The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1901-10-17
THE TANGLE.

By Mary L. rendered.

| N
n er she might not be able to slip
away without offending her hostess,
when a voice said: miss Cole, NAV
| introduce Mrs. Kynaston to you?''
and in moment she was face to face
with the one woman in the world she
most desired to avoid. 1t had come
upon her so suddenly that she almost
lost her presence of mind, and a leap
of color dyed her face so. richly
that she was painfully aware of it.
The strange futter of her heart and
the mist in her eyes prevented her
for second from either seeing or
hearing distinctly the individual who
was smiling and speaking to her-a
tall, plump woman of middle age, we'll
dressed, comely, with soft, shining
eyes and pretty teeth.
Il have long wished to know you.
Miss Cole" she was saying, for
have heard so much about you, and
love your pictures so Well"
you are very kind" Alison muir
INJURED family. SO this was the vo-
man! She had met her at last, after
Is years.
Yes; it was Is years since she had
played, with James Kynaston, in the
commonest of all tragedies, where
love is the hero, circumstance the vii
liam, conscience the stalking specter.
1t seemed a long whiIe--1j years
when she had passed through Heaven
and hell in six months, entering with
wings and coming out a strange chrys-
ais that was still alive ana able to
notice vaguely the other curious.
wingless things about it. That state
had not lasted either. She had moved
crawled, walked and learned to feel
again, looking back on the past as on
previous incarnation, with but a
faint sense of identity. Nova great
cloud of time was lifted; the old days
were painted before her in a sudden
glare of light. She shranll and trem-
bled.
"You can't think what pleasure you
have given me over and over again"
Mrs. Kynaston went on, gazing with
frank admiration at the paling face in
front of her: those two last pictures
of yours in the Academy-The Way II
and The Way Out-are my favorites OF
all. They are exquisite! The express
sion of the womans eyes in the one
where her lover is seen going away
in the distance haunted me for days.
How can you put such pathos and
life into mere paint and canvas? 1t is
wonderful! But | do not marvel SO
much now that | have seen you"
Her eyes begged question, but
Alison could not ask it, She could
only mutter: 1T is very nice of you"
Mrs, Kynaston, smiling sweetIy, con
tinued:
"Your face tells me plainly that you
know what suffering is, and that you
are full of sympathy for those who
suffer. Am | not right?"
cit is a question of art, you
know" faltered Miss Cole, trying not
to meet the earnest eyes fixed on her.
"And heart. EGt it is all amazing.
I have so often longed to be clever"
"Never do that" Alison exclaimed,
mpetuously. adding, in a lower key:
"Believe me, it is undesirable"
"Undesirable TO be clever! You
cannot mean it. Miss Cole. ! would
give the world to have your genius,
your brain. They would have brought
me a good deal of happiness that |
have missed. But you will not under
stand-I can't explain"
Alison felt cold. The woman's
voice, warm and sweet as it was, had
become a stabbing pain to her; its
note of sadness wrung her heart.
When she spoke again her voice was
husky.
"You are, fear. under a delusion,"
she said 1.-The clever and talented
woman is one of natures mistakes,
freak that had better, perhaps, be
strangled at her birth. Too often
she misses all that is worth having
IN life. For the simple, ordinary wo-
nan the feast is spread, verything
Is prepared. Her notes are all soft
and low, in harmony with the normal
Key; the melody of her fate flows cas-
lily. 1t is otherwise with the woman