Barriers Burned Away Part 33

"To what art or _trade_ did Mr. Fleet refer?" asked Mr. Mellen, with an insinuation that all understood.

"One that you do not understand," said Christine, keenly.

The petted and spoiled millionaire flushed angrily a moment, and then said with a bow: "You are right, Miss Ludolph. Mr. Fleet is acquainted with one or two arts that I have never had the pleasure of learning."

"He has at least learned the art of being a gentleman," was the sharp retort.

The young man's face grew darker, and he said, "From the _sweeping_ nature of your remarks, I perceive that Mr. Fleet is high in your favor."

"A poor pun made in poorer taste," was all the comfort he got from Christine.

Dennis was naturally of a very jealous disposition where his affections were concerned. His own love took such entire possession of him that he could not brook the interference of others, or sensibly consider that they had the same privilege to woo, and win if possible, that he had. Especially distasteful to him was this rich and favored youth, whose presence awakened all his combativeness, which was by no means small.

Mr. Mellen's most inopportune interruption and covert taunts provoked him beyond endurance. His face was fairly white with rage, and for a moment he felt that he could stamp his rival out of existence. In the low, concentrated voice of pa.s.sion he said, "If Mr. Mellen should lose his property, as many do, I gather from his remarks that he would still keep up his idea of a gentleman on charity."

Mr. Mellen flushed to the roots of his hair, his hands clenched. In the flashing eyes and threatening faces of the young men those witnessing the scene foresaw trouble. A light hand fell on Dennis's arm, and Miss Winthrop said, "Mr. Fleet, I wish to show you a picture, and ask your judgment in regard to it."

Dennis understood the act, and in a moment more his face was crimson with shame.

"Miss Winthrop, you ought to send me home at once. I told you I was unfit for society. Somehow I am not myself. I humbly ask your pardon."

"So sincere a penitent shall receive absolution at once. You were greatly provoked. I trust you for the future."

"You may," was the emphatic answer. After that pledge Mr. Mellen might have struck him and received no more response than from a marble statue.

Mr. Mellen also took a sober second thought, remembering that he was in a lady's parlor. He walked away with his ears tingling, for the flattered youth had never had such an experience before. The few who witnessed the scene smiled significantly, as did Christine half contemptuously; but Miss Winthrop soon restored serenity, and the remaining hours pa.s.sed away in music and dancing. Christine did not speak to Dennis again--that is, by word of mouth--but she thought of him constantly, and their eyes often met;--on his part that same eager, questioning look. She ever turned hers at once away. But his words kept repeating themselves continually, especially his last sentence, when the unlucky Mr. Mellen had broken in upon them--"You can copy anything you see."

"How n.o.ble and expressive of varied feeling his face is!" she thought, watching it change under the playful badinage of Miss Winthrop.

"How I would like to copy it! Well, you can--'You can copy anything you see.'" Then like a flash came a suggestion--"You can make him love you, and copy feeling, pa.s.sion, life--from the _living_ face.

Whether I can believe or feel, myself, is very doubtful. This I can do: he himself said so. I cannot love, myself--I must not; I do not wish to now, but perhaps I can inspire love in him, and then make his face a study. As to my believing, he can never know how utterly impossible his faith is to me."

Then conscience entered a mild protest against the cruelty of the project. "Nonsense!" she said to herself; "most girls flirt for sport, and it is a pity if I cannot with such a purpose in view. He will soon get over a little puncture in his heart after I have sailed away to my bright future beyond the sea, and perhaps Susie will comfort him;"

and she smiled at the thought. Dennis saw the smile and was entranced by its loveliness. How little he guessed the cause!

Having resolved, Christine acted promptly. When their eyes again met, she gave him a slight smile. He caught it instantly and looked bewildered, as if he could not believe his eyes. Again, when a little later, at the urgent request of many, he sang alone for the first time, and again moved his hearers deeply by the real feeling in his tones, he turned from the applause of all, with that same questioning look, to her. She smiled an encouragement that she had never given him before.

The warm blood flooded his face instantly. All thought that it was the general chorus of praise. Christine knew that she had caused it, and surprise and almost exultation came into her face. "I half believe he loves me now," she said. She threw him a few more kindly smiles from time to time, as one might throw some glittering things to an eager child, and every moment a.s.sured her of her power.

"I will try one more test," she said, and by a little effort she lured to her side the offended Mr. Mellen, and appeared much pleased by his attention. Then unmistakably the pain of jealousy was stamped on Dennis's face, and she was satisfied. Shaking off the perplexed Mr.

Mellen again, she went to the recess of a window to hide her look of exultation.

"The poor victim loves me already," she said. "The mischief is done.

I have only to avail myself of what exists from no fault of mine, and surely I ought to; otherwise the pa.s.sion of the infatuated youth will be utterly wasted, and do no one any good."

Thus in a somewhat novel way Christine obtained a new master in painting, and poor Dennis and his love were put to use somewhat as a human subject might be if dissected alive.

CHAPTER x.x.x

THE TWO HEIGHTS

Dennis went home in a strange tumult of hopes and fears, but hope predominated, for evidently she cared little for Mr. Mellen. "The ice is broken at last," he said. It was, but he was like to fall through into a very cold bath, though he knew it not. He was far too excited to sleep, and sat by his open window till the warm June night grew pale with the light of coming day.

Suddenly a bright thought struck him; a moment more and it became an earnest purpose. "I think I can paint something that may express to her what I dare not put in words."

He immediately went up into the loft and prepared a large frame, so proportioned that two pictures could be painted side by side, one explanatory and an advance upon the other. He stretched his canvas over this, and sketched and outlined rapidly under the inspiration of his happy thought.

Christine came with her father to the store, as had been her former custom, and her face had its old expression. The listless, disappointed look was gone. She pa.s.sed on, not appearing to see him while with her father, and Dennis's heart sank again. "She surely knew where to look for me if she cared to look," he said to himself. Soon after he went to the upper show-room to see to the hanging of a new picture.

"I am so glad your taste, instead of old Schwartz's mathematics, has charge of this department now," said a honeyed voice at his side. He was startled greatly.

"What is the matter? Are you nervous, Mr. Fleet? I had no idea that a lady could so frighten you."

He was blushing like a girl, but said, "I have read that something within, rather than anything without, makes us cowards."

"Ah, then you confess to a guilty conscience?" she replied, with a twinkle in her eye.

"I do not think I shall confess at all till I have a merciful confessor," said Dennis, conscious of a deeper meaning than his light words might convey.

"'The quality of mercy is not strained,' therefore it is unfit for my use. I'll none of it, but for each offence impose unlimited penance."

"But suppose one must sin?"

"He must take the consequences then. Even your humane religion teaches that;" and with this parting arrow she vanished, leaving him too excited to hang his picture straight.

It all seemed a bewildering dream. Being so thoroughly taken by surprise and off his guard, he had said far more than he meant. But had she understood him? Yes, better than he had himself, and laughed at his answers with their covert meanings.

She spent the next two days in sketching and outlining his various expressions as far as possible from memory. She would learn to catch those evanescent lines--that something which makes the human face eloquent, though the lips are silent.

Dennis was in a maze, but he repeated to himself jubilantly again, "The ice is broken." That evening at Mr. Bruder's he asked for studies in ice.

"Vy, dat is out of season," said Mr. Bruder, with a laugh.

"No, now is just the time. It is a nice cool subject for this hot weather. Please oblige me; for certain reasons I wish to be able to paint ice perfectly."

Arctic scenery was Mr. Bruder's forte, on which he specially prided himself. He was too much of a gentleman to ask questions, and was delighted to find the old zest returning in his pupil. They were soon constructing bergs, caves, and grottoes of cold blue ice. Evening after evening, while sufficient light lasted, they worked at this study.

Dennis's whole soul seemed bent on the formation of ice. After a month of labor Mr. Bruder said, "I hope you vill get over dis by fall, or ve all freeze to death."

"One of these days I shall explain," said Dennis, smiling.

The evening of the second day after the little rencounter in the show-room, Mr. Ludolph sat enjoying his cigar, and Christine was at the piano playing a difficult piece of music.

"Come, father," she said, "here is a fine thing just from Germany.

There is a splendid tenor solo in it, and I want you to sing it for me."