Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-12-28

ment protected by area ratings, an en-
| trance floor reached by pr1m little flight
of steps and an upper floor. Three little
| houses close one end Of the street, a
! sleepy little modern church masks the
other. Each house has a tiny back gar
| den, which, on the south side, owing to
| the gradual slope Of the ground river
wards is on a level with the basement
floor and thus on a lower level than the
street. Some Of the houses on this south
side are constructed with a studio on the
| garden level running the whole height or
| the house. A sloping skylight in the roof
| admits the precious north light and a
| French window leads on to the garden. A
gallery runs round the studio, on level
and in communication with the entrance
! floor and from this TO the ground is a
spiral staircase, !.
From such gallery did Tommy Bur-
| grave, one November afternoon, look
down into the tstudiO of Clementina Wing.
| She was not alone, as he had expected:
| for in front of an easel carrying nearly
| finished portrait stood the original. a
| pretty, dainty girl. accompanied by a
well dressed. well fed, bullet-headed, bull
| necked, commonplace young man. Glenn
entina, on hearing footsteps. looked UP.
I'm sorry he began. 'They didn't
| tell me- ::
Don't run away. Were quite through
Mr.. Burgrave. a neighbor Of mine." she
explained. "Tries to paint. too-M1ss Eta
Concannon-Capt. Hilyard.
| She performed perfunctory introduce
| tons. The group fingered round the por-
| trait for a few moments, and then the
| girl and the young man went away.
Clementina scrutinized the picture. sighed,
| pushed the easel to a corner of the studio
and drew up another one into the light.
| Tommy sat on the model throne and lit
| a cigarette.
| who's the mann
"This?" asked Clementina, pointing to
| the new portrait, that of stout and
comfortable-looking gentleman.
mo. The man with Miss Eta Some
thing. / like the name Eta
Hes engaged to her. l told you his
name. Capt. Hilyard. He called for her.
| don't like him. replied Clementina,
| whose language was abrupt.
He looks rather a brute-and she's as
| pretty as paint. 1t must be awful hard
lines on a girl when she gets hold of a
| bad lot. .
You're right She said. gathering up
| palette and brushes. Then she turned on
| him. What are You wasting precious
daylight for: Why aren't you at work.
81 feel rather limp this afternoon and
want stimulating. So thought I'd come
| in. Can 1 stay?'
"Oh. Lord, yes, you can stay" said
Clementina, dabbing a vicious bit of paint
| on the canvas and stepping back to OBJ
men who need stimulating make me tired
as tired" she added. with another
stroke, las this horrible fat mans
| trousers"
Il don't see why you need have painted
his trousers. Why not have made him
| half length?'
Because he's the kind of cheesemonger
that wants value for his money. If I cut
| him off at the waist he would think he
| was cheated. He pays to have his hid
| eous trousers painted and so I paint
| them.
But you're an artist, Clementina.'
erAt ltc-aa che
replied, grmly. still dabbing at the creases
of the abominable and uncomfortable gar
| ments. "A woman of my age and ap-
pearance hasn't any illusions left. If she
money, so that one Of these days l may
| be able to retire from trade and be
lady. Bah! Art! Look at that!'
Hi! Stop laughed Tommy. as soon
was revealed. Don't make the Internal
things more hideous than they are al
| ready
That's where 1 get character she
say: How rugged! How strong! How
expressive!' Look at the fat. self-satisfied
| old pig!-and they pay me In guineas
| where the rest of you high-artistic peo-
pie get shillings If had the courage Of
| my convictions and painted him with a
snout, they'd pay me in laos Of rupees.
Art! Don't talk of 1t. I'm sick Of it,
"Ail right said Tommy. calmly putting
away at his cigarette. Il won't. Art is
long and the talk about it is longer.
thank God. SO it will keep.''
| He was fresh-faced, fair-haired boy
| of two-and-twenty. and the chartered
| libertine of Clementina's exclusive studio
His uncle Ephraim Quxtus, had married
distant relation Of Clementina, so. In a
vague way, she was a family connection.
To this fact he owed acquaintance with
her-indeed, he had known her dimly from
! boyhood: but his intimacy he owed to q
certain charm and candor Of youth. which
had found him favor In her not very
| tolerant eyes.
He sat on the model throne. clasping
his knee. and, wonderingly. ,admiringly.
watched her paint. For all her cynical
depreciation of her art, she was a por-
trait painter Of high rank. possessing the
portrait painters magical g1ft Of getting
at essentials, Of splashing the very soul,
the canvas She had a rough. brilliant
method, direct and uncompromising as
her speech. To see her at work was at
once Tommy Burgrave's delight and his
despair. Had she been young and pretty
woman, his masculine vanity might have
smarted. But Clementina. with her ugli-
ness, gruffness and untidiness scarcely
ranked as woman in his disingenuous
mind. You couldn't possibly fall in love
with her: no one could ever have fallen
in love with her. And she. of course, had
never had the remotest idea OF falling in
love with anybody. To his boyish fancy
ception. Besides, she might be any age.
He decided that she must be about fifty.
! But when YOU made allowances for her
gruffness and eccentricities, you found
that she was a good sort-and, there was
no doubt about it, she could paint.
OF course. Clementina might have made
herself look much younger and more pre-
possessing. and thereby have pleased the
fancy of Tommy Burgrave. AS a matter
| of fact. she was only thirty-fvc. Many
a woman with more years and even less
foundation Of beauty than Clementina
flaunts about the world breaking mems
hearts. obfusticating their common sense
and exerting all the bewiIdering influences
of a seductive sex. She only has to do
her hair. attend to her skin and attire
herself in more or less becoming raiment
Very little care suff1ces. Men are ludi-
crously easy to please in the way Of fe-
| male attractiveness-but they draw the
line somewhere. 1t must be confessed
that they drew it at Clementina Wing.
Her coarse black hair struggled perpetual.
! y in uncared-for strands between fortui.
tous hairpins. Her complexion was dark
and oily: her nose had never been pow.
dered since its early infancy; and her
face even when he~walked abroad was
often disfigured, as it was now, by g
smudge Of paint She had heedlessly sui
/ fered the invasion Of lines and wrinkles
!. A deep vertical furrow had settled hart
between her black. overhanging brows
She had intensified and perpetuated thu