The Newtown bee., 1899-12-01
Honora Brings Down the House.

Honora Brings Down the House.
A ROMANCE ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF BO-
HEMIA.-DORA READ GOODALE IN THE
SPRINGFIELD SUNDAY REPUBLICAN.
The strong sunshine which poured
through the skylight Of the big studi
was tempered and diffused by white
muslin screen painted with blue dragons,
while tall vases, plaster bas-re lefs, bits
of old tapestry, palm tree or two, braas
tea urn and luxurious divan with pill
lows three deep gave the room an air at
once artistic and feminine. Five young
women were sitting or standing at the
easels, some flourishing charcoal sticks,
others with palettes on their thumbs, all
intent on mastering the difficulties Of per-
spective ''values" or ''planes," while q
sixth, with her hair unbound and wear
ing fiowingssred robe, represented their
! idea OF Moorish heroine. Outside, the
buzz and roar of New York throbbed op
the afternoon air, elevated trains shxieked
and whizZed by, street calls rose and fell
and a hurdy-gurdy on the next corner
ground out a once popular tune; but no
one noticed these noises any mt re than
the country plow boy notices the wind
signing Ill day tt ough the pines on the
hill.
| 'sHave you seen Helen's "Winged Vic
tory ?" asked Miss Haviland, tall girl,
taking bit of bread crumb from her
apron POCKET and" applying it deity
"They say the professor was charm ed
with it and promised to get her into the
life class. Raise the left shoulder trifi
please, Nora"
The Moorish maiden shifted her posi-.
ton ever 80 slightly.
"Helen can draw, but she has no sense
of COLOR" declared a second decisive ly.
"Now, shall devote myself to pastels
when get through at the league.
simply adore those impressionist land
Escapes like Dewey's, don't you?"
"What!-purple figures swimming
Iabout in pea-green fog? Really, I can't
say I agree with you," returned viva,
Icious little lady with Titisn-red hair.
s'Grace, you're incorrigible. Time tc
rest, Nora" announced Miss. Havi1and
and while the worshipers Of art relaxed
their tired muscles, and exchanged
theories, praise and criticism with the
the frankness OF thei cult. Honora also
| stepped down and took curious look al
the semi-circle Of imore nr less realisti
likenesses. What she saw was a young
dark-haired woman, with wistful gray
eyes, hands claeped before her, and ss
almost care-wora expression. This
Moorish girl was cles rly captive, pin
ing for home, and unconsciously 8 fish
of her old spirit came into Honora's face
"Goodnese, do / look like thst?" She
thought, slightly strengthening herself
tDick, dear Dick! What would you say
if you knew"
"You pose very we'll; you've done IL
before mo doubt" observed the lady OF
the pastels, In tone Of serene patron
age; but Miss Haviland broke in kindly
before Honora had time to reply: "Ob
no." she said, "Nora isn't regular mod
Il. She Just came to oblige us, didn'i
you, Nora?'
"Posel" cried Grace Hunt in q clear
high voice, consulting her watch; the
captive's dimple disappeared; she hasti
ly resumed her station and attitude, and
the sorrowful look again crept over hel
face. The young ladies returned to their
q -ools, and for some moments nothing
} was heard but the squeaking OF chs rcosl