The representative., 1901-05-09
A HOPELESS LOVE

Tomorrow"
There was SO much incredulous, passion
ate pain In the mans voice that even
naughty LenOre Glenco turned little pale;
yet, other men-prouder men-who had
conquered fortune and wrung laurels from
the reluctant hand of fame, had bent as
low before her beauty and her power as
did this struggling artist-this stranger
whom her father had employed to paint her
in all her languid loveliness.
Tomorrow" he said once more, with
working lips. II did not know it-I did
not dream it. Tomorrow"
naughty anger iignted in her azure
eyes: then the long golden lashes hid
them. and she swept the draperies of vel
vet aside and looked once more at the
portrait on the easel Her own face, calm
and regal and alluring, her own form.
with all it's sovereign grace.
You seem very much surprised, Herr
Griswold,'' she said slowly, in chill musi-
cal accents. "Yet l fancy most of the
people who have heard of me know that
on the morrow I become bride. I am
glad the portrait is finished; l could not
give another sitting. and I wished my
father to have this reminder Of me- You
have made of 1t marvellous likeness
albeit triaing fiattering. I will send my
father to you. and now will bid you fare
well.''
She allowed the velvet to fall and hide
the portrait, and with a slight inclination
of her stately, sunny head, turned away
But she had not gone half a dozen steps
when the young man darted before her
and flung himself on his knees at her feet,
lifting q face as white as sea foam to the
light that came redly in from the western
window.
"Oh, do not leave me SO! know my
presumption, my madness, but listen; let
me say 1t once In words-I have told you in
q hundred ways unreproved-I love you'll
love you'll"
The eyes Of the beautiful girl fairly
flashed, then grew cruelty cold and hard as
blue steel.
"Unreproved?" she said, haushtily. DO
you know why. sir painter? Because we do
not reprove what we do not deign to no.
tice. What madness has made you forget
that am the daughter Of Baron Glenco, the
afianced of the Marquis LIE Noir? While
you-you have been employed by my father
to but paint me, as you have DONE Rise,
Herr Griswold. or at least suffer me to
pass"
"Oh, for the love Of pity, leave with me
bat touch OF your hand-but a single
word!" he prayed. II know how true it all
is that you have said; but I am mad-mad!
And tomorrow you become a bride Oh
bend to me once: lay your hand even on my
hair, and 1 will forever bless you! am
dying Of my love!'
His voice broke into sobs-hoarse.
strained sobs-that lifted his bosom con-
vulsively and shook his whole slight, grace
: ful form; the masses Of rich hair had
: grown damp on his forehead; his eyes had
such a pain In them as comes to the eyes
Of q stricken deer.
But the woman before him, held there by
the hands fastened in her velvet dress did
not soften, did not bend; instead, a slow.
angry. naughty color flushed her fawless
face.
"You are mad!" she said coldly. scorn-
fully, drawing her robes from his tremu-
3ous hands, and erecting her golden head
with a more than human pride. II bend to
you! / lay my hand in yours! Let me
again remind you that am q mobiles dausf-
ter, and royal blood is In my veins. You
have surely forgotten that I am not q
peasant, to whom your love would be well
come and your emotion a compliment"
Hear me! Say one kindly word to
prove that you are human and can feel for
me. az even q queen might feel for one
who loved her without hope! because the
same God created usi Spare me your
eeorn!" he prayed. agonixedly.
But she drew beyond the reach Of his
ioutstretched hands, turned, In the warm
nunset glow, and went-slowly. languidIy,
notwithstanding him there alone in the
naRnihcent light Of the dying day, prone,
a he had flung himself, face downward
on the polished oalen door. Quivering. shud-
dsring stricken unto death almost, by tho
sce9n ahs had lung frcm her eyes upon
IN H. ths llueA = - srsast dons yoa