Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1913-05-01

you SO mucn, MT. oeuSWick-
She held out her hand. 1t was a
hand for the sculptor to model, as
beautiful and full of character as
her face. Comment by g. X: BoshD
Afterward l remembered that never
again in our friendship Gid 1 see 1t
ungloved. Comment by c. k;
''Bosh" retracted Some observation
in thatD.
eau revoir, them" l said; but you
have the advantage of me, you see.
1 don't know what to call you at
ALL
She hesitated: then, with little
soft culver of her eyelids, which ]
afterward learned to identify as an
evidence of amusement, spid, "Daw is
a nice name don't you Think tCom-
ment by c. K: False name, of course;
but highly probable first name Is
Marjorie.) "By the way. what time
is it?"
"Quarter to five, Miss Daw.'
she smiled at the name. King
Cole will have to do his best, II l
am to be back for dinner. Good
by." document by c. K. Good! The
place where she is staying is a good
way off, assuming a seven-thirty din
ner hour; say twelve to fifteen miles9
That was the first of many visits
of days that grew in radiance for me
1t isn't necessary for me to tell you
Kent. how in our talks | came ts
divine in her a spirit as wistful ana
pure as her face. You do not want
love story from me; yet that Is
what it was for me almost from the
inst. Not openly, though. There was
that about her which held me at
arms length: the mystery of her,
her auickly-given trust in me. a GER
tain strained look that came into her
face, like the startled attention OF a
wild thing poised for flight whenever
touched upon the personal note.
Not that I ever questioned her. That
was the understanding between us:
that L sohuld leave to her her incog-
nita without effort to penetrate it.
While | talked 1 sketched her and
studied her. Young as she seemed,
she had been much about the world,
knew her Europe, had met and
talked with men of many pursuits,
and had taken from all sources trib-
ute for her mind and color for her
imagination. She had read widely,
too. and had an individual
habit of Thought Combined
with all her cosmopolitanism
was a quaint and profound purity
Of standards. | remember her say
ing once--it was one of her rare
flashes of self-revelation-"I am an
anomaly and an anachronism, Purl-
tan in modern society After hes
first visit she did not ride on her
horse; but came across lots and
through the, side hedge, swinging
down the hillside yonder with her
light dipping stride that always re-
called to me the swoop of swallow
her gloved hands usually holding a
slender stick.
All those sketches that you saw
were but studies for more serious
attempt to catch and fix her person
ality. Comment by c. X: Couldn't
he have given me in two words her
height and approximate weiSnt) l
did 1t in pastel, and. if I missed
something of her tender and change
full coloring, l at least caught the
ineffabie usefulness of her express
sion, the look of one hoping against
hope for an unconfessed happiness.
Probably I had put more of myself
| into it than 1 had meant. A man is
! likely to when he paints with his
heart as we'll as his brain and hand.
When it was done l made a little
frame for it, and lettered on the
| frame this line:
And her eyes dreamed against a
| distant goal.'
1t was the next day that she read
the line. saw the color die from
her face and flood back again.
"Why did you set that line thereY
she breathed, her eyes fixed on me
with a strange expression. Comment
by C. X. Rosetti again. The dead
woman of the beach quoted 1.-THE
House of Life" also).
"Why note'' | asked ut seems to
express something in you which ]
have tried to embody in the picture
Don't you like it?"
she repeated the line softly. max
ing pure music of it. II love it, she
said.
At that, l spoke as it is given to .
man to speak to one woman in thu
world when he has found her She
listened, with her eyes on the pic
4 tured face. But when | said to her
You, who have all my heart, and
whose name. even, have mott:
there no word for me-" she rose, azit
threw out her hands in a gestdre' tina
sent chill through me.
"oh no! MOI" she cried vehement
ly "Nothing-except good-by. on
why did you speak"
I stood and watched her go. A
the end of the garden walk she