The Richmond Virginian. (Richmond, Va.) 1910-1920, 1911-02-23
BY JULIA II. WELLS.


AInpyright 1911, by AssoClateu
Literary Press.
Il could live in an attic on crust:
and dreams
The man turned sharply. 1t was q
beautiful voice, low and distinct, and
the face he saw was worthy OF the
Voice. The face of dreamer, bat
with Intellect and the beauty Of ex-
preston that comes to one who has
seen much of life and has discarded
all that Is unlovely. He lost no time
In being presented to her. and being
ardent o. nature he monopolized her
for the rest of the evening, and when
the party broke up he took her home.
IT had been "A gathering of artists
and writers and laymen of parts. A
minor actress had written a play and
had read IL to friends and to friends
friends before submitting it to the
final authorities Tor fame, or OBJ
lvion, as fate decided.
What do you do?'' Waring had
asked as one would say, How do
you do?" in other circles. Some
thing artistic. of course"
Judgment IS suspended on that
score. / write little tales that are ac-
cepted sometimes and more often re-
tufncd-~Lhanks to the stamped en-
veiope that fares forth with The story.
And you 2" she asked in turn.
y make pictures; ] should love to
my studio and let me show you my
work?%
1T would be a rare pleasure.
know just the kind you must make,
full Of Imagination and poetry she
answered.
Don't you like that kind ?" he in
CURED. eagerly.
1t is the only kind really cara
about Before / begin a story fasten
my eyes on a picture, something to
Ieok deep into and forget the world,
and from that my mind wanders up
and away until / become sufficiently
detached to evolve a romance OF my
own" she replied.
When will you come. tomorrow
afternoon. perhaps?" he urged.
Yes. tomorrow" she agreed.
Come early, ii you Will. the light
is better, and then 1 will give you
tea and you can tell me what you
think IF the pictures
Waring left her at her door and
walked home on air. Forgetting the
many times that his fancy had been
seized In the same volcanic way, he
assured himself that never in his life
had lac known any one whom he ad-
'inired SO unreserVedly. She was beau
tiful In romantic way. fine and re-
fined, and without a touch of the
Bohemianism that married the other
women ne knew who lived the un-
sheltered life.
In the morning he made q picture.
Ia the foreground were tall. slim
trees and a pool in which the sky
aud the trees were reflected, and the
background was illimitable space.
When she came. and her coming
was an event, he took her from pic
fure to picture. while he listened to
her praise. glorying IN the fact that
she could see what he saw. love what
he loved. Last of all he showed her
his mornings work.
She said nothing for many mo-
ments and while she looked at the
picture he looked at her. Turning
suddenly, she saw his face, face
TRANSPORTED by the beauty OF the
thoughts wb.rling In his brain.
1nvoiuntarily she put out her hand.
He took 1t in his own, holding IL
closely.
That is the most beautiful Of all,
she said, softly.
You inspii ed it. / made 1t for you.
II is yours to do with as you like"
Waring to her.
--1fts put IL rs lIuposSlpls. i CoulQn
take 1t. Yesterday we were strangers
to each other" She was looking at
him very seriously. though the color
had deepened in her cheeks.
Then he painted her. and the pic
ture was a success beyond any former
achievement. A period OF exhaustion
followed the creative effort and for
days he did not try to see her. He
had looked al ner with the eyes of
love. every glance had been a caress,
but the word was unspoken.
Marguerite attempted resolutely to
put him out OF her thoughts. He
was an artist, she told herself. given
TO sudden IN pulse. II was her face
that he mad cared for. and now that
he had transferred II to canvas his
enthusiasm had waned.