The Leon reporter., 1901-07-25
edwin Brown% repeated Anne.

Edwin BROWNE" repeated Anne.
shone more brightly upon us. If the
thought of me interferes with your art
or arrests your study in any way put
me from your mind. l can't bear to
feel that should be hindrance or
drag to you" Here Anne
stopped reading because she could no
longer discern the written words
through the mist of tears that had
gathered over her eyes. She felt blind
ly about for a handkerchief to bravely
dab them away. that she might go on
with the letter, which continued in the
tenderest phrases to assure her of his
constant. unfailing love. She knew
that he was sincere; that her welfare
was all that actuated the letter.
"How like him." she murmured.
mo other man but Edwin could write
love letter like that, and 1 hope he
never will again; / could not stand
it,
When at last she fell asleep, the
letter was clasped in her hands, which
lay folded on the steamer rug, an ad-
dition to the ,scanty bedding on her
cot, and her breath came in quick
gasps, like the sobs of little child.
The "atelier" was crowded when
she went to her work in the wet clay
the next morning, and she hoped to
gain her own corner without attract
ing attention. But her pale cheeks
did not escape the notice of the tall
American who was perpetrating sad
ly misshapen figure near her own
we'll blocked out work.
"Are you not we'll, Miss Weber?" he
asked, with note in his voice of
deeper feeling than the occasion
seemed to demand.
"Quite well, thank you," Anne re-
piled wearily, and the young man
looked at her reproachfully. He want
ed to tell her that she was doing al
together wrong, abusing her health,
wasting her strength, and, worst Of
all, breaking his heart, but experience
had taught him that 1t was not safe
ground of conversation.
1t was the day on which the master,
the great Partisan sculptor, was ex-
pected to criticize, and Anne applied
herself assiduously to her clay, which,
under her deft fingers, rapidly grew
more and more like the model.
81 am through with this" said the
young man at length. Il have tested
my artistic ability and found that 1
can't even mold snow man." He
scornfully chopped off the nose of his
clay figure, which only added another
deformity to the already maimed-look-
ing creature.
"My old man always said that art
was not in our blood, but wanted to
see for myself, and it didn't take me
long. Don't think have not realized
how impossible my work is, but I
have stayed in the atelier-you know
why-and I'll stay yet if you will give
me any hope.' he added eagerly.
''No, don't stay Anne replied, soft
ly. He was such dear boy she could
not be anything but gentle to him.
well, then" he said, disconsolate-
| ly, I'll throw art over and go into
the string business with Dad, as he
has always wanted me to do"
'That will be better, am sure
said Anne, smiling at the mutilated
torso, for the young man had been
carelessly hacking it while he talked
"The old man is certainly dead anx.
4 ious for the prodigal's return, for
/ got a fifty-dollar cablegram from him
| this morning, asking me to pull uI
stakes and go at once. The dear OLD
chap wants junior partner, now bus
i IN So h,,i1 orb hoe ,oI
won a tremendous lawsuit against 8
trust; some daring young lawyer car.
ried the thing through. and Dad il
crazy over him. He wrote me some
time ago that If the suit was won ht
intended to retain the chap as per
manent counsel for the company. Il
will be the making of Edwin Bowen
whoever he isl"
Edwin Bowen?" repeated Anne
| ,questioningly.
Eyes. Edwin Bowen. My old mar
even put his name in the cable, say
ing the suit was won."
). Edwin Bowenv Anne said again.
why, do you know him?"
i eyes, very well. indeed" she an
4 swered, and then sho> fell in a littl'
heap on the damp atelier floor, ant
the students who rushed to aid tn
young man in bringing her out Of tn
faint, spoke together Of the seriou
consequences Of overwork, and the.
all determined to be more moderat
than ever.
AS soon as she felt strong enougl
to walk she started back to her room
in Rue Servandoni, and the concierg
met her at the door Of the tall, top
Ming fno11se with a look of alarm. fo