The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1903-09-23
CHAPTER VI.

the door. ! do not fear LIN, De Will
trouble US no more"
She looked so confident and yet so
discouraged, that he did not know
what to say. 1t seemed dreadful to
leave her thus, and yet neither in look
nor tone could he discover any induce
ment to stay. All the light had gone
out of her face. and she seemed only
a waiting image, eager for him to be
gone.
He drew a deep breath and held out
his hand. "To-morrow, then:'' said
he.
She nodded, sighed. and something
like sob seemed to rise in her throat.
''Oh, co." she cried, "go, CO." And
she let her hand touch his before she
pointed toward the door.
Il will he here at three" he muir
INJURED. And tearing his gaze away
from her dropping face and figure, he
dashed across the threshold and out
into the hall. AS the door closed be-
hind him, her sobs broke their bounds,
and he distinctly heard her moan. But
he dared not 80 back.
"This last mystery is worse than the
first" so he commented as he reached
the street. "Is the Portuguese a
demon, Or" He did not complete
his sentence, for just then he caught
sight of the figure Of a man going on
before him toward the avenue. and
convinced that it was that OF the
hated Montelli, he quickened his pace
in the hope of overtaking him and COM
inc to some sort of an explanation.
But as soon as his step rung faster.
that of the man in front did the same,
and though he hurried to the full ex-
tent which decency allowed he did
not reach the man nor even catch the
car which the other managed TO board
as it rushed down the somewhat steep
incline which marks the avenue at this
point.
When he came to think Of it, how
ever, he was not sorry that lie had
missed an encounter with man, of
whose resources and intentions he
hllOW 81 lllliS. IL thC oAS>1OA tAAN
was all he believed her, she would pre-
serve herself in safety till the morrow,
while if she were not, the sooner he
forgot the bewitching face and touch
ing manner, the better. Till to-mor-
row, then, he would be patient, mean
while trusting that all good angels
would guard the rest Of her whom in
his inmost heart he felt to be the one
woman chosen by Providence to be the
light and glory of his life.
His studio, when he returned to 1t,
struck him for the first time in his
remembrance, as cold and barren.
Though the signs of ideal life were
about him, and from every quarter OF
the great room shone images Of beauty
and the creations of art, he experienced
a sensation of desolation and loneli-
ness. that should have warned him
of the depth of the experience which
he had undergone since he had passed
out of this place four hours before.
The picture Of the fair beauty was
the sole object which seemed to possess
any interest for him, and struck again
by the oddity Of tile coincidence which
had brought him face to face with the
woman who had unconsciously fur
nished him with the basis for this
painting. he lit all the gas jets in the
room, and sat down TO study this work
of his in the light Of his late encoun-
ter.
1t was like her and yet it was not like
her. The features, the grace, the color
ing were all there, but the humanity
which made her countenance so en-.
gaging, was lacking from this dream
like face.
II have a fairy here," he muttered,
"but she is women. Would it have
been better if had left her such in the
painting? No; or 1 should have had
no Dream to match my beautiful
Reality" And lie tore from his port
folio the sketch which he had made Of
the signorina. and, with heart throb-
bins too fast for comfort. placed it
beside the painting he had just been
contemplating, and sat down again to
study them and compare.
o the exquisite contrast between
them, And o the touching grace OF his
new idol! Could any one see such a
face and not love it? Ham
ilton Degraw could not. Without
struggle, without fear, without any
doubt OF the wisdom Of such an abaE-
donmcnt, he let his whole heart 90 in
this hour Of silent reverie, and it was
not to the rich and gracious unknown
that it fed, but to the poor, the desc
late and to the nienaccd singer, with
her woeful past and perished ambition.
At three o'clock the next day he
stood again before her house. He had
he had even vaguely expected the
Portuguese. but his quiet had been un-
disturbed and his studio unvisited. 1t
was, therefore. with faint apprchen-
sions Of possible evil that he rang the
bell and waited for the answer, whicil
was longer in coming to-day than it
was yesterday.
At last, after two or three smart
rings, the door swung back. and he
saw the same inane-!ooking girl before
HIM. backed by the same unfurnshed
and lonesome hall; but there was 10
loneliness there for him. She was
within. and that would have made
prison walls attractive.
The Signorina Naldi?" he inquired.
tsShall find her in her rooms? Shall
ro IN oS dill y,ctnr,3oyG',