Los Angeles herald. [microfilm reel] (Los Angeles [Calif.]) 1900-1911, 1909-02-28

OF that summer three years ago, when he
lost his heart to the lovely model, and with
it his peace of mind.
Guy Melekin sank deiectedly on to a
couch drawn close to the open window, and
dreamed sad dreams of regret
81 must go back to my work. have
awakened from my mad, merry dream, as
StentOn calls it. Nothing now remains of
the past but my picture-nO one can take
that Honoria from me- he murmured.
With set determination in his face, Mele-
kin closed the window, shut the gay world
from sight, and started his preparations for
leaving Paris early the next day.
Chris Stenton decided to stay in the hotel
until he heard from Melekin. Toward
noon letter came from his friend telling
OF his hasty departure StentOn shrugged
his shoulders.
''The erratic moods and movements of
feverish dreamer he calculated to him
self with sarcastic laugh; cit took me
three minutes to do Melekin the good turn
Of sending Honoria to the right about
he has spent three years knocking round
trying to forget her-and he is not the least
bit cureo of his foolish fancy yet-incred-
ible" Chris StentOn glanced with genuine
pity at the letter, then tore it up.
THE first of June and lovely Devon once
more! Guy Melekin stood on the We
randa of the little cottage and looked out
OF: the glorious sun-bathed world.
Something akin to peace and happiness
had come to him since he had arrived from
Paris. He was sole occupant of the studio
now, and worked the day long.
HOnoria S picture stood on an easel in the
center of the room-Melekin, palette and
Oh h.
light burning steadily in his eyes. The por-
life. He recalled with vivid distinctness the
girls dainty gestures and smiles-that
faithful memory which so exasperated STEM
ton.
Honoria-my Lowell" Guy Melekin
whispered passionately. He approached the
picture, and, bringing it down to his level,
pressed his lips to the painted ones, which
seemed to be smiling and glowing with life.
"What a fool [ am, with my hopeless
love!' he muttered, sinking YEARLY into
a chair before the easel
He leaned on the table beside him, and
buried his face in his hands.
The impudent ditty of one of God s own
songsters broke shrilly on the ear. The
fluffy bird perched on the windowsill twisted
his tiny head from side to side, as if ask
the lonely inmate of the studio. After vain
efforts, he futtered his wings angrily, and
made off, skimming the velvety lawn, and
joining his companions in the cool wood be
yond.
cam 1 late? So very sorry!" said
sweet voice, breaking like the chime of sill
yer bells across Guy Melekin s sad day
dreams.
He started up, thinking that his senses
played him false; cry of joy flew from his
heart to his lips.
Honoria stood before him, in her white
dress and flower trimmed hat. 81 am not a
dreamland spirit-Only Honoria, she said,
holding out slim white hand to Melekin
Honoria!" he murmured, taking her
hand and touching it with his lips. "For-
give me!'
"You we're not to blame. [ know the
truth-Guy. Oh, forgot! May I call you
by your Christian name?'
Two dark gray eyes and two violet blue
looked deep into each other s depths, seek
ing for secrets which they found. Few
were the WHISPERED words needed to explain
away all doubts.