tales of trail and town-第24章

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of　middle　age；　with　the　unmistakable　bearing　of　long　years　of

recognized　and　unchallenged　position；however；　exhibited　on　this

occasion　that　slight　consciousness　of　weakness　and　susceptibility

to　ridicule　which　is　apt　to　indicate　the　invasion　of　the　tender

passion　in　the　heart　of　the　average　Briton。　　His　duty　as　host

towards　the　elder　woman　of　superior　rank；　however；　covered　his

embarrassment；　and　for　a　moment　left　Helen　quite　undisturbed　to

gaze　again　upon　the　treasures　of　the　long　drawing…room　of　Moreland

Hall　with　which　she　was　already　familiar。　　There　were　the　half…

dozen　old　masters；　whose　respectability　had　been　as　recognized

through　centuries　as　their　owner's　ancestors；　there　were　the

ancestors　themselves；wigged；　ruffled；　and　white…handed；　by

Vandyke；　Lely；　Romney；　and　Gainsborough；　there　were　the　uniform；

expressionless　ancestresses　in　stiff　brocade　or　short…waisted；

clinging　draperies；　but　all　possessing　that　brilliant　coloring

which　the　gray　skies　outside　lacked；　and　which　seemed　to　have

departed　from　the　dresses　of　their　descendants。　　The　American　girl

had　sometimes　speculated　upon　what　might　have　been　the　appearance

of　the　lime…tree　walk；　dotted　with　these　gayly　plumaged　folk；　and

wondered　if　the　tyranny　of　environment　had　at　last　subdued　their

brilliant　colors。　　And　a　new　feeling　touched　her。　　Like　most　of　her

countrywomen；　she　was　strongly　affected　by　the　furniture　of　life；

the　thought　that　all　that　she　saw　there　MIGHT　BE　HERS；　that　she

might　yet　stand　in　succession　to　these　strange　courtiers　and

stranger　shepherdesses；　and；　like　them；　look　down　from　the　canvas

upon　the　intruding　foreigner；　thrilled　her　for　a　moment　with　a

half…proud；　half…passive　sense　of　yielding　to　what　seemed　to　be　her

fate。　　A　narrow…eyed；　stiff…haired　Dutch　maid　of　honor　before　whom

she　was　standing　gazed　at　her　with　staring　vacancy。　　Suddenly　she

started。　　Before　the　portrait　upon　a　fanciful　easel　stood　a　small

elaborately　framed　sketch　in　oils。　　It　was　evidently　some　recently

imported　treasure。　　She　had　not　seen　it　before。　　As　she　moved

quickly　forward；　she　recognized　at　a　glance　that　it　was　Ostrander's

sketch　from　the　Paris　grenier。



The　wall；　the　room；　the　park　beyond；　even　the　gray　sky；　seemed　to

fade　away　before　her。　　She　was　standing　once　more　at　her　attic

window　looking　across　the　roofs　and　chimney　stacks　upward　to　the

blue　sky　of　Paris。　　Through　a　gap　in　the　roofs　she　could　see　the

chestnut…trees　trilling　in　the　little　square；　she　could　hear　the

swallows　twittering　in　the　leaden　troughs　of　the　gutter　before　her；

the　call　of　the　chocolate　vender　or　the　cry　of　a　gamin　floated　up

to　her　from　the　street　below；　or　the　latest　song　of　the　cafe

chantant　was　whistled　by　the　blue…bloused　workman　on　the

scaffolding　hard　by。　　The　breath　of　Paris；　of　youth；　of　blended

work　and　play；　of　ambition；　of　joyous　freedom；　again　filled　her　and

mingled　with　the　scent　of　the　mignonette　that　used　to　stand　on　the

old　window…ledge。



〃I　am　glad　you　like　it。　　I　have　only　just　put　it　up。〃



It　was　the　voice　of　Sir　Jamesa　voice　that　had　regained　a　little

of　its　naturalnessa　calm；　even　lazy　English　voiceconfident　from

the　experience　of　years　of　respectful　listeners。　　Yet　it　somehow

jarred　upon　her　nerves　with　its　complacency　and　its　utter

incongruousness　to　her　feelings。　　Nevertheless；　the　impulse　to　know

more　about　the　sketch　was　the　stronger。



〃Do　you　mean　you　have　just　bought　it？〃　asked　Helen。　　〃It's　not

English？〃



〃No；〃　said　Sir　James；　gratified　with　his　companion's　interest。　　〃I

bought　it　in　Paris　just　after　the　Commune。〃



〃From　the　artist？〃　continued　Helen；　in　a　slightly　constrained

voice。



〃No；〃　said　Sir　James；　〃although　I　knew　the　poor　chap　well　enough。

You　can　easily　see　that　he　was　once　a　painter　of　great　promise。　　I

rather　think　it　was　stolen　from　him　while　he　was　in　hospital　by

those　incendiary　wretches。　　I　recognized　it；　however；　and　bought

for　a　few　francs　from　them　what　I　would　have　paid　HIM　a　thousand

for。〃



〃In　hospital？〃　repeated　Helen　dazedly。



〃Yes；〃　said　Sir　James。　　〃The　fact　is　it　was　the　ending　of　the　usual

Bohemian　artist's　life。　　Though　in　this　case　the　man　was　a　real

artist；and　I　believe；　by　the　way；　was　a　countryman　of　yours。〃



〃In　hospital？〃　again　repeated　Helen。　　〃Then　he　was　poor？〃



〃Reckless；　I　should　rather　say；　he　threw　himself　into　the　fighting

before　Paris　and　was　badly　wounded。　　But　it　was　all　the　result　of

the　usual　love　affairthe　girl；　they　say；　ran　off　with　the　usual

richer　man。　　At　all　events；　it　ruined　him　for　painting；　he　never

did　anything　worth　having　afterwards。〃



〃And　now？〃　said　Helen　in　the　same　unmoved　voice。



Sir　James　shrugged　his　shoulders。　　〃He　disappeared。　　Probably　he'll

turn　up　some　day　on　the　London　pavementwith　chalks。　　That　sketch；

by　the　way；　was　one　that　had　always　attracted　me　to　his　studio

though　he　never　would　part　with　it。　　I　rather　fancy；　don't　you

know；　that　the　girl　had　something　to　do　with　it。　　It's　a

wonderfully　realistic　sketch；　don't　you　see；　and　I　shouldn't　wonder

if　it　was　the　girl　herself　who　lived　behind　one　of　those　queer

little　windows　in　the　roof　there。〃



〃She　did　live　there；〃　said　Helen　in　a　low　voice。



Sir　James　uttered　a　vague　laugh。　　Helen　looked　around　her。　　The

duchess　had　quietly　and　unostentatiously　passed　into　the　library；

and　in　full　view；　though　out　of　hearing；　was　examining；　with　her

glass　to　her　eye；　some　books　upon　the　shelves。



〃I　mean；〃　said　Helen；　in　a　perfectly　clear　voice；　〃that　the　young

girl　did　NOT　run　away　from　the　painter；　and　that　he　had　neither　the

right　nor　the　cause　to　believe　her　faithless　or　attribute　his

misfortunes　to　her。〃　　She　hesitated；　not　from　any　sense　of　her

indiscretion；　but　to　recover　from　a　momentary　doubt　if　the　girl

were　really　her　own　selfbut　only　for　a　moment。



〃Then　you　knew　the　painter；　as　I　did？〃　he　said　in　astonishment。



〃Not　as　YOU　did；〃　responded　Helen。　　She　drew　nearer　the　picture；

and；　pointing　a　slim　finger　to　the　canvas；　said：



〃Do　you　see　that　small　window　with　the　mignonette？〃



〃Perfectly。〃



〃That　was　MY　room。　　His　was　opposite。　　He　told　me　so　when　I　first

saw　the　sketch。　　I　am　the　girl　you　speak　of；　for　he　knew　no　other；

and　I　believe　him　to　have　been　a　truthful；　honorable　man。〃



〃But　what　were　you　doing　there？　　Surely　you　are　joking？〃　said　Sir

James；　with　a　forced　smile。



〃I　was　a　poor　pupil　at　the　Conservatoire；　and　lived　where　I　could

afford　to　live。〃



〃Alone？〃



〃Alone。〃



〃And　the　man　was〃



〃Major　Ostrander　was　my　friend。　　I　even　think　I　have　a　better　right

to　call　him　that　than　you　had。〃



Sir　James　coughed　slightly　and　grasped　the　lapel　of　his　coat。　　〃Of

course；　I　dare　say；　I　had　no　idea　of　this；　don't　you　know；　when　I

spoke。〃　　He　looked　around　him　as　if　to　evade　a　scene。　　〃Ah！　suppose

we　ask　the　duchess　to　look　at　the　sketch；　I　don't　think　she's　seen

it。〃　　He　began　to　move　in　the　direction　of　the　library。



〃She　had　better　wait；〃　said　Helen　quietly。



〃For　what？〃



〃Until〃hesitated　Helen　smilingly。



〃Until？　　I　am　afraid　I　don't　understand；〃　said　Sir　James　stiffly；

coloring　with　a　slight　suspicion。



〃Until　you　have　APOLOGIZED。〃



〃Of　course；〃　said　Sir　James；　with　a　half…hysteric　laugh。　　〃I　do。

You　understand　I　only　repeated　a　story　that　was　told　me；　and　had　no

idea　of　connecting　YOU　with　it。　　I　beg　your　pardon；　I'm　sure。　　I

ererin　fact；〃　he　added　suddenly；　the　embarrassed　smile　fading

from　his　face　as　he　looked　at　her　fixedly；　〃I　remember　now　it　must

have　been　the　concierge　of　the　house；　or　the　opposite　one；　who　told

me。　　He　said　it　was　a　Russian　who　carried　off　that　young　girl。　　Of

course　it　was　some　made…up　story。〃



〃I　left　Paris　with　the　duchess；〃　said　Helen　quietly；　〃before　the

war。〃



〃Of　course。　　And　she　knows　all　about　your　friendship　with　this

man。〃



〃I　don't　think　she　does。　　I　haven't　told　her。　　Why　should　I？〃

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