The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1908-07-14

the place was in possession for the
present of a few enthusiasts who
were apparently unaware that they
were making an eccentric use of their
tickets in looking at the pictures.
But even these did their inspection
with the temporary air of people
studying a railway advertisement.
and kept a furtive watch for acquaint-
ances whom it might be desirable to
recognize or be recognized by.
Campion, from the entrance where
lie stood could make out the frame of
his portrait, which hung, as Percival
had told him, in the best position at
the opposite end of the room; how it
adapted itself to its surroundings he
could not tell, as the glass which pro-
tected the canvas caught the light in
a way that left the painting invisible.
But it was attracting an attention
that at such a place and time was
fiattering to degree; a small group
was always in front of it, and none
passed it by with indifference.
He was stepping back until he had
reached the proper point of view, and
then all at once his soaring conf
dence dropped headlong like shot
bird, as he saw the face of the por-
trait for the first time since it had
left his studio.
Was he mad or dreaming, or what
was this horrible thing that had hap
pened to it? The bewitching face on
which he had bestowed such loving
labor he now saw distorted as by the
mirror of some malicious demon, yet
without losing dreadful resem-
blance to the original. Gradually he
realized how subtle and insidious
those alterations were, how the
creamy warm hue of the cheeks with
the faint carmine tinge had faded into
a uniform dull white, and the deli
cately accented eyebrows which, COM
bined with the slightly Oriental set
ting of the eyes, had given such pi-
quancy to SYPHILIS expression, were in
clined at an ultra-Chinese angle,
while the wide, innocent-guileful
eyes were narrowed now and gilt
tered with a shallow shrewdness.
Worst of all, tho smile with its
sweet pretense of mutinous mockery
had spread into a terrible shipper,
self-occupied, artificial and fatuous.
No longer did the idol on his can
vas serve tc mark acontrast-it chal-
lenged comparison, and alas! not
unsuccessfully, for in appearance it
was distinctly the more pleasing of
the two. Its former ugliness had
been skillfully toned down, it's fiat
features rendered less uncouth, its
complexion transparency pure, and
its expression one of calm dignity
and profound but unostentatious ben
evidence.
They made grotesque pair, and
the resemblance of this strange look
ing girl to the quaint carved thing at
her elbow seemed to have been
worked out in spirit of brutal cyni-
cism, which found repulsive pleas
ure in insisting upon so ludicrous
and degrading an analogy.
Who could have worked this devil
ish transformation? Not he. He
would resist the very thought-yet
who else?
He advanced to meet Mrs. Stani-
land and Sybil with leaden Lespon-
dency.
Mrs. Standard failed to notice him
for some time-engaged as she was
in leisurely survey of people who
looked so like celebrities that they
were probably nothing of the kind,
but at the first sight of his agitated
face she laughed, not by any means
unpleased.
why, bless mel" she said.
What are you looking like that for?
I'd no idea l was so alarming Come!
if / was little bit ruft1ed when we
last met, you ought to know better
than to take all I said literally.
There, we'll bear one another no
malice, and now you can go and talk
to Sybil. Well, Lionel, and how are
your"
Sybil as standing near, looking
radiantly lovely in the pretty spring
costume which set off her slender,
supple figure to such advantage.
Nov, you know where you must
take me first" she said, joyously, and
then the sparkle in her eyes made a
last expiring leap.
II can guess" he said, thickly.
How was he to prepare her?
He stood before her downcast and
troubled. Something seemed to have
removed them UNNECESSARILY apart,
and Sybil felt that her lover had
never appeared to such disadvantage
There was a scarcely perceptible
change in her manner as she said
IF my portrait isn't here, after all
why not tell me, Ronald?"
at is hung" he said, his lips
catching against one another as he
spoke; Only" And he paused
hopelessly.
Babcock intervenod her with ar
air of graceful consideration. The
truth is" he explained, "I've beer
telling Campion that he really ought
not to allow you to see the portrait
in its present state. Believe me, my
dear child, it is better not"
II should prefer to have reason
please" said Sybil.
What is this all about-not sec
the Portrait" exclaimed Mrs. Stani
land, land pray, why arc we to be the
only excepticns?"
There have been alterations,
said Campion.
$50 you told me yesterday" sale
Sybil. "But you said they would b.
a surprise for me.