The Press., 1903-12-03
A REAL A A FALSE FACE
By ALEC BRUCE

"Gustave Vernon, Theatrical Supplies and Fancy Costume Maker" Above the door in big gilt letters that is mon sieur's sign, and but for 1t any one passing along the dingy alley would wonder why the enterprising agent had not invaded with his monotonous For Rent" Against the paint blistered door and windows a cheap green cheese cloth, crumpled and faded, screens off the broad interior. To street view there is nothing on display, nothing save the intricate weavings of the spider and the inevitable remains of his unwary victim.
 Inside, however. all is different. The store is large, low in the ceiling and when without artificial light very dark, for the alley Is narrow, and the build ings on the opposite side are high. But if 1t Is dark monsieur Is saving in his light bill, and there is luster, mys- terious sheen, prevailing the entire room. On varicolored pedestals rising in tiers on every side from floor to cell ing stand hundreds of glittering fig ures. Some are wax, some wooden, some papier mache, warriors in bur- nished coats of mail, kings and knights in purple and gold, queens and ladies in silver and silks, crowns and coro- nets, spears and shields. serpents and dragons everything in the world of tinsel and spangles. And here and there. cunningly shaded beneath pow erful refectors, a few ruby electric bulbs do duty for fifty light chande- Her, and the effect Is mellow, pleasing, not dazzling, as monsieur would like 1t to be.
 In the false face corner. the darkest in the store, sits a girl. mere silhou- cite against the yawning archway leading to the gallery above. She is small trim figure In a dark blue skirt and white shirt waist. Her face is small and pale, set in wealth of Jet black hair twisted smooth and high, with glittering butterfly aigret f1ut- tering in 1t. and she is painting, paint ing whiskers on bluff King Hal. On the table before her she has all the colors and implements in the professional art ist's box. and she paints with the Japa- nese deftness of touch-one, two, three, a curl, a curve, a daub, and the thing is done.
 Above her dainty head hangs heter ogeneous stock of faces, life size and wonderfully lifelike-Richard the Lion Hearted scowling at RObespierre, Svengali sneering at the pope, smil- ing Gibson girl ogling the sulky Ma poleon. and far down. down on the floor, sits his majesty on ashes of clin- kered sin.
 In the store all is quiet not the tick ing of a clock, not the purring of a satisfied cat, not even a street urchin whistling in the alley outside, just an occasional little sniff from mamselle's sensitive nose.
 Suddenly a door opens out from the wall above. Unless you saw it open you wouldn't believe 1t was a door. It has been very carefully cu- in the par tition, and the partition is \stained a dull olive green. There are many such cunning little stage traps in Gus tave's, and it was Gustave himself who popped out his crisp. curly head.
 "Junie," he whispered, looking anx- iously down at the trim little figure be- low.
 "Ah, mon pere," she breatbed, smil- ing up into his face, "surel3 you are early, mine. NJ. Nugent, he will not come until 4. and give heem one hour. M. Hammond. he will comeat 5. and"-
 "But eet is now, Junie, past 4, my child" said Gustave softly.
 Flush! Footsteps! Ma foi, mon pere, he comes! In, In. monsieurw
 Click! The partition door closed tight. Svengan and the pope swung outward to the length of their strings and still moved when MT. Nugent came up to the little table.
 "Junie," he began, very tenderly.
 "Oh, M. Nugent" she responded, with swift upward glance, and went on retouching the royal Bluebeard.
 For moment he gazed dreamily on the smooth, black hair coils, bent a trihe lower than need be. Was it the ruby light? No! At least so he promptly decided when he caught sight of the widening tinge of pink on her rounded cheek
 "Junie," he repeated earnestly.
 Monsieur" she whispered, warning ly and with a roguish twinkle in her eye, you see I am very busy. Mon pere is behind. But iv eet is anyzing you want to buy zen of course am here to attend"
 "Junie," he murmured, and his voice trilled and trembled, you know that what want is priceless. I cannot buy it. No man can ever buy 1t. Junie, I want love, your love, my Junie," and, throwing discretion to the winds, he came perilously near the table.
 She laid King Henry aside and dis posed of the paint brush where 1t could do no harm.
 Flush, hush, monsieur" she caution ed, and her eyes travelled swiftly over the gallery of masks. Why that faint, dickering smile? Was 1t a smile? In- voluntarily, but only for an instant, his gaze followed hers. Yes, 1t was smile, and it spelled encouragement for him. With a confidence born of the dark and solitary corner, he seized her small white hand and looked hungrily into her eyes. Indignant. she tried to jerk it away. but he only clasped 1t tighter, drawing nearer, nearer, till she felt the warmth of his breath on her face.
 'I love you, I love youp' he cried pas | sionately. No. no, do not shrink from mo, Junie. You used not to shrink from me" He made to kiss her. but she | turned her head away. "Junie," he pleaded, you kissed me last night | Why-ah! perhaps you do not believe me, but I have money, dearest It will | be yours-yours and-and mine, Junie. | And we will go away, far away He stopped suddenly when she hung her head and allowed her hand to rest quietly In his.
 And we will be married, monsieur?" she whispered.
 For moment he did not answer A dark flush stained his cheeks, spread quickly to his neck and ears as she brought her sparkling orbs to his.
 "Ye-es, Junie."