The citizen. (Honesdale, Pa.) 1908-1914, 1910-04-15
The Masterpiece

lpW, blllltu NOut. luuSl uOl.
Courtney smiled with a slow, steady
assurance Yet, Margery, you love
me?" he insisted gently
Her eyes flashed for a moment into
a radient glow but darkened as she
uttered a sharp, protesting cry. She
turned and paced the room. her hands
knotted tightly in front of her.
Il had not intended to speak of the
past" she began brokenly. ut seemed
disloyal-to him"
Courtney glanced at her with
swift, anxious scrutiny then smiled.
"The past, Margery? What could my
little girl have done with a past?" She
choked back sob and his face be-
came instantly grave. Tell me, Mar
gerry" he entreated. "It can make no
difference, but tell me-"
She resumed her place near the
mantel and bent forward until her
head rested against the marble MY
father was a strange. morbid man."
she began. "He spent many hours be-
fore the paintings of old masters and
dreamed their dreams anew, but art
became such a sacred thing to him
that he would not allow himself to Gre
ate until he had studied it for 20
years. He blended wonderful masses
of color, drew marvellous lines. but
to erase them. At length, when he
permitted his visions to soar, he
worked for many days and nights
with a feverish zest upon a picture
which l have never seen. He dared
not trust himself to Judge it, fearing
that he might see through the rose
glow of his dreams, so he carried the
canvas to a friend, a famous artist in
Italy, entreating him to form his judg-
ment only in moment of leisure. He
trusted this man so entirely that with
an emotional impulsiveness he begged
him to destroy the picture il he found
it worthless. He did not hear from 1t
again. The artist soon left Italy and
we lost all trace of him. He brooded
and mourned as one who grieves for a
dead child. He believed his pic
ture to be worthless and that the
artist, obeying his wish, had destroyed
it. He flung his brushes into the fire
and then-he drank" Her voice fal.
tered and broke. There remained no
semblance of the father whom we had
loved, until at last, crazed and impo-
tent, he-shot a man" She stopped
abruptly with sharp protesting ap.
peal. Gould be your wife?"
He stood before her, with clenched,
straining fingers. his face white and
pitiful; at Length he moved to her side
and spoke with unutterable tender
ness. yes, Margery; yes, little one.
a rare, wonderful wife"
His words shook her as a tempest,
and she clung to him in a sudden
yielding, until with a sharp cry he
faced her, his eyes filled with horror.
"Was your father Richard Harmen?"
he demanded,
yes"
HE hands fell loosely TO his sides
and he seemed unable to face the out
look. He struggled against the temp
taton TO withhold the truth from her,
and when he spoke his voice was
hoarse and hopeless.
81 was the artist in Italy, Margery;
your father brought me his picture
and forgot it. l have not taken 1t
from it's wrapper"
She caught her breath sharply
then shrank from him in bitter re-
coil. Where is it now?" she demand.
ed.
His mind flashed back into the past.
"In my desk" he responded duly. 81
was called suddenly away from Italy
and did not think of it again. / had
no means of knowing that he-he was
your father"
They faced each other in an in
tense, breathless silence. At last her
voice came, cold and hard:
GO, and bring it to mel"
She stood for a long time where
he had left her, her eyes staring to-
ward the door with bright, unnatural
glitter. When Courtney at length re-
entered the room, she took the pack
age from his hand and in silence broke
the string.
warm, marvellous blending of col
or flashed before their eyes, and they
stood gazing upon a picture which
held them for the moment spellbound.
Each knew that they beheld a master.
piece.
Margery's eyes remained fascinated
upon the canvas; then suddenly she
turned to Courtney with swift, futile
rage. "He trusted you with a won
derful thing like that" she flashed out
and you could forget? His very life
hung upon your word. You are-you
| are"
Don't say it, Margery; yes, know
dear, but-don't."
She met the pleading hopelessness
of his eyes and for an instant her
own softened; but the memory of q
drawn, haggard face arose between
them and she shrank back. 81 car
never see you again." she said, in a
hard, strained voice; 81 never wan
to-"
He moved unsteadily to the door
then paused and made movement to
ward her. "Margery!" he pleaded