The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1909-09-23

cas- annoyance at the ease with which
she was resigned was only half re-
moved by his conclusion as he touched
his breast:
But | shall have you here always"
Nor would he let her see the pic
fure. wait till it is DONE" he said
And he painted so diligently that she
grew jealous. 1t had all his attention;
she none. What was it like? The inn
keeper. who had seen it, called her
Giuseppe's inspiration. But was she
TO lie only an inspiration? She looked
at his abstracted face, and wave Of
pain and love overspread her own.
Seeking to make some connection be-
tween herself and the painting, she
spoke one day of Pygmalion.
He kissed his Galatea into life, yoE
know" Her conviction that Giuseppe
did know absolutely nothing that was
ever classified and put into a book Of
reference led her to add:
'She was the statue he had made,
and after that she became his wife"
The poetry of this appealed to Giu-
seppe, uor was the parallel lost. He
looked from her to the picture. then
gave a despairiny sigh:
"Ah, but l have not painted a Gala
tea"
Angelica's animosity toward the pic
ture grew with her love. The day it
was completed and showed to her she
could have cried aloud in despair. even
while she prostrated herself before the
genius that had produced it. 1t was
a perfect face-no woman's, but an
angels. 1t was the soul Of goodness
looking down on sinners with unscorn-
ing pity. glorious. alluring up sleeps
and on to heights, then fitting on be-
fore. always unattainable, always ex-
alting. So Beatrice must have been
when her eyes drew Dante out Of pur-
gatory into heaven.
Giuseppe loved it-not her There
was no common ground between them.
The girls hands clinched with the
hopeiessness Of rivalry against the
nonexistent. And, insult to insult, the
thing had stolen her lineaments,
'She is great" Angelica said. dash
ing back the tears. ''She will make
you famous-and me, perhaps" There
was a ring Of sarcasm in the last
words that puzzled Giuseppe.
''She is great l have dwelt with her
| day and night until understood She
has been my salvation She has led
me on and on. am 10 longer a
painter, but an artist and she is you
You have taught me this. thank
you"
Angelica jerked back her hand from
his reverent lips and shrieked her ex
asperation. mo, no, no-she is ugly
! ugly"
She had hoped TO retire with dignity
The dam once broken, her emotions
poured out in spite Of her. .'Shc isn't
me. You have no right to paint that
thing and call it me. When you said
you loved me. | believed it, loved
you in spite Of your faults. But YOU
you are wicked and ungrateful. You
demand Of me perfection-and such
| perfection
! Giuseppe rubbed his hand across his
forehead. stupefied. The picture and
Angelica, it seemed, were two sep
| arate entities. Galatea, made flesh
| was no longer Galatea. Here was a
woman surely, the one he had painted
| But the blessed angels. did they no
exist?
do you love me?" she demanded
| with stamp Of her foot. Me or her
which? Look at her. She is co
quette. You will never reach her
| however you try. ! will make 20,
ilappy-so happy. Giuseppe. But choose
! choose"
! Giuseppe stood open mouthed for !;
| few dazed moments till he had stare(
her into focus. Not his angel now. no
above him. He might touch. possess
A woman this with the features Sc
dear to him. red Tipped. faircr thai
| Floria. The earth called loudly t.
him. Heaven was far off. The cloud'