The Savannah morning news., 1901-10-23

OF triumph for her art. The salons
1rst prize decked her masterpiece. A
most OF friends and connoisseurs pre-
| dicted for her a future wherein fame
and luxury waited at her bidding-and
then came before her that stern white
race. and its eyes held her trembling
in their cold, unwavering stare.
she drew her hands from her face
and looked fiXedly at the dim study
upon the easel above her as she crouch
| ed upon the rug. In the faint light it
seemed the fantastic home of elusive
shadows. Yet as her gaze grew tirmer
the penciled lines started from the
background and revealed themselves
with clearness.
Repentance" a title read below. A
woman in an October wood half
| cleared. She was looking to the west,
where falling sun had nearly crept
beyond her straining gaze. Her hair
had fallen in a wind-d glory be-
hind her. her arms were stretched in
pathetic gesture of recall and invita-
ton, and across her face fell a. somber
| look of wringing longing and re-
| gret. And yet-such is the divine touch
| of genius-one who with clear eye
could read, might have seen in some
Elusive, intangible line the birth of a
golden hope that repentance had not
| come too late; that the swift-falling
| sun would rise once more.
There was a dignity a poise and
grace, an inexpressible pathos in this
lone figure of the wood which stirred
the heart and moved the very soul TO
cry out that the mute prayer must find
an answer; that within the ashes of its
crushed past there must Turk a spark
| which should rise to living flame.
One could not but know, as they
faced each other, in that light of
| shadows, that these two women were
| in truth but one. She who sat dis
heveled upon the rug surely was none
| other than the sun-imploring creature
of the autumn wood. 1t was not that
the likeness of lneament was striking,
| but in the bitter abandonment of pose,
in the wild craving of their speaking
silence in the tender wooing of the
arms which voicelessly called out their
woe, they were the same, and indi-
! visible, one the insensate shadow of a
living cry, one the sensate bodiment
of life-wearing sorrow.
Eleanor sat long, and still. What
tempests tossed her heart in that
deep communion cannot be told. 1t
was herself, her soul, she had linlned
upon her canvased Repentance, and
in the revelations of the night it seem
ed all too plain to her that she had
painted on a signboard the secret of
her heart and invited him who ran to
| read.
The December sun shone in her win
dow when she rose from her strange
vigil by the living dead. There was
newborn resolution in her look. She
laved her face carefully to hide it's
stains of tears. Then she brushed her
glorious crown of hair and put on her
coat.
"A walk will do me good" she said
to herself. The morning is splendid.
AS soon as l can after noon l will
withdraw my picture from the gallery.
IL has told too much already. He, at
least, shall never know
She put on her iaunty fur. hat. A
long look in her mirror told her the
traces Of the night of watching had
vanished beneath the impulses of the
morning. She was still beautiful, no
doubt, despite her score and five of
years, despite the tragedy of her heart.
She tore the study of Repentance
from its easel and thrust it upon the
blazing asbestos log. Then she slowly
and thoughtfully drew on her gloves
The studio bell uttered a long, i'm
perative summons. Eleanor started
sharply. What impossible call was
that? At sunrise? Who could 1T be
abroad so early, or so late? Well, let
them ring. She was not at home.
Again the bell called her, as if in
imperative demand. 1lS tone was mas
culine, demanding. Who could it be?
Well
She flung wide the door.
Upon the threshold stood a figure,
tall. manly, strong, with barred head as
if before a shrine. Out of the dark
eyes set in pallid frame a glance burn
ed in upon her, devoured her, snatched
up her spirit unresisting into it's wild
han hor
her with widestretched arms.
Harold" she cried oh! Har-
old, Have you come at last?"
And they set their faces to the East,
where the risen sun spread new
glory across the snowy world.