Year: 1878

lngly 10 honor him. That was one
point to be kept steadfastily in mind.


But then, again, she did not propose
10 patronize him SO much for his talents
as for the unconfessed purpose of COM
penSating him for slight mishap which
had befallen him, and of which she had
In some slight degree been the trivial
cause. 1t had always seemed to her so
exquisitely absurd to see the little fellow
eight years since, blubbering over his
little hairy dog. And yet the little
painter had grown handsome, with a
manly look, What sort of heart had
suppIanted that of the fearful boy? 1t
might be an interesting amusement to
probe it. The sorrow of the boy was
an emotional treat in its way: might
not the mature agony of the man be ex-
quisiie?


lt would be great injustice TO Miss
Won Heydenreich to imply that she
analyzed her motives with the result
just indicated. We are seldom careful
to examine any too closely the alembic
wherein the handspring of an unworthy
action lies coiled ;another motive-power
more in consonance with our egotism,
always lies just little further away
and may conveniently be pressed into
service to gild and varnish the occasion.
Hence, while Ursula persistently de-
luded herself that she was about to
patronize and honor Eugene Raymond,
she was in reality actively preparing
to submit him to an inquisitorial ordeal
that had for its end torture.


Well, the sittings began, and the cos
tune and environment elaborately pre-
pared for it showed her to be a daughter
of Gree The room and its inmate
formed an arsenal of seductiveness.
She was in the subtle glow of health,
which in her case took that low cream
color that never flushes and that passion
itself seems to have made so pale.


Yet the young artist braced himself
with thought OF the past, and worked
calmly, followed by the gaze which was
soft and sympathetic for the woman.
Often stealthily he observed those eyes
for they presented a marked contrast TO
the look of hard. selfish triumph that
the girl had photographed on his
memory when boy. But the man had
seen eyes and eyes-eyes that no words
can describe and no pigments portray;
eyes that flicker like the opal; eyes that
draw mems hearts TO love as the magnet
draws the needle; eyes that drive men
mad, as magic philtres drive them mad.
Ursula's eyes were glorious; but they
were disfigured by the film of a cruel
memory, and he was safe.


Lovers, it Is needless TO say, Miss
Won Heydenreich had now in plenty
yet hitherto the favOrite of the hour
had had but small cause to plume him
self on his position. She was naturally
one of those not By any means uncom-
mon pretty women who delude them
they meet would have preferred them,
if the preference had not been hopeless.
OF course she expected Eugene Ray
mond to fall in love with her-into a
love that she might tamper with and
then pitch aside like a garment. If any
one had suggested that such proceed
ing was cruel, in all probability she
would have retorted something like
this:


Let him take care of himself. You
might as well blame the odorous
absinthe for its seduction of the palate
and its confusion of the brain.


But as day after day passed she began
to feel disappointed at the coldness Of
hls bearing. The proud attitude he as
sumed perpleXed her. Why was he so
distant-so formally polite: She smil
ed on him more kindly than ever, yet
neither her beauty nor her condescen-
sion wrought the wild havoc she had
expected with his senses and his reason.
She could hardly believe that his too
obvious Indifference was real.


81 am so much above him. she re-
fected. ''He dare not presume;" and
she resolved that it should be no fault
of hers if he were not undeceived.


Yet the portrait was painted, and he
had made no sign. Nay, he had refus-
ed to accept the sum she had offered
over and above the covenanted price,
and when she had offered her hand at
parting, he had touched it with the
same Interchangeable, cold politeness.
Behind her was the portrait; before
her was his receding form. What had
she gained by her experiment? He
turned the corner and was hid from
her view; and then her face quivered,
her bosom heaved, and she clenched
both hands till the round, white arms
grew hard as marble. Then she bit her
lip once, savagely, and so seemed to re-
gain her accustomed composure and the
usual dignity of her bearing.


Pique of this kind is one of the hardy
perennial plants of the female mind.
For several days Miss Won Heydenreich
struggled unsuccessfully 10 uproot it.
The noble and kindly bearing of the
artist, his respectfully attentive looks,
his courteousness as distinguished from
familiarity, the worth and gentleness
of his manhood. his bright, good
humored face would intrude at all hours
and upon all occasions. In the morn-
ings when she slept late she would be
llapped in delicious dreams of which he
was the central figure. And when she
awoke and found it was but dream
she rose with trembling vexation. She
could not crush ''this madness" as she
termed it, under the iron heel of her
will; for it now thrilled through every
fibre of her being. She was under the
despotic thraldom of the master-passion
of the human mind.


III men dressed in alittle brief author
ity play such fantastic tricks before
Heaven as TO induce angelic tears, what
may be said of woman like Ursula
Won Heydenreich, when possessed OF
L.. of ,,nrarttita1 ma