Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1901-06-30

curtaine with smilax. The idea has
been the rage ever since, only it's hor-
ridly expensive. That slip OF a girl.
too, She's not even stylish. Lady
Emilia wouldn't be fattered. can as
sure you. What minute, my dear, !
must positively find out who she Is"
The loquacious lady turned away to
seek information, just as Francis Os-
borne, with the object of her specula-
tion on his arm. passed by. The twelve
months that had gone since that night
in Paris when he broke his chains, had
aged him in appearance; he had lost
his boyish air and fined down In some
way difficult to describe. Still, there
was nothing gloomy In his bearing; it
was only more subdued.
Don't look at your catalogue,
Frank" his companion was saying.
Don't lok at it yet. I've something to
tell YOU"
II was not going to look at my cata-
logue, Miss Marplot," he answered:
looking down at the girl beside him
with smile. Observe that I am car
rying it religiously closed. was max
ing straight for certain picture (No.
sos, think it isl, and, arriving before
it, was going to strike an attitude, and
exclaim: by Jove! TShe best bit In
the gallery! Who is the MANI"
81 sent. it in," the girl went on hur-
riedly, never thinking it would be sue
cessful. When it was accepted l hardly
believed it, and felt sure that its fate
would be to be crowded OUT
rs 1t so very big, them"
ct looked big in the studio, dare
say it looks like cabinet photo here.
l don't know; didn't come to see it on
vanishing day."
Upon my word Eva, you look like
some feminine Eugene Arum compelled
to visit the scene OF your crime. Are
you afraid of seeing the work beside
those of your big brothers in art?''
"Oh, no, I'm not afraid Of that"
"Then what is it? Why don't you look
gay? You are certainly not the typical
young artist before the shrine of new
born success"
IL only want you to be pleased,
and l am not sure you will be-
Am | such a stern critic then?' He
spoke lightly, his eyes rowing over the
walls for the figures in the corner OF
each frame. Suddenly he arrested him
self and stood with the girl on his arm
before moderately large canvas, hung
but little above the line
"Ah. This is the picture"
'Yes.' The girl cast one hasty glance
at her work, and then fixed her eyes
on her companions face as he stood
steadfastly regarding it.
1t was not daringly original either in
treatment, or in the selection of the
| subject; but it had a tenderness and
grace which spoke for it. The lines
| which gave a title to the work, and
followed the number on the catalogue,
were those familiar to the world:
THE stately ships sail on to the haven
under the hill,
| And oh. for the touch Of a vanished
hand and the sound of voice that
| is STILL"
| Under the shimmering sky on wood
ed promonotory, beyond which cleaned
an inlet of the sea, woman in widows
weeds sat with her head resting on her
hands. That was all the picture con-
| talned; suggestion of the joyousness
of nature, in bright, clear atmosphere,
verdant foliage, and sparkling water,
and on the woman's face traces of pas.
sion burnt out, and the lassitude of an
unutterable loss.
| "You have done well, Eva; your pic
ture deserves its place" The man spoke
at last gravely and slowly.
"Ah! But you do not forgive me for
having painted it.
| They had both turned away. as II nv
mutual consent, and had mingled again
with the crowd
! Forgive! i have nothing to forgive,