Evening journal., 1899-07-21
THEIR BOHEMIAN JOY

"no aioo hetuleu TO De the elder this is uu-
worthy Of your brushl"
lie examined the picture again and said
emphaucaily; Its daubl Why, it looks
IKE you d thrown your brush at the canvas
ana let the pant stay where it spattered.
NO you need not try to stop me, for m 60
ing TO hnish- l repeat it, your picture is a
work and ! can't see YOU turning ont such
things, even fofpotboilers. without protest.
Wen, tortescue," drawled Van. with ex
asperating coolness, III you're through allow
me 10 say that the picture YOU revile so IN.
mereiiully IS the work Of my sister, who ia
AZ the present moment standing behind YOU.
Allow me to present you. Florence. MIR.
tortescue. Ny sister, Miss Van, who has
come 10 stay with me, Fortescue."
Then smiling little maliciously Van van.
lshed and the two so inauspiciousy intro.
dueed were lett alone.
A faithful portraiture of Fortescue's face
/ at tins moment would have made fame and
fortune Tor any artist that could have paint.
cd It, As he looked at the beautiful girl be.
lore him he realized instantly that he had
spohen words which he would have given his
| an TO recall, and yet there was no escape
from them. His criticism of the picture an.
| phed with equal force to the girl as it would
nave TO her brother had he painted it,
and 1t would but aggravate his predicament
to attempt TO excuse them. And yet
But the young lady broke the silence be
tween them, and put an end to his thoughts
OF an excuse
SO you utterly condemn my poor at.
tempt, Mr.. Fortescue?' she said, gently.
Il was a brutel" he exclaimed, impetu.
ously Pray forget my rude criticism. You
Know l thought it was Van and-and-" he
ended helplessly.
And the faults being mine" said Miss
! Florence, with a little laugh, "are not so
glaring. lie, Mr.. Fortescue, has art two
standards, one for men and another for
women! No, | fear my picture is as hope
less as you made it out and that can never
hope to make my living by painting"
You may improve with practice, or, if
you find that portraits or landscapes are be-
yond you, there are lots Of things you eau
employ your brush on-fancy folde-rols for
women's toilet tables, Christmas cards and
that sort Of thing, you know"
Do you think a poor painting does
harm!" she asked cautiously.
Yes, indeed, lie replied, quickly forget.
ting the personal nature Of the question; st
does harm to the painter, who lowers his
I NAN1 tAA ~ NAeaN nAD EeIl Vl AZ de we'll
well, Mr.. Fortescue, / will never be
guilty Of lowering my art again." she said.
! "And lest this poor picture do any harm,
will send it to the Home for the Blind, to be
used as a fire screen"
Fortescue, almost confident that she was
laughing at him, looked up sharply, but her
innocent blue eyes were raised to his so con.
hdingly he thought he must be mistaken.
Then, dropping the subject of the con.
demned picture, she began to talk so enter.
tainingly Of experiences in Paris studios,
: with which Fortescue was also familiar, that
when Van returned he found the pair he had
expected to see at daggers points chatting
like old friends.
Fortescue stayed 20 tea that night, lit.
T tie bohemian meal served IN the studio, at
which Miss Florence presided with much
grace
1t was the first of many meals which he
took with them, sometimes giving lhtle
feast in his own apartments, which were
close by. Fortescue seemed to be as happy.
go-lucky in his manner Of living as the Vans,
sometimes painting feverishly for days to-
; gether, only to draw the brush over the can.
vas and obiterate the images he had created
because they did not come up to his ideal.
Occasionally he would boast of selling a
picture and would then invite his two friends
= over to an impromptu fete, only to be round
2 ly scolded by Miss Fortescue for his extrav
agance.
''But l am not entirely dependent upon
my work" he declared, protestingly, after
5 such a scoldmg one day, "and as for extrava
eance you are not the one to talk. How
often have L seen you empty your purse
Lady Bountiful, among the little avenue
b. waiis~
r Mistaken identity" said Miss Florence
coolly, "lm not the only woman with short
light curls in the city"
"The only one in the world to me,
s murmured Fortescue, softly, so that only
Z she could hear; and there and then, "a
Van conveniently removed himself to far
off easel, in a few earnest, manly words For
tescue asked her to be his wife.
p "lf you win only marry me. Florence
Z dearest, you viii be q constant inspiration
great picture with you for my beautiiu
, model"
! "If ! thought that, really believe" sale
( she. slowly and solemnly, Il would almos'
be willing to marry you. Besides, as the
wife of the rising young artist John Fortes
cue, | would not have to paint 'folderols fol
q ladies' dresses, Christmas cards and all that
you know for my living" Then she bursi
into such a peal Of silvery laughter that
Van, in his distant corner, turned to star'
b at her.
h Florence Van Middlesworth, you're s
fraud" said her lover, eyeing her with al
attempt at severity.
John Fortescue Holiday, you are an
r other" returned Miss Florence, trying tS
T evade his arm, which would slip round hei
waist
"How long have you known?" he de
2 manded
"Well, replied his prisoner, "the very day
after / first met you ! had a letter from
Cousin Fan warning me to be on the look
r out for an impostor named John Fortescu
n Holiday, a man of artistic temperament
NJ who played bohemian three months out o.
the year in some obscure quarter Of the city
r A rank impostor she called you. Perhaps
= she kindly enlightened you also in regard tC
meg"
Holiday laughed a laugh Of intense de
light as he answered
Mo- my informant was very charming
4 old gentleman whom met in Paris just be
- fore returning here. He told me he had