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The extreme beauty of the picture and its exquisite finish fascinated Dennis, while the girl's face jarred upon his feelings like a musical discord. After gazing fixedly for a long time, he said, "What possessed the man to paint such a lovely face and make its expression only that of scorn, pride, and heartless merriment?"
All the long night the face haunted and troubled him. He saw it in his dreams. It had for him a strong interest that he could not understand--that strange fascination which a very beautiful thing that has been marred and wronged has for some natures. So powerful was this impression upon his sensitive nature that he caught himself saying, as of a living being, "Oh, that I could give to that face the expression G.o.d meant it to have!"
And then he laughed at his own folly. His watchfulness caused him to oversleep the next morning, and he was later than usual in getting through the routine duties of the store. At length, about nine o'clock, dusty and begrimed from mopping, feeding the furnace, etc., he stood with duster and brush in hand before the painting that had so disturbed his rest. He was in his s.h.i.+rt-sleeves, and in careful economy had a large coa.r.s.e ap.r.o.n of ticking girded about his person. His black, dishevelled locks looked like an inverted crow's nest, and altogether he was unpresentable, appearing more like the presiding divinity of a dust-heap than of an "Art Building."
After gazing a few moments on the scornful, beautiful face that might have obtained its haughty patrician lineaments from the old barons of the ruined castle just above, he seemed to grow conscious of this himself, and shrunk behind the picture half ashamed, as if the fair girl could see him.
While engaged in cleaning off some stains and marks upon the frame, he did not hear a light footstep in the room. Finis.h.i.+ng his task, he stepped out from behind the picture with the purpose of leaving the apartment, when a vision met his gaze which startled him to that degree that he dropped his brush and duster upon the floor, and stood transfixed. There before him, in flesh and blood it seemed, stood the lady of the picture--the same dress, the same beautiful blond face, and, above all, the same expression. He was made conscious of his absurd position by a suppressed t.i.tter from the clerks at the door, and a broad laugh from Mr. Ludolph. The beautiful face turned toward him for a moment, and he felt himself looked over from head to foot.
At first there was an expression of vexation at the interruption, and then, as if from the ludicrousness of his appearance, the old laughing, scornful look returned. Casting a quick, furtive glance at the picture, which seemed to satisfy him, Dennis, with hot cheeks, gathered up his tools and beat a hasty retreat. As he pa.s.sed out, Mr. Ludolph asked, good naturedly, "Why, Fleet, what is the matter?"
"Indeed, sir, I hardly know," answered the bewildered youth, "but it seems to me that I have lost my wits since that picture came. For a moment I thought that the lady on the canvas had stepped out upon the floor."
"Now that you speak of it," exclaimed Mr. Ludolph, advancing into the room, "there is a striking resemblance."
"Nonsense! father," Dennis heard the young lady say; "you are too old to flatter. As for that hare-brained youth of the dust-brush, he looked as if he might have the failing of poor Pat, and not always be able to see straight."
At this Dennis's cheeks grew hotter still, while a low laugh from one or two of the clerks near showed that they were enjoying his embarra.s.sment.
Dennis hastened away to his room, and it was well that he did not hear the conversation that followed.
"Oh, no!" responded Mr. Ludolph, "that is not Dennis's failing. He is a member of a church in 'good and regular standing.' He will be one of the 'pillars' by and by."
"You are always having a fling at superst.i.tion and the superst.i.tious,"
said his daughter, laughingly. "Is that the reason you installed him in Pat's place?"
"Can you doubt it, my dear?" replied her father, in mock solemnity.
"Well," said she, "I think your new factotum fails decidedly in good manners, if nothing else. He stared most impudently at me when he came out from behind the picture. I should have reprimanded him myself if I had not been so full of laughter at his ridiculous appearance."
"That's the joke of it. It was as good as a play to see him. I never saw a man more startled and confused. He evidently thought for a moment, as he said, that the girl in the painting had stepped out upon the floor, and that you were she."
"How absurd!" exclaimed his daughter.
"Yes; and now that I think of it, he glanced from you to the picture, to satisfy himself that his senses were not deceiving him, before he started to come away."
"I cannot see any special resemblance," she replied, at the same time inwardly pleased that she should be thought like the beautiful creature on the canvas.
"But there is a strong resemblance," persisted her father, "especially in general effect. I will prove it to you. There is old Schwartz; he is not troubled with imagination, but sees things just as they are.
He would look at you, my dainty daughter, as if you were a bale of wool, and judge as composedly and accurately."
"I fear, my father," replied she, smilingly, "that you have conspired with him to pull the entire bale over my eyes. But let him come."
By this time Dennis had returned, and commenced dusting some pictures near the entrance, where he could see and hear. He felt impelled by a curiosity that he could not resist. Moreover he had a little natural vanity in wis.h.i.+ng to show that he was not such a guy, after all. It was hard for him to remember that he stood in Pat Murphy's position.
What difference did it make to the lady whether such as he was a fright or not?
Mr. Schwartz entered, and at Mr. Ludolph's bidding looked at the living and the painted girl. In his slow, sententious tones, one could not help feeling that he was telling just how things appeared to him. The young lady stood beside the painting and unconsciously a.s.sumed the expression of her fair shadow. Indeed it seemed an expression but too habitual to her face.
"Yes," he said, "there is a decided resemblance--close in dress--close in complexion--color of hair much the same--eyes much alike--Miss Ludolph not quite so tall," etc. Then with an awkward attempt at a compliment, like an elephant trying to execute a quickstep, he continued:
"If I may be permitted to be so bold as to speak--express an opinion--I should beg leave to say that Miss Ludolph favors herself--more favored--is better-looking," he blurted out at last, backing out of the door at the same time, with his brow bathed in perspiration from the throes of this great and unwonted effort at gallantry.
"Bah!" said Dennis to himself, "the old mole left out the very chief thing in tracing the likeness--the expression! See her now as she listens to his awkward attempt at compliment. She is looking at him with the same scornful, laughing face that the girl in the picture wears toward the bungling admirer at her feet. He is right in one thing though, she is better-looking."
But the moment Mr. Schwartz's bulky figure vanished from the doorway, Miss Ludolph caught the critical, intelligent gaze of Dennis Fleet, and the expression of her face changed instantly to a frown. But, to do her justice, it was more in vexation with herself than with him.
Her innate delicacy of feeling showed her that it looked like small vanity to be standing there while comparisons like the above were inst.i.tuted. Her manner at once became cold, observant, and thoroughly self-possessed. She stepped out into the store, and by a few keen, critical glances seemed to take in its whole effect. Again disapprobation clouded her fair brow, and she p.r.o.nounced audibly but one word--"Stiff."
Then she pa.s.sed into her father's private office.
CHAPTER XII
BLUE BLOOD
Dennis's mind was a chaos of conflicting feelings. The picture had deeply interested him, and so did the beautiful girl that it by strange coincidence so strongly resembled. It could not be otherwise with one of his beauty-loving nature. And yet the impression made by the face in the painting--of something wrong, discordant--was felt more decidedly in respect to the living face.
But before he had time to realize what had just pa.s.sed the lady and her father appeared at the door of the office, and he heard the latter say: "I know you are right, my dear. It's all wrong. The arrangement of the store is as stiff and methodical as if we were engaged in selling mathematical instruments. But I have not time to attend to the matter, and there is not one in the store that has the least idea of artistic combination, unless it is Fleet. I have noticed some encouraging symptoms in him."
"What! he of the duster and mop? I fear our case is desperate, then, if he is our best hope."
Dennis's cheeks were burning again; but, turning his back, he rubbed away harder than ever at a Greek G.o.d that he was polis.h.i.+ng. But they gave him no thought. Speaking with a sudden animation the young lady said, "Father, I have a great mind to try it myself--that is, if you are willing."
"But, my daughter, I could not permit you to be engaged in any such employment before our customers."
"Certainly not! I would come early in the morning, before art-customers are stirring. I really should enjoy the task greatly, if I had any one to help me who could in some faint degree comprehend the effects I wished to produce. The long spring mornings soon to come would be just the time for it. To what better use could I put my taste and knowledge of art than in helping you and furthering our plan for life?"
Mr. Ludolph hesitated between his pride and his strong desire to gain the advantages which the acceptance of this offer would secure. Finally he said: "We will think about it. I am expecting a great many new and beautiful things early in the spring, and no doubt it would be well then to rearrange the store completely, and break up the rigid system into which we have fallen. In the meantime I appreciate your offer, and thank you warmly."
Dennis's heart leaped within him at the thought of instruction from such a teacher, and he longed to offer his services. But he rightly judged that the proposal would be regarded as an impertinence at that time. The successor of Pat Murphy was not expected to know anything of art, or have any appreciation of it. So he bent his head lower, but gave Jupiter Olympus such a rubbing down as the G.o.d had deserved long ago. In a moment more Miss Ludolph pa.s.sed him on her way out of the store, noticing him no more than she did his dust-brush.
Mr. Ludolph was the younger son of a n.o.ble but impoverished German family, and was intensely proud of his patrician blood. His parents, knowing that he would have to make his own way in the world, had sent him, while a mere boy, to this country, and placed him in charge of a distant relative, who was engaged in the picture-trade in New York.
He had here learned to speak English in his youth with the fluency and accuracy of a native, but had never become Americanized, so much family pride had he inherited, and $o strongly did he cling to the traditions of his own land.
He showed great business ability in his chosen calling, especially displaying remarkable judgment in the selection of works of art. So unusual was his skill in this direction, that when twenty-one years old he was sent abroad to purchase pictures. For several years he travelled through Europe. He became quite cosmopolitan in character, and for a time enjoyed life abundantly. His very business brought him in contact with artists and men of culture, while his taste and love of beauty were daily gratified. He had abundant means, and money could open many doors of pleasure to one who, like him, was in vigorous health and untroubled by a conscience. Moreover, he was able to spend much time in his beloved Germany, and while there the great ambition of his life entered his heart. His elder brother, who was living inexclusive pride and narrow economy on the ancient but diminished ancestral estate, ever received him graciously. This brother had married, but had not been blessed or cursed with children, for the German baron, with his limited finances, could never decide in what light to regard them. Too poor to mingle with his equals, too proud to stoop to those whom he regarded as inferiors, he had lived much alone, and grown narrower and more bigoted in his family pride day by day. Indeed, that he was Baron Ludolph, was the one great fact of his life. He spent hours in conning over yellow, musty records of the ancient grandeur of his house, and would gloat over heroic deeds of ancestors he never thought of imitating. In brief, he was like a small barnacle on an old and water-logged s.h.i.+p, that once had made many a gallant and prosperous voyage richly freighted, but now had drifted into shallow water and was falling to decay. He made a suggestion, however, to his younger brother, that wakened the ambition of the latter's stronger nature, and set him about what became his controlling purpose, his life-work.
"Make a fortune in America," said his brother, "and come back and restore the ancient wealth and glory of your family."
The seed fell into receptive soil, and from that day the art and pleasure loving citizen of the world became an earnest man with a purpose. But as he chose his purpose mainly from selfish motives it did not become an enn.o.bling one. He now gave double attention to business and practical economy. He at once formed the project of starting in business for himself, and of putting the large profits resulting from his judicious selection of pictures into his own pocket.
He made the most careful arrangements, and secured agencies that he could trust in the purchase of pictures after he should return to the United States.
During his stay in Paris, on his way back, an event occurred that had a most untoward influence on his plans and hopes. He fell desperately in love with a beautiful French woman. Like himself, she was poor, but of patrician blood, and was very fascinating. She attracted him by her extreme beauty and brilliancy. She was very shrewd, and could seem anything she chose, being a perfect actress in the false, hollow life of the world. In accordance with Parisian ideas, she wanted a husband to pay her bills, to be a sort of protector and base of general operations. Here was a man who promised well, fine-looking, and, if not rich, capable of making large sums of money.
She insinuated herself into his confidence, and appeared to share his enthusiasm for the darling project of his life. He felt that, with such a beautiful and sympathetic woman to spur him on and share his success, earth would be a Paradise indeed; and she a.s.sured him, in many delicate and bewitching ways, that it would. In brief, he married her; and then learned, in bitterness, anger, and disgust, that she had totally deceived him. To his pa.s.sionate love she returned indifference; to his desire for economy, unbounded extravagance, contracting debts which he must pay to avoid disgrace. She showed an utter unwillingness to leave the gayety of Paris, laughing in his face at his plan of life, and a.s.suring him that she would never live in so stupid a place as Germany. His love died hard. He made every appeal to her that affection prompted. He tried entreaty, tenderness, coldness, anger, but all in vain. Selfish to the core, loving him not, utterly unscrupulous, she trod upon his quivering heart as recklessly as upon the stones of the street. Soon he saw that, in spite of his vigilance, he was in danger of being betrayed in all respects. Then he grew hard and fierce. The whole of his strong German nature was aroused. In a tone and manner that startled and frightened her, he said: "_We_ sail for New York in three days. Be ready. If you prove unfaithful to me--if you seek to desert me, I will _kill_ you. I swear it--not by G.o.d, for I don't believe in Him. If He existed, such creatures as you would not. But I swear it by my family pride and name, which are dearer to me than life, if you leave a stain upon them you shall _die_. You need not seek to escape me. I would follow you through the world. I would kill you on the crowded street--anywhere, even though I died myself the next moment. And now look well to your steps."
The glitter of his eye was as cold and remorseless as the sheen of steel. She saw that he meant and would do just what he said.