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tales of trail and town-第17部分
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〃I am glad you think so well of it; for I do not mean to sell it;〃
he said simply; yet with a significance that kept her silent。
She did not see him again for several days。 The preparation for
her examination left her no time; and her earnest concentration in
her work fully preoccupied her thoughts。 She was surprised; but
not disturbed; on the day of the awards to see him among the
audience of anxious parents and relations。 Miss Helen Maynard did
not get the first prize; nor yet the second; an accessit was her
only award。 She did not know until afterwards that this had long
been a foregone conclusion of her teachers on account of some
intrinsic defect in her voice。 She did not know until long
afterwards that the handsome painter's nervousness on that occasion
had attracted even the sympathy of some of those who were near him。
For she herself had been calm and collected。 No one else knew how
crushing was the blow which shattered her hopes and made her three
years of labor and privation a useless struggle。 Yet though no
longer a pupil she could still teach; her master had found her a
small patronage that saved her from destitution。 That night she
circled up quite cheerfully in her usual swallow flight to her nest
under the eaves; and even twittered on the landing a little over
the condolences of the conciergewho knew; mon Dieu! what a beast
the director of the Conservatoire was and how he could be bribed;
but when at last her brown head sank on her pillow she criedjust
a little。
But what was all this to that next morningthe glorious spring
morning which bathed all the roofs of Paris with warmth and hope;
rekindling enthusiasm and ambition in the breast of youth; and
gilding even much of the sordid dirt below。 It seemed quite
natural that she should meet Major Ostrander not many yards away as
she sallied out。 In that bright spring sunshine and the hopeful
spring of their youth they even laughed at the previous day's
disappointment。 Ah! what a claque it was; after all! For himself;
he; Ostrander; would much rather see that satin…faced Parisian girl
who had got the prize smirking at the critics from the boards of
the Grand Opera than his countrywoman! The Conservatoire settled
things for Paris; but Paris wasn't the world! America would come
to the fore yet in art of all kindsthere was a free academy there
nowthere should be a Conservatoire of its own。 Of course; Paris
schooling and Paris experience weren't to be despised in art; but;
thank heaven! she had THAT; and no directors could take it from
her! This and much more; until; comparing notes; they suddenly
found that they were both free for that day。 Why should they not
take advantage of that rare weather and rarer opportunity to make a
little suburban excursion? But where? There was the Bois; but
that was still Paris。 Fontainebleau? Too far; there were always
artists sketching in the forest; and he would like for that day to
〃sink the shop。〃 Versailles? Ah; yes! Versailles!
Thither they went。 It was not new to either of them。 Ostrander
knew it as an artist and as an American reader of that French
historic romancea reader who hurried over the sham intrigues of
the Oeil de Boeuf; the sham pastorals of the Petit Trianon; and the
sham heroics of a shifty court; to get to Lafayette。 Helen knew it
as a child who had dodged these lessons from her patriotic father;
but had enjoyed the woods; the parks; the terraces; and particularly
the restaurant at the park gates。 That day they took it like a boy
and girl;with the amused; omniscient tolerance of youth for a past
so inferior to the present。 Ostrander thought this gray…eyed;
independent American…French girl far superior to the obsequious
filles d'honneur; whose brocades had rustled through those
quinquonces; and Helen vaguely realized the truth of her fellow
pupil's mischievous criticism of her companion that day at the
Louvre。 Surely there was no classical statue here comparable to the
one…armed soldier…painter!
All this was as yet free from either sentiment or passion; and was
only the frank pride of friendship。 But; oddly enough; their mere
presence and companionship seemed to excite in others that
tenderness they had not yet felt themselves。 Family groups watched
the handsome pair in their innocent confidences; and; with French
exuberant recognition of sentiment; thought them the incarnation of
Love。 Something in their manifest equality of condition kept even
the vainest and most susceptible of spectators from attempted
rivalry or cynical interruption。 And when at last they dropped
side by side on a sun…warmed stone bench on the terrace; and Helen;
inclining her brown head towards her companion; informed him of the
difficulty she had experienced in getting gumbo soup; rice and
chicken; corn cakes; or any of her favorite home dishes in Paris;
an exhausted but gallant boulevardier rose from a contiguous bench;
and; politely lifting his hat to the handsome couple; turned slowly
away from what he believed were tender confidences he would not
permit himself to hear。
But the shadow of the trees began to lengthen; casting broad bars
across the alle; and the sun sank lower to the level of their eyes。
They were quite surprised; on looking around a few moments later;
to discover that the gardens were quite deserted; and Ostrander; on
consulting his watch; found that they had just lost a train which
the other pleasure…seekers had evidently availed themselves of。 No
matter; there was another train an hour later; they could still
linger for a few moments in the brief sunset and then dine at the
local restaurant before they left。 They both laughed at their
forgetfulness; and then; without knowing why; suddenly lapsed into
silence。 A faint wind blew in their faces and trilled the thin
leaves above their heads。 Nothing else moved。 The long windows of
the palace in that sunset light seemed to glisten again with the
incendiary fires of the Revolution; and then went out blankly and
abruptly。 The two companions felt that they possessed the terrace
and all its memories as completely as the shadows who had lived and
died there。
〃I am so glad we have had this day together;〃 said the painter;
with a very conscious breaking of the silence; 〃for I am leaving
Paris to…morrow。〃
Helen raised her eyes quickly to his。
〃For a few days only;〃 he continued。 〃My Russian customers
perhaps I ought to say my patronshave given me a commission to
make a study of an old chateau which the princess lately bought。〃
A swift recollection of her fellow pupil's raillery regarding the
princess's possible attitude towards the painter came over her and
gave a strange artificiality to her response。
〃I suppose you will enjoy it very much;〃 she said dryly。
〃No;〃 he returned with the frankness that she had lacked。 〃I'd
much rather stay in Paris; but;〃 he added with a faint smile; 〃it's
a question of money; and that is not to be despised。 Yet II
somehow feel that I am deserting you;leaving you here all alone
in Paris。〃
〃I've been all alone for four years;〃 she said; with a bitterness
she had never felt before; 〃and I suppose I'm accustomed to it。〃
Nevertheless she leaned a little forward; with her fawn…colored
lashes dropped over her eyes; which were bent upon the ground and
the point of the parasol she was holding with her little gloved
hands between her knees。 He wondered why she did not look up; he
did not know that it was partly because there were tears in her
eyes and partly for another reason。 As she had leaned forward his
arm had quite unconsciously moved along the back of the bench where
her shoulders had rested; and she could not have resumed her
position except in his half embrace。
He had not thought of it。 He was lost in a greater abstraction。
That infinite tenderness;far above a woman's;the tenderness of
strength and manliness towards weakness and delicacy; the
tenderness that looks down and not up; was already possessing him。
An instinct of protection drew him nearer this bowed but charming
figure; and if he then noticed that the shoulders were pretty; and
the curves of the slim waist symmetrical; it was rather with a
feeling of timidity and a half…consciousness of unchivalrous
thought。 Yet why should he not try to keep the brave and honest
girl near him always? Why should he not claim the right to protect
her? Why should they notthey who were alone in a strange land
join their two lonely lives for mutual help and happiness?
A sudden perception of delicacy; the thought that he should have
spoken before her failure at the Conservatoire had made her feel
her helplessness; brought a slight color to his cheek。 Would it
not seem to her that he was taking an unfair advantage of her
misfortune? Yet it would be so easy now to slip a loving arm
around her waist; while he could work for her and protect her with
the other。 THE OTHER! His eye fell on his empty sleeve。 Ah; he
had forgotten that! He had but ONE arm!
He rose up abruptly;so abruptly that Helen; rising too; almost
touched the arm that was hurriedly withdrawn。 Yet in that
accidental contact; which sent a vague tremor through the young
girl's frame; there was still time for him to have spoken。 But he
only said:
〃Perhaps we had better dine。〃
She assented quickly;she knew not why;with a feeling of relief。
They walked very quietly and slowly towards the restaurant。 Not a
word of love had been spoken; not even a glance of understanding
had passed between them。 Yet they both knew by some mysterious
instinct that a crisis of their lives had come and gone; and that
they never again could be to each other as they were but a brief
moment ago。 They talked very sensibly and gravely during their
frugal meal; the previous spectator of their confidences would
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