Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1902-03-13
D THE 3
DEFENS E
BY w. B. BARRETT.


Copyright 1901, BY Authors syndicate)
TT WAS showing when Eleanor re-
turned from the private view. The
air was bitter the wind wintry. She
was glad to reenter the coziness Of her
silent studio, its light, its warmth; to
see the CHEEKY welcome Of the flicker
ing gas log which in her bedchamber
adjoining initiated in its humble ashes
tos way the cordial greeting of pine.
Burson, good chap had left her at the
studio door, though he had looked
longingly at the comfort within, and
she knew he would have stayed if she
had asked him more cordially.
Still, she had asked him. Her con
science must have been clear on the
score of gentle hospitality-el why
should she so petulantly have flung
her sealskin coat across an easel and
sunk istlessly into Morris chair
which commanded at once the speak
ing study for a canvas before it and a
view through the archwayof the blink
ing asbestos.
He needn't have looked so wistful,"
she murmured, discontentedly. 81 did
ask him to come in and get warm.
said: Perhaps it's too late, but you
can toast yourself a minute before
you start for The north side, if you
want to- Ungracious? Well, why does
he bother me? Didn't he have me
the whole evening, and to supper, too?
Isn't that enough?
"And how he praised my picture!
How all Of them did, indeed. They
were awfully good, and yet"
She rose restlessly and walked up
and down as a man might, Bohemian
that she was, pausing at last before
the easel in the semi-darkness.
Sand yet" she went on. in passion
ate multitone which still was little
more than whisper after all, "what
good is ii all? What do / care whether
they praise or damn? What do care
whether my work is good or i'll? What
are wreaths and coronets when ones
heart is hungry for love, and love is
fled away, driven by FOOLS laugh?
OH"
And now in storm Of bitterness, she
sank shudderingly upon the rug be-
meath her, her hands upon her eyes.
and flow Of tears wet them with their
kindly solace.
She saw again, in fancy, the gay
crowding Of the view" A galaxy of |
beauty gowned in the seasons bril-
liancy Of color. We'd with the art which |
decked the walls. There had been
frou-frou Of rich stuffs, tinkle of
well-bred merriment, hum Of con
ventioual compliment. Across il all. |
blottiug out the lights, the canvases,
hushing the gayety, rose again his face. |
as She had seen it that afternoon, |
across q vista Of other faces, pale. i'm I
mobile, seeming to have suffered. seem |
ing still to suffer, bearing cross and /
frozen into a grim and enduring ST.
lence. She had looked long upon that
face, until her own color had deserted /
cheek and lip and fed back TO the tn
multi Of her fast-beating heart. Then
she had beckoned the faithful Burson
md precipitately left the gallery. And
now2
Yes, now, what? Harold was back.
after those years. But what was that
10 her; what could II be2 She who had
in ashes strewn her heart and hooded
her face in sackeloth because one little
NO" had changed her life and his
what was there now to do to set it
right?
Not upon a Haunting sleeve can a
woman weave her heart. She had said
No and he had gone away. He was
come again. but her NO must stiIl he
vocal and sing in her ears its cruel
harshness. She had cast him away. her
pearl Of men; it was to art she would
be wed, she had said, as If disdaining
tingling human pulses and caressing
arms; to art cold, lofty, high. exalted
and exalting art. She had aspired to be
lifted up-and the little god had with
the crooking Of his tiny. remorseless
finger cast her down and sown bram-
5les where his arrow festered.
Three yearsl Godsi How she had
: frfWfrr 80 &. .