The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1913-08-25
The EVENING STORY
Achieving a Style.
(By Martha M'Culloch-Willia

(By Martha NJ Observation-Disclosures
"EIoise of the Hair" stood pensive,
almost pouting. So the league had
named her in affectoinate derision of
her crisp red curlS. At first she had
not minded the nickname; indeed it
was not until Morbeth came to crit
icise the classs work that she had
really felt it. Morbeth was very great
in all class eyes; he had barely
glanced at Eloise's sketch, thence to
her hair, and passed on with a NUT
tered indistinguishab bic word. That
had wounded her, all the more that he
had spent full two minutes over Tes-
sa's easel-TeSsa, who was slight, pale
as a moonbeam, with just the faintest
touch of baby gold in her straight
hair, and unfathomable sea-blue eyes.
He had praised her sketch-but criti-
calIy. Tessa had flushed like a rose
under it. Then she was all but beau
tiful. Even Eloise saw it-as she also
saw Morbeth at the door turn delib-
erately around, smile at Tessa and
wave her a gOodby.
She had resolved instantly to throw
up work for the day and vagabondize
after her faVorite fashion. Now, at
almost o'clock, she found herself lar
from her lodgings, in the very heart
of the quarter where almost every
other number marks a table d'hote.
She had eaten no lunch. Hunger as
sailed her wolfiShly as she shifted the
steamy odors waited through the
half-ambushed door. Why not go in?
She never had done it. But other
girls had told her of venturing alone
into such places-'for the experience
of it" She had at the back of her
head literary intentions. When the
urge of art was satisfied she meant to
write a book. Books demanded eX-
perience. Gripping her courage tight,
she turned into a door-in the wake
of a quartet, men and wonderland
off of q
low room to a place very far back, and
rather dimly lighted, which yet had
advantages both for sight and hear
ing.
AT first she had not distinguished
faces clearly. AS her eyes got used
to the light she looked about narrow
~, and almost started as she recoS-
nized Morbeth at the table just be-
yond in company with three older men
artists evidently, as they were talk
ing shop vigorously. For a while it
was all tones and values-verity, the
regular studio jargon-then somehow
the talk veered to actualities, running
presently into a discussion of the
league. Was it worth while? Two
evidently thought so--eagerly, even
enthusiastically. The third was non
committal.
Morbeth for a while was silent. But
at a question he broke out, shaking
his head vigorously. ITS a waste
of time, and youth. and opportunity.
|
Why? Those infants do the most I'M
speakable things. For instance, only
today l saw a snub-nOsed snip of a
girl, with moppy red poll, who has
put the curves of her hair into every
other line she draws, and evidently
feels that she is achieving a STYLE
Eloise heard no more. Very softly,
but determinedly she filled her ears
with paper-fragments shipped from
the margin of her afternoon sheet.
She sheltered herself behind the sheet
until the men had gone. She wanted
to stamp. to clinch her fists and POM
mel hard the man who had so insult
ed her BY doing none of these things
she got through what she afterward
felt to be the most valuable hour of
her whole life. On the car. speeding
home her resolve was taken. she
would go straight home: but she
his sort should not down her-only
Life was equal to that feat.
Her key, turning stormily in the
lock, only let the door fall ajar. AT
frowsy head from an adjoining door.
II set your laundry just inside
and put a letter under the bundle.
AS Eloise murmured thanks, she
was STUN bling within her own narrow
domain. hall room of the better
sort, it yet seemed to cramp and stifle
her She flung up the window, after
kicking aside the bundle, and leaned
tary thought had been, It's just Mary
Lou, wanting me to come home AS
she was certainly going home. Mary
Louis entreaties could wait.
Leaning into a murky night, size
looked into her own soul. This present
disquiet-was it because of the slight
to her work or because MOrbeth was
the slighter? She had idealized him,
worshiped him afar off, sighed tremu-
lous joy in thinking that for even the
7 .S.Nr,c p
her. Now-she realized with flaming
cheeks, she had rot cared to appeal to
him as an artist potential-but as
woman-the woman of all the world.
A long time she hung there-not
crushed by her topping day dream, but
getting her balance. Nature had given
her a level sanity despite her touch
of genius Presently she turned into
the room. raised both arms high, saying
under her breath: "Henceforth l shall
be myself: that's the best part of me
AS she turned on the light, the let
ter stared at her accusingly. AS she
stopped to pick it up, her heart gave a
startled bound. 1t bore a printed
stamp in the upper corner-the name OF
an illustrated weekly to which a fort
night earlier, with fear and trembling,
she had sent caricature- Her hands
shook as she tore the paper-somehov,
she sensed rather than read the con-
tents. Her sketch had found such IA
vor those in authority wanted others
wanted, in fact, to see the artist with
a view to a regular engagement.
That was the beginning. The end
o. 1t is we'll Known. Things full o.
weird scrawls and crinklings took the
public by storm. Indeed, the signature
&c Drayton," came to be much priced
and highly paid for. But z. Drayton
herself did not live in The city. In
stead she was a bird of passage. now
here. now there-at her home in the
midlands, touring Europe. idling on the