The Wilmington daily Republican., 1901-11-07
Across the Barrier Of Years.
By Maude Petit.
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J 7 UST four O'clock and First avenue
| u was out in its best blacks and
shining silks tlan>ed by dizzy move
ment Of prancing steeds and automo-
hiles. l11mhurst, The handsome resi-
! dencc of the McDermots, was con
scious Of tho dignity derived from its
| massive carvings, its frownng tur-
| rets. its granite pillars. Even the
| flowers on the terrace seemed to I'M
derstand they were First avenue flow
! ers, aud the ivy cIung to the walls
| as fashionable ivy should. A gent e-
| man was ringing the door bell, car
| rage waiting by the boulevard.
''Do you know that man?" asked
passerby of his companion.
"No, | don't think do"
"lt's Rathbury. the artist, the
painter Of that picture that's making
such Il sensation down AT CIairc's now
let me see, what do they call it-oh
The Morning-Time.' >"
ooh, yes, | was in to scc that yes
terdny. isn't it simply sublime? Such
commonplace scene. too, but the
life!-the life in it,"
"Yes it's wonderful. They say it's
settled thing between him and Nc
Dermot's daughter
Meanwhile the great door of Elm
hurst closed, upon its guest, and he
was seated in the cooling shadows of
the oss-green drawing room to
await its mistress. Z he mirrors re-
fected a man consid ,rably past 40.
sallow and>qu!tr gray, a face stamped
with refinement and culture. 1t had
been a struggle 10 his present fame
and success. one which in his youth
he had never thought of asking wom-
an to share. In fact, oddly enough.
in his carly years he had never loved.
and like many another man.of genius
he had mistakenly concluded he was
welded 10 his art. His Old house
keeper gave him periodic doses of ad-
vice such as you'll nae be a-marryin'
now. Folks that want to marry
should marry young. When they get
past middle life, if they take a young
I'm she's too siitii fur them. and.if
they take an old TN like themselves
they're both too fixed and crabbit in
their ways to give in the one to the
t'other."
But in spite Of Mrs. Mulfct's opin-
ion he had wearicd st last of a life
that seemed TO him incomplete and
1,1 =, l,1 ,,I,, Ia. =
decided to marry, for friendship.
Now Mrs. Matchmaker. of First ave-
nue., was quick to read his thoughts
when he came to tt" city last fall,
and pointed out TO Inn the talented
magazin" writer. Miss McDermot. SO
ii came thar he spent many an even
ing in the mossgreer drawing room
discussing Carlyle, and Turner and
Rembrandt and RuShin. She found
him decidedly more interesting than
the port'y banker whose suit her
father favored. For who but Irving
Rathbury had such subtle under
standing of browning and Shelley and
all those other beings that pcoplcd
her thoughts? Besides Mrs. Grundy
told her it was quite a prnpos. and
Mrs. Grundy understands those
things. Love? All well--not quite,
but there was at least talent'>and
friendship.
As for Mr. Rathbury. he told him
self again and again that he was taxi
ing wise step, and yet at times he
had to brush another face hastily
from his memory. Ouce--but it had
all happered seven years ago-he had
gone to the country residence Of an
old artist to study, and voice had
thrilled him there. A light form
fitted about the house, painted a lit
tie, sang Il little, read thick volumes
and sat on her gra'afather's knee
There she was caroling across the
great drawing room with an apron
full of May flowers, only the ear
pct was the orchard grass with
green boughs and robin songs
above. She came right up to the
canvas where he worked, this
spritc with her fresh cheeks aud her
hat tossed back on her sunny hair.
She grew still and watched him with
those wonderful eyes of hers, and
when he opened to her his hearts
ideals she understood; and he felt
nh, well. never mind. For he was al
most 40 aud she was but Is
A word just now might win her.
For what? Regret? She was n child
rs yet and he was twice her years.
Bind her to fame and gray hairs?
Nay, She shone farest there. She
was part of all this brightness of stars !
and forest and wind-swept meadows.
Some day fine young soul like her
own would love her and this would be |
their Eden.
Thus for him it ended. Years |
passed two, three. four, tive-cach
bringing more silvcry hairs and fresh
larrcls Once he went back again; |
he old artist had died, the place was
sold, deserted, weed"grown. and he
could find nothing of her where
abouts. She was probably married
now, and he rcsolutcl, closed his eyes
to the past But hush! What trail
1orous thoughts are there? Is he not
engaged TO his friend, itelen Gretchen
McDcrmot, beautiful still at IS? Be I
sides SHE is clever and writes books,
you know.
A sweep of silk rns,ed down the
stairs, and ,he almost shakes himself
as he hurries his thoughts back to
First avenue.