The Washington bee., 1911-03-18
TWIN SPIRITS
By ESTHER VANDEVEER


servant was Instructed to call his at
tention to 1t. he seldom knew that II
was there. Often after be had 6n-
ished his work for the day be would
feel faint for want of food Then be
would arise TO get some and freQu~nt-
ly knocked over the stool on which
his lunch had been placed and broke
the dishes.
She was a poetess. She had had q
lover; but. finding that she didn't feel
those heavenly thrills OF which she
had written Of people In such condk
ton, she had broken of her engage
ment with him. She had seen the art
lists pictures and was sure she loved
the man who painted thelS. She burn
ed to know him and asked every friend
she possessed to introduce her. But
none of them was acquainted with
him.
But her yearning for him would not
down. She resolved to visit him in his
studio. A friend TO whom she had
given her confidence advised her to
brush up Bit" leave of her black
alpaca and put on silk. But the rec
ommendation did not impress her.
Love was a matter Of the soul; it had
nothing TO do with clothes. where
upon her friend admonished her to
wear something pretty all the same.
She went TO his studio, climbed sew
eral flights Of stairs-she was delicate,
and the effort made her heart throb
viOlently-and tapped softly at the
door. There was no response. No
sound came from within. She tried
the doorknOb. turning it gently. then
pushed the door slightly ajar. He was
there. He sat at his easel before q
canvas on which were a divine face
and figure. The latch slipped back,
making a sound. She started, think
ing it would betray her. No; he went
on painting. What a noble brow! His
tumbled haiF-it was Embarrassed
the crown of his august head.
What should she do? Should she
break the spell under which be work
ed by speaking? No; there was a chair
near by. She would go and sit upon
it till he came to himself or from him
self. So she went softly to the chair,
keeping her eyes upon him the while,
and sat down.
Alas, she sat upon a palette-a pal
cite on which were soft paints OF
many bright colOrs!
She sat looking at him, yearning for
him. Presently he looked aside from
his work and straight at her Through
his eyes looked a great spirit But
they did not see her; they were as
those Of a somnambulist. He turned
his gaze back to his easel.
For another half hour he worked.
She would no sooner drag him down
from his idea fight than she pulled
down herself when poem was well
ing up in her own heart.
Presently she arose to 60. She had
seen him. Her soul had careSsed his
1t was enough.
But unfortunately something fell on
the floor.
where have you been?" he asked.
1--WE been waiting for you. must
put in the eyes" Then, without wait
ing. he went on: "a little closer. please.
There. face the light"
At the same time he turned and
looked into her eyes. He thought she
was his model. But she did not know
it. She thought that his lofty intellect
had stalked over the gap of a want OF
acquaintance.
Then he began to paint. putting her
own dark. poetic eyes into the head
on the canvas. turning often to look
into those Of flesh and blood. In her
poetic imagination she fancied that
he was taking. spiritually. her eyes
from her body and placing them in the
head Of an angel.
At last the work was finished. He
arose, stood at a short distance from
it. viewed it critically, made a few
touches. threw down his brush, put his
hand in his pocket, fished out plug Of
black tobacco and bit off a quid.
As her romance. pierced to the heart, |
died within her she gave a little cry. |
He turned and looked at her through !
eyes from which the light OF Genius |
Creatrix had gone out and saw her as /
she was, a lean. homely old maid with
handsome eyes.
"Who in thunder are your" he bIurt-
ed.
Poor woman. Had the romance re-
mained II would have been quite ems
enough. but It had vanished
with the appearance OF the tobacco.
What to say she did not know. There
was but one thing for her to do-leave
the studio. She SUNK toward the door.
he followed her with his eyes.
stop" he said suddenly, making a
few quick strides toward her. Was he
going to break even the fragments OF
the idol she had raised and how? He
seized her skirt-that part Of It which
hung in rear-and, spreading 1t out, ex-
claimed:
Great Scott"
what is it?" she asked, not being
able to see behind her.
you've been sitting on my paletteP'
he said, surveying the wreck Of her
iress ruefully. The dress was a con-
fusion Of vermilIon, prussian blue,
:hrome yellow, violet and other coIors.
Then. telling her to wait. be rushed
or turpentine and other articles and In
b.