Year: 1878

In the everyday working world there
are hot sunshine and rattle of carriages,
the ceaseless tread of restless feet and
the confused Babel of a thousand differ
ent sounds. But in the very throng OF
it one can turn into long high hall,
climb wide dim stairway, and enter a
totally different place and atmosphere;
that is Don Lepels studio.


Fonr easels are in the room, ON each
an unfinished picture, and the whole
air of the place is that of still, thought
full, purposeful work. Lepel is q
painter of the modern school-industri
GUS aud thoroughly respectable, with
fashionable visiting list, and good
credit in the Second National Bank.


l am sorry to admit that he ID not
handsome. People expect beauty oi
artists; but Lepel is short and rather
stout, and has other deficiencies not
worth particular mention Still, as he
stands before his easel with his palette
on his thumb, calling up on his canvas
a face of exquisite beauty, there is
sense of power about this ordinary man
which almost ennobles him.


He has been working this warm June
day since early morning, and he is satis-
fled with himself. ''I will go to the
Park now," he says, approvingly; 81
shall enjoy a stroll, and perhaps 1 may
take pull up the lake."


That was Lepel's very sensible idea OF
recreation; and he had quite tired him.
self with the first part of his programme
when he came to a little rustic seat un-
der some pines near the upper boat
house. There was girl sitting reading
at one end of the bench, but she was
very young and very shabby, and he did
not in the least fear that she would con-
slider him an intrusion.


At first he watched the boats, but
gradually his companion attracted him.
Her form was faultless, and he found
himself dressing and posing it in all the
characters which just then occupied his
pencil. OF her face he could see moth
ing at all, for there was little brown
sun-shade between them. This was SO
far favorable that it allowed him to make
q thumb-nail sketch of her attitude,
which was extremely natural and grace
full; and he had scarcely done it when
fortune played him pleasant rick; the
girl, in attempting to tear open a leaf,
let her sun-shade slip; it fell to the
ground, and Lepel stopped and lifted it
for her.


The next moment they stood face to
face, and Lepel exclaimed, in tones
which were strange mixture of pleas
ure and annoyance, "Why, Bee ] Is 1t
possible |"


Bee shrugged her shoulders and said,
petulantly, she supposed it was.


'And have been sitting beside You
twenty minutes. and did not know you. "


''I knew you"


"Why did you not speak p


"My dress was so shabby-and my
shoes. suppose you have grown rich. "


"Do you suppose 1 have grown q
snob also, Beef Sit down; l want to
talk to you"


''Really ?"


"Yes, really. Where is your father
nowP"


''He died last summer"


"Poor child What have you been
doing since?'


"I can find nothing to do. During
the opera season 1 sang in the chorus
and I made my money last as long az
possible. But l am very poor; you car
see that"


"Bee, 1 owed your father some money
for copying"


"No, you did not, Mr.. Lepel. YoI
cannot offer me charity on that plea
But if you know any way to get m'
work, that would be a great kindness
if not, 1 must live as the birds do, from
crumb to crumb, till winter comes"


"Suppose you let me board you will
Signor z. He would prepare yol
for q haitian on, nso o.av,,apf and Won N0ul