The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1899-07-12
SOMERSET, Pa, WEDNESDAY. JULY r. 1899.

and wonderful romance that had come
into her life 1t opened up an un-
dreamed-of world to the longing coun-
try girl. To be able to contribute some
thing to art-and something 50 rare
and precious as an ideal-surely this
was grander and sweeter than any
thing she had ever imagined for her
self! She lived in world of visions
from morning till night; and every
time she stepped out under the sky,
away from the dingy farmhouse and
its duties, she seemed to be walking
upon the air. And yet not once did
she seem to realize that the young art
ist himself formed any part of the fab
ric of her dreams 1t was the art that
she served, art that she worshiped, and
art that she was beginning TO love with
such passionate, absorbing devotion.
But Amos looked upon the infatua-
ton of his sweetheart with other aud
more practical eyes. When she would
bring him some of Blake's sketches of
herself to admire, he would turn away
with a shrug Of the shoulders and an
inarticulate exclamation, half of con-
tempt, half of mental anguish. But
Cicely never detected the anguish, and
it simply made her indignant that
Amos should be so unappreciative and
so "cross." Thus, through no con-
scious fault or intent Of either, the un-
acknowledged breach between the low
srs widened. Cicely ceased TO bring
Blake's sketches to her affianeed to be
admired. and ceased to speak to him OF
her new joy and privilege as ''an art
lists ideal.n After all, she reasoned,
Amos could not understand such
things; his nature was not capable OF
it. 1t would be better to cOnfine her
self, when she talked with him, to the
common matters of every day life,
which he could grasp.
Blake's conquest of the girls heart
was so gradual that he himself did not
realize, until too late, how far he had
really gone with her. The revelation
came to him one evening. when he aud
Cicely had strolled down to a little
grove on the river bank, where Mr..
Judson kept boat chained to a tree.
Blake had sketehed Cicely sitting in
the boat and bending over its edge,
with her hand trailing in the water.
Then the young people had seated
themselves together on the bank to in
speet the sketch. After agreeing that
it was very good, and exchanging some
rather commonplace remarks about the
evening light on the river, Blake said
with assumed lightness:
"Well, Cicely, all artists, sooner ol
later, have to bid farewell to their ide
ais, and shall have to say good-by tc
mine next week.
Some of the coloring seemed to fade
out of Cicely's face as she raised it ques
honingly. 81 don't understand what
you mean,p she said, "are you going
away2"
Blake looked searehiDgly into the
girls eyes, as he nodded his head. Fol
a moment Cieely sat flushing and pal
ing. Then an ungovernable sob broke
from her lips, and her fair young head
sank on the artists breast. In an in
slant his arm was around her, and hii
kisses were raining on her lips and
cheek.
The young mans fit Of passion spenf
itself in a moment, and he started uI
with an exclamation of vexation anC
alarm. Amos Doxey, Cicely's promis
ed husband, stood towering above tn,
pair. But there was no lightning in
his eyes-Only a dull, hopeless, smould
ering pain. To Blake he spoke never
word; but his glance Of whitening con
tempt was worse, a thousand times
than the most singing blow. Bend
ing over the now prostrateand sobbinl
girl, he said in a firm, yet trembling
voice: "You must go along with him
Cicely, and you must give me back tn,
ring. 1t wouldn't be right no othe
way"
Poor Cicely, with her face bending
almost to the ground, and her dishev
eled hair falling about it and graciousl.
hiding it, tugged, sobbing, at the cheaE
moOnstone pledge, till it slipped off anC
fell in the grass. Then she searched
for it in pitiful, blind, cropping way
and tucked it into Amos's big, brown
hand, letting her fingers lie for q mo
ment with timid beseeehing in hi
rough palm. But Amos did not clos
his hand upon them. He lifted him
self up with such sigh as the stricken
OK sometimes gives after he has beel
felled by the hammer in the shambles
and moved slowly away out Of tn
grove. And as his footsteps died ava,
Cicely flung herself downward in tn
grass, shaking with her sobs.
For some moments young Blake
dazed, disconnected and ashamed, suf
fered Cicely to grovel at his feet. Then
with half-angry Impotence, be seizet
her hand and raised her to a sittinI
posture. "Conie, come, Cicely,w b
said. ats bad business, / know, ant
we've both made fools of ourselves
But let's consider the best way out G
it. l can't marry you, that's certain
I'll never marry any one. But I'll tel
you what I'll do. I'll take you up t
New York with me, and get you a goo
place to work, where you can earn you
living and something more, and I'll be
friend you in other ways, and help 20
all | can. j have several artist friend
who will be glad to have you pose 70
them as model, | am sure, and wan
you more or less for the same purpos
myself What do you say? VIII yo
go with me?"
In reply Cicely snatched her han
from the young mans grasp, leaped
her feet, and confronted him with bla;
ing eyes. 'Do you think l would g
with you to live such life ?" she d.
manded, fiercely, through her sob
81 would kill myself firstl-I woul
drown myself in that riverr'
"How inconsistent you are" sneere
the young man, latter you have bee
| n-afinor for rraaka Of the io,- of sri,.ir :,