The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1904-02-26
az must paint your portrait" David

must pam, yOuT pOiCidil, DofA~
said, suddenly.
But Silvia shook her head.
"Gorky will not consent. He has
never let me have photograph taken.
Miss Hendricks begged me to give her
one last year, but Gorky said no, and
l had to send her a locket instead.
Why do you want a portrait of me?"
David did not explain, but laughed
amusedly at the idea that Gorky could
prevent his having Silvia's face, with
all its infinite charm on canvas if he
wanted it.
Don't let us spoil our last pleasant
day by thinking of the tiresome' flu
ture," Silvia said, flashing bright
smile at David.
Come and see if my cloUd is not
transparent. When you are gone, l
will spend the days painting, and all
winter | will work hard and Try to i'm
prove for when you come back next
June. You will be sure to come hack?'
Silvia turned and looked at David with
troubled look, which softened and
melted in tender and regretful smile.
Il will miss you, oh, so terribly.
What a delightful summer we have
had. And how fast it has flown. On
swallow wings"
David leaned forward, and taking
away the brush, EMBODIED her hand in
both of his.
Eyes, the golden hours have fitted
away, and you and l will soon be part
ed-unless-a dream l have dreamed
comes true"
"A dream? What was it?" Silvia
said, paling, slight mist softening
the glory of her eyes.
Il dreamed that you and 1 would
never part, not even in Paradise. That
you would consent to share an artist
home, and that ours was SO beautiful
as your fair and exquisite self.
dreamed-sweetheart drew her
Silvia turned from him.
Gorky came up the little path and
paused in the doorway.
I'm little late, was detained in
must hurry. Silvia. Have you packed
your paints? Give me the easel The
evenings are chilly. Come, Silvia. The
horses are growing impatient. Good
evening. You have made her a clever
artist. Come Sylvia"
Il will see you Tomorrow" David
said, holding her hand lingeringly.
Silvia turned toward him as she fol-
lowed GOrky. with a passionate ges-
ture of love aud sorrow
The sound of the horses quick trot
on the hard road soon died away.
The next day the village was all
agog with the news, which reached
David later in the day, when messen-
ger same.
1t was of thanks from Gorky for the
admirable lessons he had kindly given,
and large check was inclosed.
In the village people said Gorky and
Silvia had left early i'll the morning
to catch the northbound train for New
York. They were going abroad
An officiallooking document had
come, addressed to Count Vladimir
Gorky, and Silvia was a great person.
age. She was a countess. She was
betrothed to very important member
of the nobility.
Why had they kept heI in hiding
all these years? For political reasons.
She was believed to be dead. But now
she was to be taken to court
Her marriage would be a great pub
lie event.
David Henderson, the artist, sat in
his studio on the mountain side, now
bare and empty, but inhabited by 4
thousand memories of lovely, smiling
girl.
The light faded slowly from the lake
and the green slopes of the mountains,
from the little valley and winding
road, which led to the house on the
road to Boone, until starlit darkness
enveloped the whole majestic scene.
and the solitary watcher on the noun
tain side.
The artists dream was shattered.
Perhaps his most poignant grief was
Silvia's last look.
How near he had been to Paradise
N. o. Times-Democrat.