The Owosso times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1897-1926, 1915-09-03

near the window. Bronson fretted
impatiently at the girls delay. He
had intended to inquire today more
particularly into her manner of liv-
ing. His night had been troubled and
wakeful ut the thought of her bright
presence, Drawing the struggle for ex-
lstence. What sacrifice and deprivation
might she not be undergoing for a
dream Of art which might be no more
than a dream! This, at least, his own
knowledge could decide for her If she
would come. But the opposite chair
remained vacant.
"Mademoiselle comes not today" the
garrulous waiter remarked. made
mOiselle, the green manikin.' Is alb
sent"
Bronson sat up with start.
"MademOiselle who? he asked rath-
er sharply.
"She who dimes with you," the
waiter imperturbably replied, made
moiselle who is what you call 'manikin
or model for the great modiste. Surely
monsieur has heard of the green man.
ikin from Franquetta's."
Yes, Bronson had heard, remembered
having seen the model pictured In
Franquetta's window, a graceful figure
clad always in garments soft tinted as
the oceans foam, and the model was
his frank faced student-she of the
tenement room. The two seemed IT.
reconcilable.
Abruptly he left his UNLISTED meal; a
satirical smile curled his lips. So his
sympathy had all been wasted, i'm
posed upon. The green model Of Fran
quetta's was evidently In no need of
pity.
For a moment he hesitated before
the glittering letters of the modiste's
sign, then passed into the miniature
theater. Before the parted curtain he
waited, watching tensely the girlish
figure framed in the cleaning lights.
Clad in bright green from shoulder to
satin heel stood the girl whose appeal
ing presence had so deeply stirred his
heart.
Mechanically, automatically, like
some manikin In q play, she moved
across the brilliant stage, displaying
to an admiring audience the beauties
of her costume. Bitterly the man
turned from her steady painted smile
to pass out again into the street. So
the struggling art student. the beloved
little student, had never been. Across
his very memory of her must ever
flash that crimson painted smile. He
frowned disapproval when next day
the girl herself slipped quietly into her
accustomed seat.
May l tell you" she asked. 1.-THE
story of green model who. unlike
your difficult heroine. Is not exactly
as she seems. not exactly common
place? Her story may even have heart
interest"
Wondering. he silently bowed his
head. The girl laughed TREMENDOUSLY.
Fame Is an Elusive thing" she quot
ed. "One may more quickly find her
because of ones ability to wear a Ger
tain color than for the reward Of tire
less years of study. Over In America
my old father and my mother and the
sister who has always been sick wait
for success in art which was prophe-
sled surely for me. To this purpose
were carefully-oh, so carefully-hoard.
ed the savings of years. This had also
been my fathers youthful dream-to
go abroad and perfect his own sketch
es, to achieve fame which critics prom.
Used. Marriage and later cares had
forced this dream aside. but now 1t
was to be fulfilled. gloriously fulfilled,
in myself, the daughter.
"But that which had seemed an as
sured inherited talent at home became
here a doubtful promise, and at length
the savings were gone-all gone! Do
you see, then" she cried passionately,
what / have been doing? Deceiving
them all along; writing, as l fan
cied the glow on their faces, of how
one sketch had been accepted, of how
another brought the check inclosed,
and all the time-all the time was
but a dressmaker's model, manikin
In green. How else could one make
money here alone in foreign land?
But now"-her voice broke despairing-
ly-"how dare go back, with my
hooking boast of art?"
Something gripped hard at the mans
throat, and his hand reached out to
clasp the girls.
Tomorrow" he said slowly-"tomor-
row L want to see those sketches"
Tomorrow he saw them. AS he turn
ed them over, looking intently at each,
an expression Of admiration gathered
on his face. When he came to the last
he looked up at her and said:
It's the old story-genius STOPPING
to feed on crumbs from the rich mans
table while It secured recognition"
And to two old people seated before
their farmhouse door there came one
eve letter. Read It," said the moth
er. Its from our girl beyond the sea-"
The old man glanced quickly back
from the closely written page. why"
he cried-"why, she's to illustrate that
great authors new book. mother, our
own little girl"'
In speeches. Joy they gazed into
each others face. Then together they
finished the letter.
Books and pictures must ever wait
for love-" wrote the girl, 80 David
Bronson and l are coming home to-
gether. Your daughter has married