a sense of defeat, at
which he was as much surprised as con-
founded.
To think that it was only yesterday
"a few fleeing hours ago-that he
held his head high among his con-
freres, and now! What mattered it if
all Paris still echoed bravo when she
had criticised his "Danae," a picture
that had aroused the envy and enthusi-
assn of the artistic world?
In vain he sought to forget her
words, to cry out that one foolish wom-
ans Judgment could not count against
the public praise which he had reaped
as his just reward after years of work.
The reason for her criticism is what
stung him most. Her words still rang
in his ears:
You fail, Henri, in achieving the
highest; you depict the body, and not
i NJ dac
and blood, but the charm of the ale
CORY is lost. The beauty that wins
divinity should possess an inspiration
beyond that born of flesh tints and
curves. 1t is this lack, mon ami, that
makes me ice to your flame. My late
husband was a brutal sensualist; you
have dimly outlined my years of pen
ance with him. You are a refined SEN
sualist; you would not throw your
boots at my head in a drunken frenzy,
or parade your mistress before me in
public, but your nature lacks the ideal
ity | need now more than ever. You
plead your old friendship as "A sure
precursor of unending love. Alack!
Henri, the boy | once played with has
vanished, never to return. Around the
man l now know cling affectionate
memories of the past, but he is not
to me the possibility of a faithful
spouse for the future. Unless YOU can
prove TO me that your fortune has not
degraded your art, that in a luxurious
life you rise above yourself, above self
ishness, we cannot be one in either
thought or heart. When l see IA can
vas signed by you bearing the imprint
of noble soul, as well as trained eye
and skilled hand, then, Henri, l may lis
ten TO your ardent wooing."
He could see her as she stood beside
him, calm and thoughtful, her hand
resting for moment upon his arm.
yet with an impalpable something
separating her utterly from him. 1t
brought little solace TO his soul to
know that ten years before, if he had
but spoken to the fair girl he knew
so well, she might have been his; be-
fore her parents had hurried her into
the marriage with that rich old count,
whose death at last was the sole com
fort his wife ever derived from her
marriage with him.
Henri Duval had loved the maiden
well, but the young wife better. though
her irreproachable life shielded her
from even an attempt on his part to
express his devotion. So he dreamt his
dreams and lived his easy life, reserv-
ing always, in the depths of his being,
a pure place for her image, while his
daily encourage was favored with the
bohemia of art and Partisan youth. His
plebeian grandfather had amassed a
fortune and the marriage of his father
with the penniless daughter of duke
had lowered him with the right TO
hobnob with the mighty ones of the
land. so that Henri had found his path
in life a rosy one. Rich, clever and
handsome, he was immensely popular,
a little spoilt by adulation and very
sensitive TO praise or criticism.
The contemplation of marriage had
not escaped his thoughts, but he feared
that he would grow weary of domestic
iovs, and the women he met were
either too frivolous or too serious-all
except the one of his dreams. whose
marriage had caused him to feel a dis
tinct sense of loss in his life. 4 thou
sand times he had blamed himself for
letting TINS treasure Sli away from
his grasp, and when, at last. she was
free again, he found her more beautiful,
more gracious. Then he poured out
his passionate love. only to find his idol
turn cold before his eyes. Never could
he forget her cruel words. and yet she
had confessed that since she was a child
she had loved him, and for that reason
had avoided seeing him while married
TO the count. For one moment. for
one heavenly instant, her great brown
eyes had gazed into his with tender
ness. Then the look had vanished, and
a quiet dignity enyeloped her, as with
an icy mantle. Henri had felt power
less TO take her hand. and his eager
words died upon his lips Thus had
they parted.
The carriage stopped. The coachman
wished TO know whether monsieur had
any particular route in view.
.'Drive anywhere-to the devil" cried
Duval, GROSSLY, and they turned down
long alley toward lake. The young
artist looked listlessly at the children
playing and nurses gossiping.
Suddenly he pulled the check string.
Why should he be mewed up in the
coupe? Why had he not taken his sad
die horse? All, only because he had
not known what he was doing or say