“Miss Eure, my friend Max Erdmann yearned to be made happy by a five minutes audience, and I ventured to bring him without sending an avant courier to prepare the wav. Am I forgiven?” with which half daring, half apologetic introduction, Louis turned to the chaperone and began to rattle.
Miss Eure bowed, swept the waves of silk from the chair beside her, and I sat down with a bold request waiting at my lips till an auspicious moment came, having resolved not to exert myself for nothing. As we discussed the usual topics suggested by the time and place, I looked often into the face before me and soon found it difficult to look away again, for it was a constant surprise to me. The absent mood had passed and with it the frost seemed to have melted from mien and manner, leaving a living woman in the statue’s place. I had thought her melancholy, but her lips were dressed in smiles, and frequent peals of low'-toned laughter parted them like pleasant music; I had thought her pale, but in either cheek now bloomed a color deep and clear as any tint my palette could have given; I had thought her shy and proud at first, but with each moment her manner warmed, her speech grew franker and her whole figure seemed to glow' and brighten as if a brilliant lamp were lit behind the pale shade she had w orn before. But the eyes were the greatest surprise of all — I had fancied them dark, and found them the light, sensitive gray belonging to highly nervous temperaments. They were remarkable eyes; for though softly fringed with shadowy lashes they were not mild, but fiery and keen, w'ith many lights and shadow's in them as the pupils dilated, and the irids shone with a transparent lustre w'hich varied with her varying w'ords, and proved the existence of an ardent, imperious nature underneath the seeming snow.
They exercised a curious fascination over me and kept my ow'n obedient to their will, although scarce conscious of it at the time and believing mine to be the controlling pow'er. Wherein the charm lay I cannot tell; it was not the influence of a womanly presence alone, for fairer faces had smiled at me in vain; vet as I sat there I felt a pleasant quietude creep over me, I knew my voice had fallen to a lower key, my eye softened from its wonted cold indifference, my manner grown smooth and my demeanor changed to one almost as courtly as my friend’s, who well deserved his soubriquet of “Louis the Debonnair.”
“It is because my long fret is over,” I thought, and having something to gain, exerted myself to please so successfully that, soon emboldened by her gracious mood and the flattering compliments bestowed upon my earlier works, I ventured to tell mv present strait and the daring hope I had conceived that she would help me through it. How I made this blunt request I cannot tell, but remember that it slipped over my tongue as smoothly as if I had meditated upon it for a week. I glanced over my shoulder as I spoke, fearing Louis might mar all with apology or-reproof; but he was absorbed in the comely duenna, who was blushing like a girl at the half playful, half serious devotion he paid all womankind; and reassured, I waited, wondering how Miss Eure would receive my request. Very quietly; for with no change but a peculiar dropping of the lids, as if her eyes sometimes played the traitor to her will, she answered, smilingly,
“It is I who receive the honor, sir, not you, for genius possesses the privileges of royalty, and may claim subjects everywhere, sure that its choice ennobles and its power extends beyond the narrow bounds of custom, time and place. When shall I serve you, Mr. Erdmann?”
At any other time I should have felt surprised both at her and at myself; but just then, in the ardor of the propitious moment, I thought only of my w7ork, and w'ith many thanks for her great kindness left the day to her, secretly hoping she would name an early one. She sat silent an instant, then seemed to come to some determination, for w hen she spoke a shadow of mingled pain and patience swept across her face as if her resolve had cost her some sacrifice of pride or feeling.
“It is but right to tell'you that I may not always have it in my power to give you the expression you desire to cateh, for the eyes you honor by wishing to perpetuate are not strong and often fail me for a time. I have been utterly blind once and may be again, yet have no present cause to fear it, and if you can come to me on such days as they will serve your purpose, I shall be most glad to do my best for you. Another reason makes me bold to ask this favor of you, I cannot always summon this absent mood, and should certainly fail in a strange place; but in my own home, with all familiar things about me, I can more easily fall into one of my deep reveries and forget time by the hour together. Will this arrangement cause much inconvenience or delay? A room shall be prepared for you — kept inviolate as long as you desire it — and every facility my house affords is at your service, for I feel much interest in the work which is to add another success to your life.”
She spoke regretfully at first, but ended with a cordial glance as if she had forgotten herself in giving pleasure to another. I felt that it must have cost her an effort to confess that such a dire affliction had ever darkened her youth and might still return to sadden her prime; this pity mingled with my expressions of gratitude for the unexpected interest she bestowed upon my work, and in a few words the arrangement was made, the day and hour fixed, and a great load off my mind. What the afterpiece was I never knew; Miss Eure stayed to please her young companion, Louis stayed to please himself, and I remained because I had not energy enough to go away. For, leaning where I first sat down, 1 still looked and listened with a dreamy sort of satisfaction to Miss Eure’s low voice, as with downcast eyes, still shaded by her fan, she spoke enthusiastically and well of art (the one interesting theme to me) in a manner which proved that she had read and studied more than her modesty allowed her to acknowledge.
We parted like old friends at her carriage door, and as I walked away with Louis in the cool night air I felt like one who had been asleep in a close room, for I was both languid and drowsy, though a curious undercurrent'of excitement still stirred my blood and tingled along my nerves. “A theatre is no place for me,” I decided, and anxious to forget myself said aloud:
“ Fell me all you know about that woman.”
“What woman, Max?”
“M iss Agatha Eure, the ow ner of the eyes.”
“Aha! smitten at last! That ever I should live to see our Benedict the victim of love at first sight!”
“Have done with your nonsense, and answer mv question. 1 don’t ask from mere curiosity, but that I may have some idea howto bear myself at these promised sittings; for it will never do to ask after her papa if she has none, to pay mv respects to the old ladv as her mother if she is only the duenna, or joke with the lad if he is the heir apparent.”
“Do you mean to sav that you asked her to sit to you?” cried Louis, falling back a step and staring at me with undisguised astonishment.
“Yes, whv not?”
“Why-, man, Agatha Eure is the haughtiest piece of humanity ever concocted; and 1, with all mv daring, never ventured to ask more than an occasional dance with her, and feel myself especially favored that she deigns to bow to me, and lets me pick up her gloves or carry her bouquet as a mark of supreme condescension. What witchcraft did you bring to bear upon her? and how did she grant your audacious request?”
“Agreed to it at once.”
“Like an empress conferring knighthood, I fancy.”
“Not at all. More like a pretty woman receiving a compliment to her beauty — though she is not pretty, bv the way.”
Louis indulged himself in the long, low whistle, which seems the only adequate expression for masculine surprise. I enjoyed his amazement, it was mv turn to laugh now, and I did so, as I said: ‘Aou are always railing at me for my avoidance of all womankind, but you see I have not lost the art of pleasing, for I won your haughty Agatha to mv will in fifteen minutes, and am not onlv to paint her handsome eves, but to do it at her own house, by her own request. I am beginning to find that, after years of effort, I have mounted a few more rounds of the social ladder than I was aware of, and may now confer as well as receive favors; for she seemed to think me the benefactor, and I rather enjoyed the novelty
of the thing. Now tell your story of ‘the haughtiest piece of humanity’ ever known. I like her the betcer for that trait.”
Louis nodded his head, and regarded the moon with an aspect of immense wisdom, as he replied:
“I understand it now; it all comes back to me, and my accusation holds good, only the love at first sight is on the other side. You shall have your story, but it may leave the picture in the lurch if it causes you to fly off, as you usually see fit to do when a woman’s name is linked with your own. You never saw Miss Eure before; but what you say reminds me that she has seen you, for one day last autumn, as I was driving with her and old madame — a mark of uncommon favor, mind you — we saw you striding along, with your hat over your eyes, looking very much like a comet streaming down the street. It was crowded, and as you waited at the crossing you spoke to Jack Mellot, and while talking pulled off your hat and tumbled your hair about, in your usual fashion, when very earnest. We were blockaded by cars and coaches for a moment, so Miss Eure had a fine opportunity to feast her eyes upon you, ‘though you are not pretty, by the way.’ She asked your name, and when I told her she gushed out into a charming little stream of interest in your daubs, and her delight at seeing their creator; all of which was not agreeable to me, for I considered myself much the finer work of art of the two. Just then you caught up a shabby child with a big basket, took them across, under our horses’ noses, with never a word for me, though I called to you, and, diving into the crowd, disappeared. ‘I like that,’ said Miss Eure; and as we drove on she asked questions, which I answered in a truly Christian manner, doing you no harm, old lad; for I told all you had fought through, with the courage of a stout-hearted man, all you had borne with the patience of a woman, and what a grand future lay open to you, if you chose to accept and use it, making quite a fascinating little romance of it, I assure you. There the matter dropped. I forgot it till this minute, but it accounts for the ease with which you gained your first suit, and is prophetic of like success in a second and more serious one. She is young, well-born, lovely to those who love her, and has a fortune and position which will lift you at once to the topmost round of the long ladder you’ve been climbing all these years. I wish you joy, Max.”
“Thank you. I’ve no time for lovemaking, and want no fortune but that which I earn for myself. I am alreadv married to a fairer wife than Miss Eure, so you may win and wear the lofty lady yourself.”
Louis gave a comical groan.
“I’ve tried that, and failed; for she is too cold to be warmed by any flame of mine, though she is wonderfully attractive when she likes, and I hover about her even now like an infatuated moth, who beats his head against the glass and never reaches the light within. No; you must thankfully accept the good the gods bestow. Let Art be your Leah, but Agatha your Rachel. And so, good-night!” “Stay and tell me one thing — is she an orphan?”
“Yes; the last of a fine old race, with few relatives and few friends, for death has deprived her of the first, and her own choice of the last. The ladv you saw with her plays propriety in her establishment; the lad is Mrs. Snow’s son, and fills the role of cavaJiere- servente; for Miss Eure is a Diana toward men in general, and leads a quietly luxurious life among her books, pencils and music, reading and studying all manner of things few women of two-and- twenty care to know. But she has the wit to see that a woman’s mission is to be charming, and when she has sufficient motive for the exertion she fulfils that mission most successfully, as I know to my sorrow. Now let me off, and be for ever grateful for the good turn I have done you to-night, both in urging you to go to the theatre and helping vou to your wish when you got there.”
We parted merrily, but his words lingered in my memory, and half unconsciously exerted a new influence over me, for they flattered the three ruling passions that make or mar the fortunes of us all — pride, ambition and self-love. I wanted power, fame and ease, and all seemed waiting for me, not in the dim future but the actual present, if my friend’s belief was to be relied upon; and remembering all I had seen and heard that night, I felt that it was not utterly without foundation. I pleased myself for an idle hour in dreaming dreams of what might be; finding that amusement began to grow dangerously attractive, I demolished my castles in the air with the last whiff of my meerschaum, and fell asleep, echoing my own words:
“Art is my wife, I will have no other!”
Punctual to the moment I went to my appointment, and while waiting an answer to my ring took an exterior survey of Miss Eure’s house. One of an imposing granite block, it stood in a West End square, with every sign of unostentatious opulence about it. I was very susceptible to all influences, either painful or pleasant, and as I stood there the bland atmosphere that surrounded me seemed most attractive; for my solitary life had been plain and poor, with little time for ease, and few ornaments to give it grace. Now I seemed to have won the right to enjoy both if 1 would; I no longer felt out of place there, and with this feeling came the wish to try the sunny side of life, and see if its genial gifts would prove more inspiring than the sterner masters I had been serving so long.
The door opened in the middle of my reverie, and I was led through an anteroom, lined with warmhued pictures, to a large apartment, which had been converted into an impromptu studio by some one who understood all the requisites for such a place. The picture, my easel and other necessaries had preceded me, and I thought to have spent a good hour in arranging matters. All was done, however, with a skill that surprised me; the shaded windows, the carefully-arranged brushes, the proper colors already on the palette, the easel and picture placed as they should be, and a deep curtain hung behind a small dais, where I fancied my model was to sit. The room was empty as I entered, and with the brief message, “Miss Eure will be down directly,” the man noiselessly departed.
I stood and looked about me with great satisfaction, thinking, “I cannot fail to work well surrounded by such agreeable sights and sounds.” The house was very still, for the turmoil of the city was subdued to a murmur, like the far-off music of the sea; a soft gloom filled the room, divided by one strong ray that fell athwart my picture, gifting it with warmth and light. Through a half-open door I saw the green vista of a conservatory, full of fine blendings of color, and wafts of many odors blown to me by the west wind rustling through orange trees and slender palms; while the only sound that broke the silence was the voice of a flame-colored foreign bird, singing a plaintive little strain like a sorrowful lament. I liked this scene, and, standing in the doorway, was content to look, listen and enjoy, forgetful of time, till a slight stir made me turn and for a moment look straight before me w ith a startled aspect. It seemed as if my picture had left its frame; for, standing on the narrow dais, clearly defined against the dark background, stood the living likeness of the figure I had painted, the same white folds falling from neck to ankle, the same shadowy hair, and slender hands locked together, as if wrung in slow despair; and fixed full upon my own the weird, unseeing eyes, w hich made the face a pale mask, through which the haunted spirit spoke eloquently, with its sleepless anguish and remorse.
“Good morning, Miss Eure; how shall I thank you?” I began, but stopped abruptly, for without speaking she waved me towards the easel w ith a gesture which seemed to say, “Prove your gratitude by industry.”
“Very good,” thought I, “if she likes the theatrical style she shall have it. It is evident she has studied her part and will play it well, 1 will do the same, and as Louis recommends, take the good the gods send me w hile I may.”
Without more ado I took my place and tell to work; but, though never more eager to get on, with each moment that I passed I found my interest in the picture grow less and less intent, and with every glance at my model found that it w as more and more difficult to look away. Beautiful she was not, but the wild and woful figure seemed to attract me as no Hebe, Venus or sw eet-laced Psyche had ever done. My hand moved slower and slower, the painted lace grew dimmer and dimmer, my glances lingered longer an
d longer, and presently palette and brushes rested on my knee, as 1 leaned back in the deep chair and gave myself up to an uninterrupted stare. I knew that it was rude, knew that it was a trespass on Miss Eure’s kindness as well as a breach of good manners, but I could not help it, for my eyes seemed beyond my control, and though I momentarily expected to see her color rise and hear some warning of the lapse of time, 1 never looked away, and soon forgot to imagine her feelings in the mysterious confusion of my own.
I was first conscious of a terrible fear that I ought to speak or move, which seemed impossible, for my eyelids began to be weighed down by a delicious drowsiness in spite of all my efforts to keep them open. Everything grew misty, and the beating of my heart sounded like the rapid, irregular roll of a muffled drum; then a strange weight seemed to oppress and cause me to sigh long and deeply. But soon the act of breathing appeared to grow unnecessary, for a sensation of wonderful airiness came over me, and I felt as if I could float away like a thistledown. Presently every sense seemed to fall asleep, and in the act of dropping both palette and brush I drifted away, into a sea of blissful repose, where nothing disturbed me but a fragmentary dream that came and went like a lingering gleam of consciousness through the new experience which had befallen me.
I seemed to be still in the quiet room, still leaning in the deep chair with half-closed eyes, still watching the white figure before me, but that had changed. I saw a smile break over the lips, something like triumph flash into the eyes, sudden color flush the cheeks, and the rigid hands lifted to gather up and put the long hair back; then with noiseless steps it came nearer and nearer till it stood beside me. For awhile it paused there mute and intent, I felt the eager gaze searching my face, but it caused no displeasure; for I seemed to be looking down at myself, as if soul and body had parted company and I was gifted with a double life. Suddenly the vision laid a light hand on my wrist and touched my temples, while a shade of anxiety seemed to flit across its face as it turned and vanished. A dreamy wonder regarding its return woke within me, then my sleep deepened into utter oblivion, for how long I cannot tell. A pungent odor seemed to recall me to the same half wakeful state. I dimly saw a womans arm holding a glittering object before me, when the fragrance came; an unseen hand stirred my hair with the grateful drip of water, and once there came a touch like the pressure of lips upon my forehead, soft and warm, but gone in an instant. These new sensations grew rapidly more and more defined; I clearly saw a bracelet on the arm and read the Arabic characters engraved upon the golden coins that formed it; I heard the rustle of garments, the hurried breathing of some near presence, and felt the cool sweep of a hand passing to and fro across my forehead. At this point my thoughts began to shape themselves into words, which came slowly and seemed strange to me as I searched for and connected them, then a heavy sigh rose and broke at my lips, and the sound of my own voice woke me, drowsily echoing the last words I had spoken:
Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 20 Page 5