Arizona republican., 1899-01-28

ablc-looll here, now. Lcnz, if I'd known you were coming"
 '.Yes, Eric; I understand. Come right on. When we're at home we can talk it over"
 At home they did talk it over When Alonzo had heard everything, and when said, with kind of dogged dullness, to Erie:
 II suppose it's all up with me- l might as well send in my resignation at once.''
 ''Nonsense,' replied Erie.
 What I did, you know, was great breach of etiquette"
 ''The king isn't a slave to etiquette" ''Still, 1 rushed off at scandalous haste. What acould you do? Write him a letter and confess everything?"
 '.Yes," Eric said, after q reflective pause. ''That's precisely what I would do, my dear friend. And if you want truthful as you can manage"
 ''What do you mean, Eric?"
 Don't let the full facts transpire Don't tell Clarimond how badly you be- haved to th;st poor girl"
 
 badly." said Alonzo, as he quilted the room to write his proposed letter.
 It was now almost dark, and dinner would be served at eight Alonzo lighted the studio and then seated him self at his writing desk. The words were slow in coming; he felt the exces- sive awSwardness of this placating cpistle, and yet did he not owe it to 1,., L. his protector? Would not silence in him be churlish at such time as this?
 Suddenly certain thought crossed his mind, and he rose, Ainging his pen aside. In one corner of the room stood his easel, draped. He drew back its covering and looked at the canvas thus revealed. It was the picture of Kath- lecn.
 Just before leaving for Munich he had given the portrait what he felt were his absolutely final touches. He had not known then how good it was how definitely and vitally the witch ing head bloomed forth from shadow. Yes, Erie had been right His powers were of the slow and brooding sort: they were like those of the poet who must "beat his music out" in travail of self distrust. But here was plainly masterpiece, nevertheless. And yet, as he watched this perfect portraiture of women whom re still hungrily loved, though she was lost to him forever, a sense of the terrific irony of such a picture pierced him to the soul. The very excellence of it's art would be an incessant jcer. Why had he not fore seen this? An abrupt desire to ruin the picture now swept down upon him, oddly blended with the egotism of the creator, an clement always potent in every true artists mind. He actually seized his palette knife and stood un- decided as to whether he should rip the work into tatters or spare it for future hours of mingled happiness and grief.
 While he thus hesitatcd, q knock sounded at the studio door. s'Come in,' he said, startled, casting the palette knife on the floor, and turning to meet, as he supposed, Erie Thaxter.
 But it was not Erie. To his very great consternation, it was the king
 Clarimond seemed reposc itself. 'sYou must pardon me- he said, ''sfor intrud- ing upon you like this No doubt bore you horribly. I do not? That is pleasant to hear. Pray let me take this chair, and .u-will you have the kind ness to sit near me? That is right, wanted to stretch out my hand to you and clasp it for moment-lilze that. Yon see, am certain you are very un- happy, and when my friends are uphap- py I am always full of sympathy for them" Cc
 The kings hand was pressing his own wkilc Alonzo, with dropped eyes, rnurmured:
 ''Oh, monsieur, have behaved with an immense vulgarity!''
 ''Vulgarity?" said Clarimond, in voice, which had the effect of giving his listener chance to escape from the tolls of embarrassment, just as the young sovereign's marvellous tact l had no doubt suggested to him that it would do. ''Vulgarity," he went on, ! lis the intimate ally of passion. And passion is naturalness. We cant always | keep the landscapes of our lives full of | clipped shrubs, like an Elizabethan gar den. Tell me, now, mon Gnli, were you not once engaged to marry this Mile. | 
 ''Yes, monsieur"
 ''So l gathered, from the tumultuous things that her mother said after you | left. MademOlselle scarcely spoke at | all. Her mother had an extraordinary amount to say"
 And against myself, of course, mon- sieur!''
 The king stared for a moment down at the carvcn agate of his cane handle. We'll" he at length said, smiling, ''she was not mercifuI to you. But did not believe her, and it struck me that did not believe her. either. You will think me a sad busybody-"
 You, monsieur?"
 But I should be glad to hear your version of the affair. Shall 1 tell you why?" He spoke with marked eager ness, and yet the instant that his eyes fairly met those of Alonzo he averted his look and went on in queerly- | altered voice: ''It is because the young