Year: 1870

in my company, so was forced to COM
ply.


We stopped before large painting that
occupied the next best position to my
own. 1t was my masters work, the Con-
version of ST. Paul, and while l was
telling him of my stu1ies in the atelier of
the painter, man started from before us
and glided away, but not before l had
seen and recognized the pale countenance
of Van ROos


There was something in the expression
of his face that shocked me-something
that stopped my breath and made me
shudder. What it was-I scarcely knew I;
but the glare of his dark eyes and the
quivering passion of his lips haunted me
for the rest of the day, and came back
again in my dreams
said nothing of it to Gertrude that af-
ternoon, but it had effectually sobered
my exultation. 1 dreaded next day to re-
turn to the studio; but to my surprise my
master received me as he never had re.
ceived me before. He advanced and ex-
tended his hand to me.
"Welcoine, Franz Linden" he said,
smiling, am proud to call you my pu-
pill"


The hand was cold, the voice was harsh,
the smile was passionless. My compa-
mons crowded round and congratulated
me, and in the warm tones Oftheir young
cheerful voices, and the close pressure of
their friendly hands, l forgot all that had
troubled me in the manner of Van Roos.


Not long after this event Gertrude's
father desired to have her portrait painted
to console him for her absence, he said,
when | should be so wicked as to take
her away from him. / recommended my
old master, whose tutelage 1 had recently
left, and Van Roos was summoned to fill a
task that 1 would gladly have performed
had it been in my power to do SO. But
pOrtraiture was not in my line. | could
paint a sleek, spotted milch COW or a
drove of sheep far better than the fair
skin or the golden curls of my Ger
trude


She could not endure the artist from the
first. In vain [ reasoned with her-all
was of no use, and she used to say at the
end of every such conversation, that she
wished the portrait was finished, and that
she could no more help disliking him
than-than she could help loving me- And
so our arguments always ended with a
kiss.


But this portrait took long time. Van
Roos was in general rapid painter, yet
Gertrude's likeness progressed at a very
slow pace, and like Penelope's web,
seemed never to be completed.


One morning 1 happened to be ia the
rOom-a rare event at that time, for was
hard at work upon my new landscape ;
and was struck by the change that had
come over my late master-he was no
longer the same man. There was light
hi in nrpa
that | had never observed before, and
when he rose to take leave there was a
studied courtesy in his bow and manner
that took me quite by surprise.


Still, l never suspected the truth, and
still the portrait was as far as it ever was
from being finished.


1t all came out at last, and one morning
Hans Van ROos made formal offer of his
hand and heart.


OF course ne was refused.


"But. as kindly as was possible, dear
Franz, she said, when she told me in the
evening, because he is your friend, and
because he seemed to feel it so deeply
And you don't know how dreadfully pale
he turned, and how he tried to restrain
his tears. | pitied him, Franz-indeed, |
was sorry"


And the gentle creature could scarce
keep from weeping herself as she told me-


did not see Van Roos for some months
after this disclosure.


At last met him in front of the Stadt
House, and, TO my surprise, for the second
time in his life he extended his hand.


"a good day to you, Messer Linden, !"
said he; 81 hear that you are on the high
road to fortune"


81 have been very fortunate, Messer
Van Roos," replied, taking the proffered
hand; "but l shall never forget that
owe my present efficiency to the hours
spent in your atetier."


A peculiar expression fitted over his
face.


of thought that" he said hastily, 81
4 should esteem myself particularly
happy"


way in which he uttered the beginning
and end of this sentence-SO much hurry
and passion in the first half, such delib-
crate pOliteness in the last, that l started
and looked him full in the face. He was
as smiling and impenetrable as marble
statue


Il, too, have been fortunate" he said,
after moments pause. "Have you
seen the new church lately built at the
east end of the Haring vliet?"
| replied that l observed it in passing,
but had not been inside.
81 have been intrusted," he said, after
moments pause, with the superin-
tendence of the interior decorations My
Conversion of ST. Paul is purchased for
the altar-piece, and am now engaged in
painting a series of frescoes upon the cell
ing. Will you come in some day and give
me your opinion upon them?"
professed myself much flattered, and
appointed to meet him in the church on
the following morning


He was waiting for me at the door,
when arrived, with a heavy key in his
hand. We passed in, and he turned the
key in the lock.


Il always secure myself against intrud-
ers," he said, smiling. "People will
come into the church if leave the doors
unlastene1, and / do not choose to carry
on my art like sign painter, in the pres
ence of every blockhead who chooses to
stand and stare at me-"


1t was surprising in what a disagrceable
manner this man would show his teeth
when he smiled.


in that Italian style which initiates the
antique, anu prefers naSnluCcncc I'D lit
dignified sanctity of the Gothic order A
row of elegant Corinthian columns sup
ported the roof at each side of the nave
| gliding and decorative cornices were Law
ished in every direction.


The gorgeous altar-piece already occu
pied its appointed station, and little tt
the left of the rallied space, where the
communion table was to be placed, scat
fold was erected, that seemed from where
/ stood to almost come in contact will
the roof, and above which observed tht
yet unfinished sketch of mastery con
ception.


Three or four more, already completed
were stationed at regular intervals, ant
some others were merely outlined in char
coal upon their intended sites.


"Will you not come up with meS'
asked the painter, when l had expressed
=. "a