The Wilmington daily Republican., 1901-11-07

understand 1t better"
mo, should father you saw and
understood for yourself. 1t is the
favorite child of my brush, you
know"
| She was silent, silent and beautiful
He was proud Of her, this queenly
woman at his side, with her fashion
clad form. Yes, he was fortunate
! fame and wealth, and handsome and
talented wife.
! "llave you seen that other canvas
! yet The Unfinished pieture?' " She
| asked +
NO, 7 just heard about it to-day.
| ! wonder who the artist is"
They were getting now where the
! streets were more dcnsely thonged.
| The coacl,inan dreH up at last before
THE granite pillars and broad steps of
! Clnre,s gallery. They passed through
the cooling Shadows Of the raulted
| roof 10 where the crowd was denscst,
| but it was some minutes before they
could make their way through the
crowd to "rhe Morning Time
shes not a perfectly beautiful girl.
See. the features are not perfect" :"
some one was saying.
"No but the freshness, the life the
suggestiNenCss of it, Iou almost cX-
pect her to speak. And that bird
why, you can hear it sing
Then Helen McDrrmot was iostled
forward and she saw the pictbre--zher
betrothed's masterpiece.
An orchard scene on Nav morn
ing. a fresh-faced girl had paused be-
meath a tree. She was holding her
apron full of wild flowers. standing
slightly on tip-toe, her lips parted, as
she listened to goldtinch singing
from its perch on Il tall reed 'that
rocked beneath its weight. Farther
off a rustic fence skirted the horizon
and, beyond soft white furrows of
loud along the blue. Above her head
a thrush peeped knowingly at her
from ips nest in the apple-blossoms.
Helen McDermots face grew rudi-
ant with pride and cxutation as
she gazed and as she listened to the
comments of the critics.
"'i'his is Il fine thing over here"
soid Mr.. Arno i'll Rathbury's ear,
The Unfinished Picture
"Oh yes. want to see that. Where
is it? l just heard of it. Yes, see."
IT was the face of Il half-grovn girl
wit brush in hand and paint botches
on her apron. On the easel before
her, an unfinished picture, very impcr-
feet, but with suggestion Of beauty.
But she was gazing away from her
work with wistfUl look at a grey
haired artist who toiled in the back
ground. He needed her not, but paint
ed on. his long white crrIs falling in
medieval fashion about his shoulders.
"The usefulness is perfect, isn't it?"
said Rathbury. "Who is the artist?'
''Some lady. Her name has just
slipped my mind; she's quite young, a
pupil of Saecho's. ! imagine every
body viii know before that picture
hangs here long. Her grandfather
was an artist, they say
Mr.. Rathbury had gone back to Miss
McDermot's side. But he stopped in
sudden surprise. She was still stand
ing before the picture, but one hand
rested Imply on the other, her face
was dropped and all it's joy was gone.
LET us go home" she said coltlly.
"Helen--Miss McDcrlnot, you are
ill.,"
"No, not at all; come"
He led her to the carriage. No
word of congratulation on her lips.
I'm sure you are i'll, Helen"
"No--not ip, thank you. Drive
down Park Avenue. 1t is more se-
cuded there
What is it, Helen? Tell me-"
THAT girl--you have painted the
face of the woman you loved. You
could not have painted like that if"
"My dear, loved the apple-woman,
too, when was painting her.
TAh, but that was a differant love.
Yoh have loved the living, girl here.
That is why people turn from the
apple-woman to look a her"
Her hand was resting lightly on his
arm.
"Don't deceive me, Irving, tell Inc
all. Ours was TO be a friendship
marriage. but there should be per-
feet confidence even between friends.
Can't You tell mr?'
Brokenly and sadly he told his story.
81 would not ask her to sacrifice
herself. You see She had everything,
beauty, and wealth, and youth"
but you say you thought some
times she loved YOU
"Yes, but that was because she was |
so young. She had not begun to live
vet. When she went out into the
world She would soon forget me-
'But suppose she never forgot?'
"That couldn't he. Besides, | loved
Stella Carmnn too deeply in any case
to want to see her marry a man of
my years.
lie did moi notice that the hand on
his arm started slightly Mt the mem
ton Of that name, and the carriage
paused before the door of Elmhurst.
Two days passed. Irving Rathbury
stands by the window OF his country
home he had left the city that night.
The servant hands him Il note.
Dear Irving: have come back to River
side Cottage for few days l have had
the good fortune to find in the painter Of
1.-THE Unfinished Picture a mutual friend
of ours (at least | have known her Of late
years.. She is now my guest, Come down
on the evening train tomorrow, and
bhall be pleased to have you meet your
talented competitor Helen.
"SenSible woman. She is going to