The Montgomery advertiser., 1905-03-25
,LAScA.

ny JEAN ELGINBROD. I(Copyright, 1905, by Daily Story Pub l fishing Co.) | As told by a letter from Robert Downer, artist, to a friend. | Tho Royal. New York City. | - IS, 190--. My Dear Fitzherbert:
 | I have neglected to write you since IT returned to town for two reasons First. because I could not decide wheth- CT or not to tell you about Sargents death as 1t really was, and second, be- lcause I have been i'll ever since. and do not want to infiict my horrors, whether real, or imaginary. upon any one else.
 am trying to paint a little again, but it is always the same face, over and dyer, so I do not get ahead very fast. The face of a girl, dark yet del- icate, with hair of intense black. and heavy, languorous Spanish eyes. Often as paint 1t, 1t is never the same. l work myself into a fever over it. im- lheart-sick. drop 1t.
 am going to tell you the whole bus mess. Of course you know when we start ed. and think Sargent wrote you once or twice during the first part of the trip. He was in the best of spirits. We were having a grand, good holi- day together. We stopped sometimes, when the mood seized us, day or two. or a week In a place, and set up my easel and got busy while Ted went off on lazy walks and explorations by him. self. We had not had such good time since we were boys.
 It was February when we left New York. It was May when we reached Santa Rosalia in Mexico. doubt if you will find 1t on any map.
 It is out of the beaten track of travel, but enough tourists pass through 1t yearly to make bead work, fantastic pottery and basket weaving popular employments. Silver mining is.. how ever, the chief industry, and 1t has all the ear marks of a Mexican mining town. <
 Sargent voted 1t dull old place and wanted to move on, but I had seen a vision--Lasca-andw would not go. It was very early on the second morning of our stay that first saw her. I~had started on a sketching trip by myself just after sunrise. She was going to early mass in the quaint old stone church of the Holy Rosary. She was young, seventeen perhaps, and | little and slender. forgot what had started for. and followed her into the church. Her rapt face fascinated me as she went through her devotions Her skin was dark. but very clear, her small face as clean cut as cameo. The swell of her throat, the scarlet line of her lips-ah, can see them yet. But 1 it was her eyes, somber, breeding, tc which I returned again and again. most awful fear lay deep in their tragic depths. If I ever saw living fear ir any ones eyes I saw 1t in hers. What lhad she seen? What could she know Fto bring such an expression to heI face?
 If a man could paint it, thought that look in her eyes. The more thought of her the more I longed tc try it.
 The next morning I took Sargent tc early mass with me. He could speak the lingo better than I. He did not say anything when he saw her though waited for 1t.
 | She said her prayers slowly, rever Eently. bending. crossing herself before | the dingy little statue of Our Lady As she arose from her knees her eye, fell upon us. The efear in her fac,
 seemed intensified for a moment, ther
 with bowed head she hurried out o | the church.
 l sargent plOWcu dItcT hcT dHt I followed him.
 "Oh, I say, get her to pose for you Bob. I-she's divine"
 His impetuosity carried me forward In a moment I was beside her, and stated my request with as much court. esy and Spanish as I could manage.
 She answered me in fairly good Eng. fish, quite simply like a child.
 My father, Senor, he must be asked For myself I do not care. mo-" | Her father. it seemed. kept a small store further down the street, so we walked down to 1t.
 a basement. Her father was a sharr old fellow, half Indian. think. with a skin like leather. They lived next door and she took Sargent over to the | house to see her rose garden, appar, entIy her pride. while I made a bar. gain with the old hippopotamus. | It was finally arranged that she and her Indian servant Cher mother was dead) were to come to my studio fol two hours every morning until the pic. ture was completed. There seemed tc be no scruples or superstitions about il at all. and evidently money was a de. sirabIe thing. Mutually satisfied, wt blessed each other and went off to find Sargent.
 They were standing in the white sanded path. great trellises of roses red and white. on either side She was telling his fortune by the palm of his hand. The Indian women sat on a stool near by, weaving a basket. The gir started as she saw me. That strange dread which had gone for the moment shadowed her face again. She shranh away from Sargent and looked around her quickly as if fearing what she might see.
 Then she came to me timidly and of. fered to show me her roses. | But I was only anxi 0us to get away l was wishing we had never seen her A heavy foreboding came upon me as looked at Sargent. He could not keer his eyes from her.
 All that I had feared came true. Fol a day or two he kept away Then he haunted the studio those two hours ir the morning and the old stone house