The Washington herald., 1907-05-13
THE WIDOW IN WHITE.
BY LOUISE MERRIFIELD.

There she goes"
Little Compton gave the alarm. and
everybody in the Pasquale studio leaped
/ for the windows as the white automobile
whizZed by. Four easels crashed on the
/ floor The model, a slender. Dryad fig
ure with a spray of spring bOughs
over the bare shoulder and a trail of
! grass-green velvet from bust 10 ankle,
| broke her pose and turned her head.
| Pasquale himself had been the first 10
run, and had a front seat. so to speak. at
/ the middle window with Jules lie Breton
towering over him.
| No one spoke until the moment Of sus-
| pense was passed and the white auto had
swerved around the corner Of the Boule-
ward des Anges. Then a low. intense
breath Of released suspense sounded au-
dibly through the bare room. and the
Pasquale students stared into one an
others eyes. rapturously, gloatingly. just
exactly as they had done every day at
the same hour for six days.
'She is celestial" murmured lie Bre-
ton. huskily. as he lifted his fallen easel
But he did not place crayon to paper
again that afternoon. He sat and smoked
spray Of spring boughs on the models
bare shoulder and the blood bounded
through his veins. joyously. bubbingly.
like the little mountain brooks breaking
through thin April ice.
lie Breton had spring fever. Also in
a minor degree. lie Breton was newly in
love again.
Pasquale crossed the room as soon as
81 f,I 4 ~.
bent affectionately forward over lie Bre-
tons chair and tapped on the plump
bowl Of the Amiens pipe to recall lie
Breton's soul from the asphodel meadow
Of day dreams.
Mon ami. l have discovered a small
thing he said in an undertone. so that
Compton from Delaware would not hear.
Compton from Delaware was a cynic. a
person utterly beyond the gates Of spring
enchantment. He had the artistic tenn
permanent. but II showed itself in his
work. not his hair. nor his loves. nor his
words. And therein Compton from Della
ware was absolutely an original and
unique character among the art students
at Pasquale's Also he was absolutely
despised as a hopeless business proposi-
ton. But the eyes Of the girl with the
=
blond ringlets and velvet blouse and
fingered on the close-cropped head of
Little Compton from Delaware.
It was the way he had with women.
Il have discovered her habitation."
whispered Pasquale. "She is a widow"
"A widow in white" lie Breton's half
closed eyes flashed open. "Ah. but II is
her whim. II is her divinity revealing
II f, ba7. sy-r,,EoI nf rcfa.-a SsI.o
did not love him if she can mourn in
white. But the art elusive, enchanting.
mysterious. TO garb herself from top to
toe in svete white suede. to swathe her
face in creamy chiffon like an houri 10
challenge ones daring TO pique the curl
osity, does It not all prove the woman
behind the veil, the woman celestial, yet
with the dash, the mere touch, so like
the high light, Of the diabolique in her
bereaved nature. Where does she live,
Pasquale?"
Pasquale glanced sideways at Little
Compton. He was extremely busy Civ
ing a touch 70 the clasp of gold on the
models left arm. a touch to make It
gleam
''At the Hotel Lombard" said Pas
quale | have engaged the interest Of
the S4AAdAA hos dA litt SdtdEt- -le lE z
widow, Nine. Germaine, La Belle Ger
maine And she lives at the Lombard
So, my Jules, I give you the cue for the
romance, n'est-ce-pas?''
lie Breton rose and stretched his arms
widely until they touched the gas jet
above his head.
II shall fling violets at her, vast clus-
ters of them. dew wet. Parma violets.
straight into her arms as she passes each
day until she recognizes me-" he said. Il
shall pierce the white chiffon veil with
opera glasses and see If her eyes divine
are melting blue, or gloriously, ravishing-
ly dark, like la Zingara. 1 shall"
You will make the customary bloom
ing idiot of yourself. Jules called Comp
ton from Delaware over his shoulder
with cheerful JUNCTION. How many chill
dren did the last divinity have after you
had followed the trail Of romance Of two
weeks and finally landed her in a bakery
over the Seine?"
lie Breton raised a glass of ice water
to deposit It below the adjacent coat col
lar, but he stayed his hand, and drank
the water automatically. Once, once
long ago. he had not stayed his hand.
and the memory of the resultant episode
fingered yet. Little Compton had risen
swiftly. and deftly. promptly foored
him. And even the model had laughed.
1t was not a pleasant memory. There
fore. lie Breton stayed his hand and
drank OF the ice water
The next day 1e Breton vanished from
the atelier at a quarter of 3 precisely,
but his intentions were public
The windows of Pasquale's were oc-
cupied by an absorbed audience long be-
fore the whirr of the white auto sound
ed on the still hush OF the mid after
noon. BY leaning from the windows one
could catch a glimpse Of a figure stand
Ing on the corner, a patient, noble figure
under the quaint wrought-iron street
lamp, the figure Of the knight erTant. in
velvet blouse. cap rakishly
awry. and in the hands the
most beautiful, enormous, languishing
bouquet of Parma violets that lie Bre-
ton could find A beauty it was. a regal
offering. with silken tasseled cord of
gold. and the stems the tender young /
stems. prisoned in tin foil, violet dyed. 4
Presently there was the sound of the 1
chariot celestial, the cream white auto (
mobile, with the tiny gold monogram on |
)ne side. so vague. so unreadable. so |
iivlnely mysterious to the faces that /
,rowded one above another at Pasquale's /
like cabbages in the market |
stalls.
'She comes. mon Dieu. she comes"
;asped Pasquale. estaueally. Now Jules,