The West Virginian. [volume] (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1914-1974, 1916-04-10

i7t1iinGian. Surely worthwhile ste'-
lry ot s0sio nature should develop
frC'.r. these abandoned aud probably
lol,g forgotten paintings.
She laughed aloud as she saw tho
FIRST one. Surely no less artistic use
of paint and canvass had been made.
And each one seemed more absurd
and tonelcss than its predecessor. So
far as art was concerned, these pant
ingS were scarcely on al eyel with
8ridSctt's singing.
Surely tho story of a sud or even
tragic finish hung closely about these
deserted CanVasSes! 1t took some
time for Anne to recognize the fact
that the sketches had been made III
tho meadows through which she so Of.
ten walked for inspiration. One less
familiar with the Landscape might
have mistaken the sorry affairs tor
scenes OF China.
Poor soul" soliloquized Anne. SIS
there ANYTHING SO sad in life as miss.
ing ones ideal?"
Then she sat down at once and
worked out a Delightfully."- romantic
tale about those Canvasses found in
the thatch. No doubt the plot was
bromide, hut tho story had novelty
and charm enough to sell for IN unu.
sually large sum.
In her story. Anne had been SO real
isttc in her treatment as 10 quote
some lines she had discovered on the
back OF wooden box which hud once
held paint tubes. Farewell to art
Granville" was the touching and sug.
gestive legend. Anne had smiled when
she read the words, for really there
had been no art to bid farewell TO. But
apparently the painter had thought
differently Anne wondered II he had
gone back to the brushes and was
now starving in n garnet Or haunting
magazine offices with struggling hair,
wild eyes aud I'm armful Of trocious
drawings.
-
AS mate: OF fact, Jack Granville,
a month later, was comfortably OH.
sconed In his most luxurious armchair
smoking good cigar. His hair was
short cropped, his eyes were wild only
with the life that sparkled in them
and there was nothing at I'LL in his
general make up to suggest Bohemia
or the artistic temperament.
1t was the hour of his rather hearty
bachelor breakfast and his six feet OF
decided masculinity was still envelop.
cd in futurist.patterned dressing
gown which he had slipped on after
his cold bath, a cup OF excellent cof-
fee streamed on table beside him
and copy of a popular magazine lay
open on the broad arm Of his chair.
His valet whistled softly in the adj
Joining room.
"Stubbs!" called out Granville sud
denly. Get Evans on the wire. l
want to talk with him"
While Stubs was getting into COM
munication with the editor Of the
magazine in which Anne Morrcll's
story was published, Granville sat
with half closed eyes bordering over
the odd situation. Evans was his in
innate friend, it happened, so Gran
vile knew he was on the right track.
Peach" was the intelligent express.
sion Evans used to picture Anne to
his inquiring friend. GLORIOUS red
hair and a pair OF eyes that make you
blink. I've proposed to her half a
dozen times. but there's nothing do
Ing in that line. One Of these welded
to art temperament girls, you know"
After sufficient good-natured delay
on Evans part, Granville was given
Anne's address and that afternoon he
donned his most attractive habili-
ments ordered Stubs to bring around
his car and motored over to the Nor
reIl's home.
Bridget pointed to the summer
house at the foot of the garden when
Granville asked for Miss Morrell.
"Sure ven be sorry man II We dis
turb her IN one OF thin frances" she
admontshed Granville as no turned
quickly toward the thatch.
Anne looked out Of her tiny window
when crunching footsteps warned her
of some ones approach. Then she
popped her head over the rustic rail
ing and Granville smiled in apprecia-
ton. Evans. he admitted had not ex-
aggerated. Then memory turned him
back to youthful days when he had