The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1900-01-03
BY THEODORE De eANvILLE.

:
NEUROLOGICAL pictures have most de-
lightful modern air. His Grecian god
desses look like Parisiennes. Their wind
blown hair. their high hceled sandals and
peculiar twirl given to their drapery
have captiyated the Partisan ladies. So
they crowd Jacques. studio and implore
him to let them sit for Dianas and An
dromedas. But he is most unromantic
fellow and IL swayed by no considerations
other than those of gain. Although he is
but 80, he has gained fame and some for
tune, and be is so industrious that he flies
from useless words and time consumers
that is to say, women and bores.
A year ago, just after the art exhibit
i closed, Jacques determined to 20 on a
sketching tour. So he packed his trunk,
assisted by bis friend, Eugene de Lassi,
and was bidding adieu to his studio when
the servant entered with note. 1t was
a nice little note, daintily perfumed. and
the address was written in the most deli
cate hand imaginable. He read 1t, frown-
ed and, crumpling it up. threw it on the
floor.
"Conf0und the wOmenw he cried.
"What's the matter?" asked his friend.
"Why, I'm such an unlucky fellow"
replied Jacques. "There's always some
woman or other bothering me, writing
about how she admires my paintings and
how she'd like to see me and all that sort
of thing. Just as II man should say he
would like to see my paintings because
he admired the cut of my beard. Look"
said he, picking up the letter, "'address
Nine. Leonie, such street and num-
ber."
But" said Eugene, who was reading
the note. tits very well written, assure
you, full Of most delicate wit. What are
you going to do with itr'
"Oh, you literary men!" groaned
jacques. what am going to do with
It? Why, burn 1t of course. What do
you suppose am going to do with it?"
"I'll tell you what to do with it," said
Eugene. "You're going away
yes"
"Then give 1t to me-"
"Why, whatll you do with it?" said
Jacques, with a stare.
well, I'll play painter" replied Eu-
gene. "lm not much of one, but can
daub little-enough, at all events, to
deceive woman in love, and I'll find out
who Mime. Leonic' is. That's only part
of her name, I'm sure"
So 1t wns settled. jacques Bruhiere,
painter, set off for Switzerland. and Eu-
gene de Lassi, man of letters, remained
to personate him, but only for Nine. Lee
onie. Other visitors were told the truth
that the master was gone. ~
At last she came. Eugene's romantic
fancy had painted her as young and
beautiful, but she was more than that.
She was divine. She was brunette and
had the most delightful nose. the most
sparkling eyes, the most glorious hair and
the most adorable little hands and feet
that Eugene had ever seen. He fattered
himself that he was correctly made up
for his role. His velvet blouse and jaun-
ty cap were little too clean perhaps,
but that was good fault.
Nine. Leonie wanted her portrait paint
ed, and It was very difficult for her to de-
eide how it should be done. She wavcred
long. One day she would be Omphale,
the next she had decided that to be rep
resented as Salome was necessary to her
peace of mind. But when Eugene had
made his preparations his tickle goddess
decided that Dellah was the character
that suited her, and then she would wan
der around the studio and drape herself
with the barbaric stuffs used by long
gone models and handle the curious
weapons and examine the porcelains, and
then she would say that she was weary
and would come the next day, and she
would 60, leaving Eugene dc Lussi deep
er in love than ever.
+, As for him, he was in a dream. He
had retired from the world. At his own
quarters his door was daily stormed by
publishers. by managers, by printers
boys, by creditors and by friends. But
no one knew where he had gone. He had
told his servants he was going away. but
had not told them where. 1t was wrong,
decidedly wrong, but he took certain
ferocious joy in it when he thought how
he himself had once pursued these same
editors and managers.
Eugene had at last discovered that his
inamorata was a widow, wealthy and of
good family. Her full name was Leonie
de Nores. He had never told his love,
but that she was blind to it was impossi.
bic, yet she was certainly blind to his
painting, for she expressed her admira-
ton of it with an enthusiasm that made
Eugene vince. But one day, when he
was, as usual, attempting to transfer her
to canvas, particularly atrocious tree
which he introduced in the background
attracted her attention.
Jacques" said she, don't you think
that you are-that you are-well, that
you're losing little Of your skillY
"What! shouted Eugene.
Il mean-that is-I'm afraid that
keep you from your work so much
that
~ only hope that you may keep me
from 1t forever" returned the amoruus
Eugene. And so the dangerous moment
passed.
But this state of affairs could not last
forever. One fne day as Eugene was
seated upon divan thinking of his lady
love, who had just departed, who should
enter but Jacques Bruhiere. Yes, there
be was, with his attendant carrying his
his sketch books, his camp |
stools, bis baggage, a. true artist just |
from the country. The false one trem-
bled as be thought that his dream was
over, Had he been Borgia he would
have slain his friend. As he was not he
pressed his hand warmly and babe him
welcome.
But how could he extricate himself
from his dilemma? How could he an
swer to high spirited woman for the de-
ception he had practiced upon her? As
to persuading Jacques to consent to any
arrangement for keeping up the decep.
lion, that was out Of the question. Where
bis art was concerned the painter would
prove as deaf as a post and as unman-
ageable as balky horse. So Eugene
was puzzled.
Finally q bright idea occurred to him.
why not" thought he, "give a comic
urn to the AFFAIR." II properly done,
Leonie will be disarmed. She Is easily
moved to laughter, and then will ex-
,lain and beg her forgiveness"
Alas! Poor Eugene's idea was not a
iappy one.
The next day when Leonie appeared 1t
vas Jacques who met her at the door.
lie was In blouse, cap and carried palette I
md brushes.
"Can l see M. Bruhiere7" she asked
With some little surprise.
THAT 10 my name. madam" replied
be painter.
"You Jacques Bruhierel' said she, with
. amused laugh, and she pushed By him