Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1906-06-16
CHAPTER III.

I've been thinking of you all the morn
ing" he said Come in! Yes; you'll
find that chair comfortable enough; you'll
be out of the draught there. Aren't you
we'll this morning? You're dreadfully
pale. Allow met" He assisted her to
take off her jacket, and hung it careless
ly across an unoccupied easel. Cassandra
sank into the chair YEARLY. Horace was
here last night" he added.
Ali" Cassandra drew her breath
quickly. He told you?"
Poor Horacel" Robert laughed. HE
couldn't keep the secret; he came straight
to me, positively bursting with it. By
the way. suppose it is the proper thing
to congratulate YOU"
Il suppose it is" she returned languid-
ly; but spare me this morning"
Robert looked at her in astonishment.
why, Cassandra!" he cried, anyone
would think you regretted the engage
ment."
She sat with downcast eyes, but made
no reply.
Horace wants me to paint you," he
went on; "and all the morning I've been
wondering how I'm going to do you JUS
tice. However, I'm determined to do my
best. More no man can do And my best
is not so bad, I've been told"
MIR. Barralet -Robert-you-vo i
may call you Robert, mayn't II" He
nodded. You are really most unjust to
yourself. Your academy picture is great,
and | prophesy a brilliant future for
you"
Il am far from realizing your prophecy,
as yet"
THAT is because your style is too
severely classical, you know. have al
ways urged you to be popular. The ar
lists first aim should be to make money.
Then, if he has ideas, he can develop
them in comfort. That is a practical
view of the question"
And therefore totally opposed to the
artistic one. No, Cassandra; / shall never
prostitute my art to the mere making of
money. Your true artist must of neces-
sity be poor. He cannot work and con-
form to the conventions of society as
well, which of course he would have to do
if he were unlucky enough to possess
riches. Besides l make enough to keep
me alive. What more can a man want -
Cassandra sighed.
Some day you will think of my
words" she said; "and you will be sorry
then that you did not take my advice
What is that little thing you are doing {?
That head, mean ?"-pointing to small
canvas in the center of the room.
Robert flushed
"Th- that :" he stammered. "Oh-er-
merely study-an imaginative face,
don't you know"
Cassandra knew that he was lying, for
the face in the picture was that of the
| ri br cd h., -
what is she TO your" she demanded,
with sudden directness.
Robert was completely taken aback by
the question, but his confusion was only
momentary.
Il hardly recognize your right to ask
that question" he said coldly
Cassandra sprang to her feet, her eyes
flashing.
"Robert!'
He regarded her with undisguised
amazement. Her whole frame was quiz
ering with emotion.
Good heavens, Cassandra What is
the matter? Are you madY What folly
is this?"
Mad? Yes; that's it! Mad!" She
sank into the chair again. What is that
woman to you, Robert? Tell mel"
The artist shrugged his shoulders The
thing was inexplicable to him; the wom-
an was a sphinx. He was dazzled by her
superb loneliness, and awed by her mood
He had never before seen her reused to
such a pitch of excitement. His eyes
wandered away to the easel, to the por-
trait of that other woman, and he men
tally contrasted the two. Her glance
followed his, but by this time she had re-
gained complete mastery over her feel
ings.
who is she?" she asked in a low
voice
"Winifred Bradford said the artist
quietly.
81 think she is rather pretty" she ad-
mitted Il can quite understand your ad-
miration for her. Winifred Bradford!
Rather a pretty name, too. Tell me all
about heT!"
There is nothing to tell" said Robert
but she knew again that he was lying.
An awkward silence ensued Robert
took up palette and began mixing some
colors. Cassandra watched him furtively
through half-closed eyes.
you love her" she said at length
And she loves you. Is it not so?"
Robert fidgeted uneasily.
| don see why L should deny it." he
said. Eyes, Winifred and / are engaged
But, Cassandra, you must not breathe n
word of this to anyone. 1t is to be
secret for the present, I can't for the
life of me think how you guessed it,"
Cassandra's laugh which followed this
naive confession had an unnatural ring
about it,
"You can trust me, Robert" she said
Il viii not breathe a word of your secret
to a living soul. But tell me all about it.
| am sure it is romantic story"
Il am not so certain Of that" returned
the artist, but nevertheless he opened his
| heart to her.
TO BIZ CONTINUED.
AT the present time it is estimated
] that there are considerablH mnre than