The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1909-02-04
THE EVENING STORY
The Picture and the lover.
(By Lester Grey.)

(By Lester Grey.)
To begin with, she was not a moth
er. put It had pleased the young ar
fist to give the picture that name be-
cause it was his ideal OF what his
mother would have been If she had
lived.
In real life she was quiet little
person, just over the brow or the
highway of years, journeying softly,
placidly down the smooth path, for
the winter of existence lay hidden be-
yond turns in the road and she had
not glimpsed it yet.
1t was not one of the large can
vases of the exhibition, nor was it
hung in the most desirable lights re-
placed, for Dean Carroll, though
young, had in a measure been recog-
nized, and there were people OF dis
cernment who looked for his work.
The composition had been cleverly
conceived. 1t showed a veranda cor
ner of what was evidently an old ruin
of country house of half a century
ago. The big French window, the
half of an old colonial pillar and a
general air of shabby gentility made a
fitting frame for the sweet-faced wo-
man who sat in the modern wicker
porch chair, a magazine on her lap
and who looked straight out of the
picture.
To one content to revel in the de-
light of it all it showed a happy
mother speaking to some stalwart son
perhaps, just himself, with a hearty
greeting of love.
To the critic, who sought to know
why it pleased him, the greatest
charm seemed to be in the eyes. Car
roll had done wonders there. and they
seemed to carry a message of a moth
er-love that had known no anxieties,
no sleepless nights of wondering
ing, and praying that God might
watch over him.
They were big. brown expressive
eyes, with the slightest suggestion of
wrinkled corners, a hint of age furth-
er carried out here and there in the
hair by touch of times silver strands
through the soft-hued brown.
It attracted some attention from
it was distinctly good. Otherwise it
created no stir. 1t was one Of half
a hundred others equally creditable
to the artists and would probably
placed on sale.
Yet, somehow, Carroll liked to look
at it, probably because it brought back
to him memories of that Virginia
to death and of the gentle spinster
who had nursed him past the crisis
and mothered him through a happy
cOnva leScence.
His own mother had died when he
was very young, and as he lay on his
bed of illness watching her sweet face
as she moved about the room, it gave
him Joy to pretend that he was really
her son, and it grieved him to think
that perhaps years to come might be
both lonely to her and full of trou-
BILE
one afternoon, when he stood half
in a reverie of remembrance before
the picture, he was conscious that an
elderly man near him was evincing
more than usual interest.
He funibled for his glasses, turned
T1n Loo ~ fI0 n hea
came to the number, then the Gag
erness died out of his face and he turn
ed away. But he came back and again
looked upon it with no concealment
of his appreciation.
The stranger noticed Carroll when
he started away the second time and
stopped to ask him:
do you know anything about the
picture?'
"You are Mr.. Carroll, then. I was
going to hunt you up. Is it for sale ?"
the older man inquired.
''Well, you know we artists have to
live. Few of us paint for fame alone, |
so it is like the rest. Only 1 hope 1t |
goes to some one who will appreciate |
it. The circumstances of it's paint |
ing are dear memories
''Are' you-are-you her-son? Tell |
mel" and the questioner put trem- |
bling hand on the artists shoulders.
mo- replied Carroll, "I wish I |
was or rather if my own mother had !
lived 1 think she would have been
like her"
tell me the circumstances you speak |
of-that is, if you will? Thank you,
but not here. Let us go to my house,
1 live near and he led the way out.
''It isn't much of a story except in
its personal appeal to me-" began Car
roll a few moments later. But I
presume it reminds you of some one,
and if the two women are alike
n md 11O r
Last spring was threatened with
fever and was told to get out OF the
city. I found a quiet place owned by
took me in. Unfortunately, did not
escape soon enough and the fever
caught me. There was no one with
her but an old servant, and I asked to
be moved into the nearest town.
"She would not hear of 1t, and
nursed me on a journey to deaths
door and back again to the sunshine,
to the trees and the birds-and life.
plain, her tenderness, her motherli-
ness and the sense of comfort, of love,
even, for stranger that she gave to
me.
''4er entrance would light up my
sick room, her presence was better
than all the medicine in the world;
frankly, she is the dearest, sweetest
woman I have ever known. l was
only two when my mother died. That's
about all. think
'Mr Carroll" his host began, ST
have never met you, but am perhaps
known to you. I am Judge Johnson ,
Lee Carter, and I am from Virginia.
When I was a hot-headed young man
I was in love with a girl who is prob
ably the double of the lady in your !
picture. / loved her devotedly, mad
~, sir, and she loved me. But, was
headstrong. sir, and I quarreled with
her one night and came north.
''All my life the years have been
loveless, except my love for her.