The Huttig news., 1915-03-06
his countenance In the paIIor of the moonlight, as though you were see

| ing ghosts"
 T am,' said Samson. Let's go.'
 Adrienne had not yet seen her DOT trait. Samson had needed few hour of finishing when he left New York though it was work which could bs done away from the model So it wat natural that when the party reached Paris Adrienne should soon insist or crossing the Pont d'Alexandre III to his studio near the "Boule Mich for ar 1 inspection of her commissioned canvas 1 For a while she wandered about the businesslike place, filtered with the gear of the painters craft. It was, ir a way, form of mind-reading, fol , Samson's brush was the tongue of his soul.
 The girls eyes grew thoughtful as she saw that he still drew the leering saturnine face of Jim Asberry He had not outgrown hate, then? But she said nothing until he brought out and set on an easel her own portrait For moment she gasped with sheer delight for the colorful mastery of the technique, and she would have been hard to please had she not been de lighted with the conception of her self mirrored in the canvas It was a face through which the soul showed and the soul was strong and flawless The girls personality radiated from the canvas-and yet A disappointed little look crossed and clouded her eyes. She was conscious of an in. definable catch of pain at her heart.
 Samson stepped forward, and his waiting eyes, too, were disappointed.
 You don't like it, Drennie?" he anxiously questioned. But she smiled in answer, and declared:
 T love it."
 He went out afew minutes later to telephone for her to Mrs Lescott, and gave Adrienne carte blanche to browse among his portfolios and stacked can vases until his return. In few min- utes she discovered one of those eff forts which she called his "rebellious pictures"
 These ws'e such things as he paint ed, using no model except memory perhaps, not for the making of finished pictures, but merely to give outlet to his feelings; an outlet which sore men might have found in talk.
 This particular canvas was roughly blocked in, and it was elementally simple, but each brush stroke had been thrown against the surface with the concentrated fire and energy of a blow, except the strokes that had painted the face, and there the brush had seemed to kiss the canvas. The picture showed a barefooted girl, standing, in barbaric simplicity of dress, in the glare of the arena, while gaunt lion crouched eyeing her. Her head was lifted as though she were listening to faraway music In the eyes vas indomitahle courage Tha. canvas was at once a declaration of love, and a miserere. Adrienne set it ap beside her own portrait, and. as she studied the two with her chin rest ing on her gloved hand, her eyei cleared of questioning. Now she knew what she missed in her own more beautiful likeness. It had been paint ed with all the admiration of the mind. The other had been dashed off straight from the heart-and this other was Sally! She replaced the sketch where she had found it. and Samson return ing found her busy with little sketches of the Seine.
 
 "Drennie," pleaded Wilfred Horton, as the two leaned on the rail of the Mauretania, returning from Europe. are you going to hold me off in- definitely? I've served my seven years for Rachel, and thrown in some extra time. Am no nearer the goal?"
 The girl looked at the oily heave of the leaden and cheerless Atlantic, and it's somber tones found reflection in her eyes. She shook her head.
 q wish I knew she said, wearily Then she added vehemently: I'm not worth it. Wilfred. Let me go. Chuck ne out of your life as little pig who can't read her own heart; who is too utterly selfish to decide upon her own life"
 'Is it'-he put the question with foreboding-sthat after all. was a prophet? Have you-a and South - wiped your feet on the doormat marked 'Platonic friendship?' Have you done that, Drennie?"
 She looked up into his eyes. Her owu were wide and honest and very full of pair
 Mo-" she said, Eve haven't done that, yet 1 s-less we won't. think he'd rather stay outside, Will fred If I Was sure l loved him, and that he loved me, I'd feel like cheat there is the other girl to think of. And, besides, I'm not sure what I want myself =. But I'm horribly afraid I'm going to end by losing you both..
 Horton stood silent. It was tea time, and from below came the strains of the ships orchestra. A few ulster- muffled passengers gloomily paced the deck.
 .You won't lose us both Drennie"