The Wilmington daily Republican., 1901-11-07
UB1ICAN! WILMINGTON, NOVEMBER

with here and there groups OF e]ms
spreading their graceful branches at
the little bends and curves. One star
shone, pale, in the amethyst of even-
ing, while the far-of melody of home-
ly music came floating from some
waysde cottage.
She was thinking of her work.
"The Unfinished Picture" There
was touch lacking somewhere. The
world appluudcd but she was work.
tng for an immortal idea. And TO such
souls what is mems applause?
She shaded her eyes for a moment
oh, if She could but see that vision
once again! Often It's she worked II
face had started up before her With
all the reality of life. What. though
those locks We're gray, it was the face
of thc nan She loved. She loved
Ah, yes, that was where the trouble
lay. She could not turn her eyes
from fcasting on the vision to toll
ing on the canvas. Her hand was
paralyzed, and it faded ere she caught
it.
Still she sal with closed eyes. mop
ing. Iiaif-hushed bird murmnrings
III the night woods. Little rheeping
voices that would not be stiIYed hut
iain would wake and cry like the
l9ngings in her soul. Nay! 1t would
not come, the vision that she. sought.
She opened her eyes again to the
evening light, and 10! there by the
screen Of the vcranda flowers was her
long-lost vision. TAe same full brow
the eyes of fire and dreams. All. she
had never been able to call his face
up like his before She had it now
the touch she lacked before! But
word, breath and it would fade as
her other dreams had done. She
leaned forward with parted lips and
bated breath.
'Stella!"
ut is the living" and she
gasped and was still.
"les it is |, the living Irving Hath-
bury"
For one moment they looked into
each others eyes, and the pent-up
feelings of seven years We're told
without word. Then she realize d she
had betrayed herself, and her cheeks
were crimson and purple by turns.
And he became suddenly conscious
of his honor there on Helen MeDer-
mot's threshold.
"And so you are the artist of THE
Unfinished picture?" he said coldlv.
Yes, but don't let that make me
forget l am 10 play hostess. Be
seated. Miss McDcrmot is out, but
will be back soon.'
Strange thought he, she should |
be out on the appointed evening, and
leave me alone with Stella Carman."
But ii all seems like fairy story,
Miss Carman. l do remember now
you did paint when | knew you"
"Yes. | daubetl little even then,
but you didn't condescend to see it,"
Then an embarrassing silence came
between them and they made efforts
at conversation.
He mentioned her grandfather, and
they were able to talk freely for few
minutes. Then came more layers OF
made conversation, more lulIs of ST
lence, with a splendid icing of conven-
the slopes.
The stars grew thick on the little
river at the garden foot and in the
sky above. Then he bethought him
self that he must catch the night
train for the city; regretted Miss Nc
Dcrmot was out, was pleased to have r
met Miss Carman, etc, and the two i
artists on the veranda steps said !
good night as coldly as if she had new
rr inspired himwith the face in "The i.
and he had never CIV ;
nn her "rhe Unfinished Picture"
A woman walked along by the SOL ,
emn river-1uict that night, Gods stars
overhead.
Marry my friend and crush two
|ives Never"
And in that hour Helen McDermot's {
face grew beautiful, passing all the
beauty it had ever won before.
There was a years delay, and the
world waited still to see the nuptials :
ot Irving Rathbury and Helen McDcr.
mot. And Il man hesitatcd long be-
ween broken lives and broken
'oW. .
But Helen wayeret not in the role
she had chosen, and two happy people
Iever forgot her generous sacrifice.
Canadian Magazine.