Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1912-10-10
Ithere was caught a pale pink rose.

In0f0 ID I8BClnaIlOn ---- muir
INJURED Philip, still standing there en-
raptured after his friend had departed.
An hour later he was standing
there, his gaze still entangled with
the naughty. half insolent, smiling
glance Of the woman in the picture.
The telephone bell ringing sharply
dragged him out OF his trance-like
state. He passed hand across his
dazed eyes.
What has happened to met" he
muttered as he half staggered into
the next room.
Edith was at the other end Of the
wire. Her voice was reproachful
you promised to take me out to
the club this afternoon. Phil could
have gone out with the Lees: they
stopped for me, but told them was
expecting your car every minute"
Dearest, I am sorry-I don't know
what to say!"' cried Philip, penitent.
ly. my only excuse is that Mitch.
ellis picture arrived this afternoon,
and Bicknell and have been un-
packing it l forgot all about golf
and tea and everything"
You are forgiven this time" said
Edith. "Now tell me about the pic
ture-what is it,"
The most wonderful portrait of
woman you ever saw Lady We're,
am calling 1t. Imagine a woman
with yellow eyes!" Philip could not
keep the enthusiasm out Of his voice,
and he was quite needless Of the
fact that green eyes are not an I'M
common feature among engaged
people. and so he gave no thought to
the sudden GOODNESS in Edith's voice
as she hung up the receiver.
That was only the beginning.
The picture of Lady We're exerted
a strange influence over the life Of
Philip Ware, usually the most prac-
tical and natter.of-fact individual in
the world. He became silent and
dreamy and neglected his business to
spend hours in wordless communion
with the lovely woman hanging over
his fireplace
What the witchery was that held
him enthralled before her portrait
hour after hour one could not guess.
but 1t 10 true that not only was his
business neglected, but his social du-
ties were forgotten. He appeared to
have changed entirely toward Edith
Forbes.
Compared to the fascination Of
Lady We're, Edith appeared very plain
to his perverted gaze.
Edith felt the GOODNESS and SUI
fered bitterly when she realized that
broke the engagement. He seemed
relieved.
Perhaps John Bicknell guessed the
o. II
had not failed to fascinate him also.
What Is the matter with Philip"
Edith asked him one day, for Bick-
nell was her cousin and knew all
about the broken engagement.
Bicknell looked at her gravely.
"You won't believe me, Edith, when
I tell you that he Is under spell
enchanted by the painted portrait Of
a woman and believe the whole
thing a diabolical scheme of revenge
ON the part Of the painter
Thereupon he told her about Phil
lps acquaintance with Rankin Mitch
ELI of how the older man had told
the rashly critical younger that one
day he would show him what he
could do in portrait painting and OF
Philips surprise at receiving the he
quest Of the picture of Lady We're.
There is some sorcery painted
into that portrait that steals away
his good common sense everything
that we know and love in Philip!"s
declared Bicknell to the quiet girl
beside him. But what can be done?"2
Destroy the picture" returned
Edith promptly.
"He would never forgive me-
Then he may forgive me, for I
shall do It, Don't you understand.
John. that after 1t has disappeared
forever he will be himself once more?
He will not care about Lady Vere!"
How can help you, Edith?"
"Give me an opportunity to get
into Phil's rooms when he is not
there will run the chance of his
anger"
A few days later Philip Ware
walked into his rooms one night and
found Edith Forbes standing before
the embers Of smoldering fire. It
had been fire that sent out black
smudge of smoke and left smell Of
burning varnish.
Instinctively Philip glanced up at
the portrait of Lady We're 1t was
gone.
He passed his hand over his eyes.
He smiled at Edith in the old way
and held out his hand half doubt.
fully.
II thought we had quarreled.
am glad that it was an ugly dream"
he stamneTed.
Edith reached up and kissed him
tenderly.
1T was bad dream" she muir
INJURED, and later when he was quite
himself again she told him OF how
she had burned the portrait Of the
Lady We're and how the cruel yellow
eyes had stared insolently at her
until the flames blotted them out
forever.
Nov We can all be happy!" she
cried.
/ PULASKI.