OCR Text |
Show HaLLY.PiUJE DEVELOPS A TASTE or ALT 4 "So nwih for youth nr?d the joy of frch emotion." bo lightly I laughed, because ne whs certainly doc old Yet 1 remembered tho bitterness of his iolee a moment br ! ! fori-"Why fori-"Why do you go with such people?" he asked nio Abruptly He did not say what people, yet I knew I that bo referred to my companions on the evening A I when 1 hnd first seen hint at Mouquiu's. i J Now. because I had realized that these people had 1 I seemed cheap In his eyes oven as they had In mln. I I I was accordingly provoked with him. j8 1 If j "They nre my frle-nda," I remarked stiaiy. . i , 'j "Our ho Mid easily, "that's unfortunate, b.vause j ? now I cuuDot relieve my mind concerning them: be- wlrh its stern problem of work to rw found But this hour was mine. Not the thought of anything should mar It. I suppose that I was mud. "Yes. I will go." I suld, "bnt I am going on th Fifth avenue stage " The Night Beautiful. I clung to some shadow of conventionality, Tho suid dignity of the stage conch seemed to suggest imt such utter daring as n spin In a frivolous taxlcnb. If he bad laughed I should not have pone. Hut he did not even srolle. I almost believe that he read my ery thought We climbed upon the top and found the front vat vacant. It was a beautiful lide down the avenue. BY ELISE WILLIAMSON. r-ij:t M. 1010. r.r ibe New York ItoraM Cn. All rlehu rrvrr4. . "M goin' to pet a guide book to this here Met- 9 ropolltan Museum of Art. I alius says that B pictures Is Jes' like preserves yew onn't make B head nor tall of 'em If they aiu't libelled!" I turned upon hearing tbls remarkable statement state-ment to behold a little old lady who was herself oiully. though unconsciously, labelled "New England Eng-land " Tier prim little figure was dressed In black alpaca. 1 1 f r neckwear was of spotless white, and above it rose her delicate, sharp featured face. But the real personal touch to the old lady was her bonnet. That bonnet wa a delight a bif of millinery that was a masterpiece of expression. It was self-assured eveu aggressive. It was unyielding and orthodox. It h.td been created for Its wearer and no other, and the wore It as a part of herself Tt whs fashioned of mourning silk and a bit of jet that stood up straight as a ramrod. I had thought the specie. extinct "Oh. most upright judge!" I murmured as I gazed upon it "Little mercy would I hope from you If you know my secret sin of this very minute. Here in tho Metropolitan Art Mnscnui. and with scarcely two coins to clink together and out of work!" The little old Indy had In charge a limp female whom I felt sure she bad pilots! thither lu perfect safety across the most crowded thoroughfares, for even the callous heart of a New York cub horse must needs have rejected re-jected the authority vested In that bonnet. "What an aid It would be to the policeman," I bought, "if only a pattern might be obtalued!" The check nnui suggested that he relieve the old ndy of her umbrella and three parcels, so 1 left them, lushed through the little brass revolving gate and tood In the quiet rotunda of the museum. T wandered about without a guide. Just led solely vy my lnstiuct aud taste. I came al Inst to ;i bronze rroup that puzzled me. It was utterly dlflerent from tuythlng else. Jt made me catch my breath sharply. It was the nude figure of a woman, one foot a-tlp-:oe. the other lifted as If treading upon air. The leure was flight, almost spiritlike, only very' human, no. In one upraised hand was a cluster of grapes ind in her face a wild, mad, insane Joy. In the left irm she held an Infant whose body and face mirrored mir-rored the emotions of hers, but in Its own infantine vay as the stars give light even as the sun. The baby bands reached for the fruit and the face wan Irtink with the unknown dream of desire. There was lomctblng unholy about it, and yet It was not coarse nor Immoral, because it was real. "What Is It what Is it?" I thought. I had never beard of the MacMonnles Bacchante. "It must be the sensuality of excess," I thought. Just then the little old lady and her charge came ilong. The bonnet bristled with disapproval. "I'm Jes' showln' yew this because It's here," the old lady explained, "an long's yew're her.e yew might is well aee It all. But It's a siauder to the .sex. skn ?r thing. But the newspapers dew tell erbout sleh carryiu's on among them big rich folks thet tbey's no lellin' cf there ain't more trewth than poetry in it, jes" Ihc same." The limp female turned toward her In mild horror. "Oh, Cousin Effy! I wouldn't soy that now. 'Taint tinder Christian " "Well." replied the old lady tarlly, "ef "taint so ivhy's It here theu?" The limp female vouchsafed no response. They passed on and the Bacchante laughed I climbed more stairs and came to where the paint ngs were. My heart beat qnickly with a pleasure I tad never experienced before. I had never dreamed that pictures could hold a cmssngo for me, something that I could not translate Into words, only Just feel, There was one painting of the sea, the fresh sa'.l fa. with the sun upon It and laughing mermaid iporting In the waves. All of a sudden I knew that 1. Vo. bad seen these merfolk and known and loved them, only I had not the magic power of calling them op before others' eyes. I realized for tbe first time something of the marvel of art, and n strange longing for this magic power came to me like a faint wind iml was gone. After that 1 seemed to move In a Irnam, drinking In the beauty of what I saw as a parched flower drinks in the rain. There was. oh! such a tiny cnuvas beside these ;.ircer ones that held me long. I have -ince learned lli.it it Is called "The Questioner of the Sphinx." The Man Appears. ' ' There at the lips of that gigantic mystery, portrayed por-trayed upon so small a chiivhs, a worn, ascetic figure I'nt listening. At tbe lils of the eternal silence thu ar of faith! I was glnd that the old lady of the bonnet was not near. It Is best sometimes to be alone. After a time I went on. At the end of one of the rooms hung a rery large canvas. Bastien Lepage's "Jeanne d'Aic." But I did not know this at Hie time. I only knew thnl here was something to bring the swift tears, here w,!s a strange new beauty that I had ncver'seen portrayed por-trayed before, a beauty of the spirit alone, a white flame that burned within, making holy the rough outer temple, oh! I can see now thai figure of the Maid if Orleans, the heavy peasant body clad In coarse homespun and the fare of her transfigured, blue gray ecs wide and gazing at the vision of things to be, lisieulng to the voices of the three who spoke. The f'lio is armor, the veiled one and that other one who wpt. Tin; light of truth was now to be shed upon my Ig- norainc)' The omnipresent old lady aud the limp fni:ile were there, guide book in hand. "That's Juhnnu of Arc." the old lady announced, looking critically over ber glasses. As there was no reNpouse she turned toward her charge, who. perceiving perceiv-ing that something was expected of her. coughed do-I'nc-.uingiy aud remarked "Hie ok iitt. She has lots of strength of cbarae- I'T. OlHn I ffy" 'lie's seelu" things," said the old lady. '"! I did want to laugh. I turned away to find my-lf my-lf gazing into n pair of amused eyes. I smiled, be-miim be-miim for the moment humor hid vanquished personality. person-ality. Here was a human creature who laughed with me. Bm ;, sudden warning Unshed to my brain. I remembered not to smile into strange eyes. But were these eyes strange? With the speed of light these thoughts tame to me. My gae fell upon the man's hands long, slim, curiously curi-ously white. "The man from Mourjuln's." said my heart. This man I hnd seen once before in Mouquiu's Tea t aura nt. I lie had courteously returned to we u handkerchief One, when I am gone to sea. Mayl you will marry some one Just been use of the loneliness." "No, I will not." 1 cried almost angrily, "Why?" He sec-iried a b't surprised nt my vehemence. vehe-mence. "Because I tdiall never marry. I do not wish to. lie laughed "Oh! Now that's too bad! I was Jut about to mgges-t that yon come along to India with ne. We could find a parson before curfew rings." I laughed a triile nervously, bnt faced his eye? bravely. "f should nocr, nnver marry you in the worki," 1 dedaied. "Ami why, may I ask?" he questioned, amused. "Because," I told him. "I could never be free. N oue could ever be free who I stumbled over th wordl loved you." He was silent for n moment with lowered eyes. Then he asked, softly: "And dors It mean po roneh to yon, Little "Wise One, to be free?" "It means everything In the world to me," I cried, ! cannot live if I am not free." Tli" liqueur arrived and was set before us. Th waiter departed. There was nothing said for a few moments nnd then: "Iocs marriage mean that to you an utter les of freedom?" "I do not know." I faltered. T.-ove roeiuyj a lac of freedom, doesn't It?" After a little while of nunce he leaned across tb table and looked deeply Into my eyes. "(Jreat Clod! I wonder If you could understand!" In said. I did not know what t was I was to understand, and 1 dhl not nrge him to tell mc; I was afraid. "What Is going 1o become of you. Little Wise One, when I am out on the sea? The loneliness Is a devil of hell," he said, "and you have blood In your veins and you want to be free. I do not want you to go oti ever again with those people you came here with tb other night. Do you hear?" The Surrender. I T opened my eyes wide at his tone of authority, hut I did not resent it. lie did not ask me to proml.se. Fie only told mn what he did not want mo to do and then he changed the subject. It was twelve o'clock when we left. It seemed so natural when he beckoned to the chauffeur of ft waiting wait-ing taxlcab. "Irive up Riverside," he ordered. We went up Broadway as far as Seventy-second street, then crossed to the driveway. The river lay to the left like ft long black shadow. There was a sprinkling of lights on the Jersey shore. It was starlight star-light overhead and there was ti sense of broodina peace in the all'. We rarely spoke. I do not know what my thoughts were, if I thought at all. I seemed In a dream. We came at last to Claremont. It looked like fairyland, fairy-land, with Its summer garden aud lighted verandas The far off sound of gentle gayety drifted to us. I was afraid that he might suggest that we stop, but he did not. We turned here and started back. A cool salt breeze blew upou us. 'dli! From the seaT I cried in delight "You love the sea, don't you?" he said. "More than almost anything in 'the world," I cried. He leaned near, but did not touch me. 'Come with me to India. Little Wise One. We would be together on the sea. You could be as free ns the air. I swear It. I would never try to hold you against your will. Marry me or not. as you please, onlv come with inc." I turned to him with frightened eyes. ' Oh. I could not do that! Do you not see? I could not marry you. I do not want to marry any one. And If would be wicked not to marry. Do you not ce? I could not do that." "Yes, I see," he said soberly. "Ton are n stxang child." 1 leaned back with closed eyes. Burning tears Bllpped from beneath the lids. I do not know why I cried. We rode home to the boarding house in silence. When we got out he dismissed the cab. I gave hira the key to unlock the storm door. We stepped into the vestibule. He unlocked the Inner door and returned re-turned the key to me. As I took it from him his hand closed over mine. I understood then why I had thought his hands cruel. The touch of them wus a chain of Ore that knew no mercy. It drew me to him. His arms wero nbont me. Ill" lips uion mine. I knew, for ono brief moment, the glory of surrender. Then he pushed, mo roughly from him. but still holding my Lands. His f.u-c was wild, like the sea in a storm, and be laughed the old mocking sea laugh, that was both tender and cruel. "You have kissed me." he whispered fiercely. "You w III never be free again. Never so long as you remember, re-member, and you shall remember so long as there is blood In your body. Y'ou little wild elf thing! Y'ou may marry whom you please, but you are mine, mine! Then he grew strangely calm. lie turned my two hands over gently aud laid his burning face In the palms of them. "Oh. Little Wise One, Little X'lse One!" he whispered whis-pered , and was gone. I stumbled blindly up the stairs and opened at last my door. It was even as be bad said. The loneliness stabbed me; that tormenting loneliness that is a devil of hell. I crept iuto bed aud lay staring into the dark. I seemed wholly cut off from all the past of my life. IXeu the happening of the hours Just gone by, the meeting with the man from Mouquln's, what he had said to me, and the touch of his Hps upon mine seemed more symbolic of what might bu rather than something that hud actoaily occurred. I seemed utterly ut-terly alone. The horror of it shook me. Then into that dark hour there stole the sense of f . presence Infinitely sweet and calm. It was m mother who came to me In my need. She seemed to gather we Into her arms Jnsl ns she used to do when I was a little girl and soothed my troubled spirit iuto rest. So the terror of loueliness crept away, and though I knew it was there, lurklug In tho dark, there was also love, and we are never alone so long as there U love, "Oh, Jod. leach mo to be strong!" I prayed in my heart. That was the first real prayer I had ever maile. " , Aud bo ended the flr&t lesson, The omnipresent old lady and the limp female were there, guide book in hand. which 1 had dropped. That was all. Y'et I had never forgotten him. I am sure that now my fin e flushed I turned again o the picture, but it was no longer "Jeanne d'Arc" that I saw. The very atmosphere of the place seemed suit barged with this one man's presence. .1 moved leisurely on and though ho did not follow 1 felt him near. After many wanderings I came iimii a slugle group in marble It was called "Mother." There wns no need of explanatory title here. .The t haste figure of a woman knelt, holding within the circle of her arms n babe asleep. Such adoration! Such utterly pure love! So might Mary have held her little Son. all nnguessing of Calvary. There were tears in my eyes. 1 put out my hand and touched the little baby softly; it seemed just asleep. "You may awaken him." said a soft, mocking vox e in n sort of lender raillery. The tone subtly implied I lie privilege of long tried friendship. I did nor turn, because of the tears, but I knew who stood beside me, and I trembled. "Come," said the man from Mouquiu's gently, ' there Is a picture that jou have missed. I want you tu see it." He stood beside me waiting courteously, patiently. He said no more than tbnt and yet I went with him. Why? I do not know. Ask the fishermen who hear the sirens sing why they go out to the reefs. We went again through the galleries and I saw wiih his eyes beauty that I had not dreamed of before. He explained everything to me. imide me understand what until then I hnd but dimly guessed. And always lu that mocking, half srornful voice of his. It did not seem strange to be walking there beside htm. I had the queerest feeling of havlug shared some ronyuon past with him. It wns like the memory of a dream. Now und then I would start at a certain tone of his voice as if something were almost recalled re-called what I could not tell. His presence filled me with pence and at the same lime a surging restlessness and a fenr. When the gong sounded for closing up time I could scarcely believe It was so late. We went out together. "It Is beautiful in the Bark now," he said. "Shall we walk? Or perhaps you would prefer to ride?" Such gentle assurance. I could not help but smile. After all, why not? The old lebelliou against conventionality con-ventionality possessed me. I looked tit hi in aud laughed. "If you are sine that It will not interfere In any way with jour plans 1 should prefer to walk," I said. We turned into the Paik. Suddenly I looked nt him. "Y'ou remind me of some one whom I have kuowu, but I cannot recall who it is." He gazed down upon me from under lowered lids, "Y'ou remind me of some one whom I have never known, but I kuow quite well who it is," lie said. I retreated hastily. "You know u great deal about art," I remarked. "l'erhaps," he smiled, "but not so much as you." I was angry. The Loved Art. "I know nothing whatever," I replied with ley dig-nity. dig-nity. "You could hardly have failed to observe that." "On the contrary, I observed that you knew more than I," he repeated, quite unruffled. Then his fnc? changed to an expression I could not read, ' Whereas I have only a carefully cultivated taste for nrt, the love of It Is In your blood." I was startled at the wave of bitter feeling that swept his voice, a wave crested with envy that broke upon his final words. Almost lnstaully his face became be-came again uiaskllkc, enigmatical. shies it must be beastly iii'-on venient to have fricDds that seem ridiculous to you." I turned toward him fiercely. "Oh, i-oiiie now!" he isald. laughing softly. "They wi re ridiculous, you know cheap and absurd, with their would-be Bohemian airs. Y'ou saw It, too; I read it in your face." "Well. I was their guest." I protested with beat. "Yes," he agreed, "and that brlugs us back to the original question. YYhy do you go with such people?" "Because I am lonely." 1 defended angrily, "and they are the only people I know." I regretted the words the moment I had spoken He was silent for a while and then said: "Y'ou are a wise little one to know the reason why, and that is Just the reason. I dare say. It Is the loneliness that drives us to do many things. Little Wise One. It is because of the loneliness that 1 nm here now talking to you." His voice caressed as the sea caresses with the power to hurt withheld. What did the loueliness mean fot him? Evidently not a lack of means. My woman's intuition prompted: "There was some woman, perhaps, from whom he was separated " A swift, fierce sensation swept me that made me acutely unhnppy. It was gone in a moment, but It had left me startled. Surely I was not Jealous? Of whom? Because of what? About a slrange man whom I should probably never see again, I demanded angrily of myself. What an absurdity! I was a little ufraid. 'it Is growing late. I shall have to be starting home now." I said, turning toward Fifth avenue. "Yes," he agreed cheerfully, "It Is ft Jong way to No...". West Thirty-first street." "How do you know where 1 live?" I demanded. "Well, you see," he replied slowly, "perhaps you remember I hat night when you were returning from Mouquiu's, Just as you had reached your hoarding house n tnxicab slowed up alongside the curb so that the man inside could light his cigarette, you see. I was that man, and I er just chanced to notice the. number. As I was saying. It is a long way to Thlrty-liiNt Thlrty-liiNt street. So we had better Hud a cab." "Now," I thought, "It Is time to put a stop to this." "I am going to catch the Fifth avenue stage," I remarked with unmistakable emphasis. "What a lark!" he cried, with apparently unfeigned delight. "And we'll ride on top!" I could not help but smile. It was loo absurd. Then his face sobered "I sav, Utile Wise One, be reasonable. The lone-, line Is to blame If you go home by yourself you will have to face it and so will I. Come on to Mouquiu's Mou-quiu's and let's have a bite to oil and we'll listen to the music. Then we'll go lelow stairs and have our liqueur and listen to more music. Then you never will go to Mouquiu's ever again without thinking of mc. Come on!' I'm better than the loneliness." I thought of the boarding house. Tho musty, dim-ill dim-ill slairs aud the liny cubbyhole at the top that wns mv bedroom. It would be dark and silent. There would be no music there, and oh! I knew how the loneliness would mock me. That fearful loneliness that I was beginning to dread. This was a stolen day. It should be sw eet on to I he cud. To-rnorrow' witrltt dawn cruel and c-xoctlnir. At Twenty-eighth street we alighted and walked across to Mouquln's. We were early, so a table was easlh procured, not loo far from the music, not too near. An air of utter well being possessed me. Ouly I wished that I had been beautifully dressed like some of the women. But he paid no attention to them whatever, only to inc. He ordered cocktail". 1 dN imt drink much of i ' because I had not had anything any-thing to eat for hours. He did not urge me. I do not remember really eating, though, of course. I did, but it was more the atmosphere of the place that I drauk lu the sense of real companionship. I had not realized how I had hungered for it. The music was more potent than the wine H set my blood to dancing. And thnt most subtle of Intoxications the power to charm was mine and I was exerting It. We dallied over our meal with many ilght jests and much laughter. By common umqioken consent we hnd agreed to put aside all curiosity concerning whit we did not know of each other. When the menl was finished we sat listening to !1k music. I told him a funny story and he had been laughing, when, with one of those swift transitions of mood that made him so inexplicable, he said, speaking seriously: "This lime to-morrow night I shall be far out at sen." "At sea?" I echoed blankly. "Yes," he replied, "I leave for India to-morrow morning." The waiter put beside him tho tray with his change. Mechanically I watched him gafber up all but a five dollar bill. "It Is the last evening, Jacques," ho said, "for sura time." Jacques' eyebrows went up lu surprise. "Monsieur goes? I will be sorry not to serve Monsieur." Mon-sieur." "Monsieur" leaned toward ine. "Shall we go below stairs for our liqueur? The woman sings there at this hour." We descended the narrow stairs and came into tin room where I hnd first seen him. Tbe table in the corner that he had then occupied was held in reserve. We look it. The waiter, without insiructioii, placed before him a box uf cigarettes, lie ordered liqueur and the waiter departed. I watched those slim white hands remove the cigarettes from the box and place them lu his own plain gold case. One of the musicians, a woman, sang. Her voice was hnunllogly sweet: "Pale, hands I loved beside the Shaliuiar, Y bete are you now?" The words of the song stung my brain and fell like sparks upon my heart. As on that first night 1 raised my eyes from his bauds to find his gaze upon my face. I flushed hotly. All my body shook with a strange four. What had he read of my thought? .What had been my thought? I was not quite sure. "Why did you -think my hands cruel that first night when you looked at them?" ho nuked, and luughcd. ".What is to become of you. Little AVlse |