The Wolf Point herald. (Wolf Point, Mont.) 1913-1940, 1925-05-14

uscripts bearing upon the ancient CIV
ilization and tribes of Central Amer
lea. Mexico and the tangent region or
the United States where the painted
deserts are. and his compilation OF
data that bore in any way upon the
comparison of the Inca, the Aztec and
the Yucatan civilizations with those Of
Egypt, Greece and Persia. There is
still in existence, covered with dust,
a. pile Of manuscript in his own hand
writing which, 1t appears, was the be-
ginning of a work upon a subject that
only his interest qualified him to at
tempt. A Spectator, gambler, cotton
broker and commission agent, as Brena
has said, does not bring to a preten-
tious scientific work the orderly mind,
the ease of expression nor the reali-
cation of its magnitude that one might
expect in a professor, for instance.
He might better have spent his time
in furnishing to his beautiful young
wife a companionship of some kind,
no matter how inadequate, but he had
closed himself in Il CHASTITY shell of
his own. Sometimes for days she did
not see him at all and only knew of
his presence in his library by his fits
of coughing.
Brena, committed to waiting for the
conclusive end to this distorted exist
ence, which something within told her
destiny would bring, found refresh
ment only in her days. When morning
came there was an escape; she could
go by train or motor to the city.
Though she found among the persons
she met and those who worked with
her in the Forest pottery, founded
with her own money, that she Ca grim
joke) was looked upon distantly as
a young. rich, contented wife, she
drank down long drafts of the pleas
ures Of creative labor and Of the pat
ronage she was able to give to young
women whose talents deserved devel-
opment. Her activity would have
been sufficient, however, if it had
served only to submerge the memories
of nights alone In her two great rooms
when the wind played mournful melo-
dies as if on the bars of moonlight
that fell through the gates of Parma
lees estate and across the damp lawn
from which, winter and summer, there
arose the odors of decay and death.
If the idea that she was wasting her
rare youth, her marked beauty and
the full capacities of her wOmanhood
sometimes oppressed her, she at least
kept her peace. Something OF firm
ness, not there before, began to APP
pear upon her face. Probably no mir
ror could have shown her as clearly
the woman she was throwing away
as the portrait of her painted during
this period by young %Sydenham, who
had just come over from England.
He succeeded, it was said, In K
pressing in his colors and bold method
that extraordinary combination in
Brena which gave her the atmosphere
of the permanence of a temple and
yet the simmer of a golden moment,
come n gone in a warm transitory
glow beneath her cream-colored skin,
a glimmer of light from her golden-red
hair, or some almost imperceptible
hexure Of her sensitive lips.
Parmalee, urged by his wife, saw
this portrait when young Sydenham
had finished it. He thrust his glances
at it in his usual way and several
times turned one ear toward the pic
ture as if inviting words from it.
"A person y he said. And most of
her is there-a good deal of her soul
A glorious piece of color-a massive
glow, and vet her eyes-they are the
masters of the canvas. That is aston
ishing@"
Of course Sydenham beamed. He
fed upon admiration-as much, per-
haps, upo that which came to him
because he was one of those men who
may be called a beautiful youth and
had been petted by the idle rich and
their daughters, as upon the praises
for his extraordinary art.
well, | shall bury it." Parmalee had
said with a sudden unannounced de-
termination for which Brena was I'M
prepared. She showed it by the aston
ishment in her eyes.
Sydenham smiled. He said: But,
Mr.. Parmalee, it was the understand
with Mrs. Parmalee that | was to
exhibit the picture. All things ION
sidered, it is the best thing | have
ever done. l have planned TO exhibit
my things rather widely in America.
Shall | say that | I'M going en- tour
across the country? After exhibiting
why then-of course"
Parmalee's face contorted. He wet
his lips.
you nave a price, he. snapped out.
%Sydenham, the s~elf-confident, the
whimsical, the theatrical youth, waved
his pale hand.
cat present there is no price, Mr..
he said.
The cotton broker pulled at his col