CHAPTER XI
TOO MUCH ALIKE
One of the duties that Dennis enjoyed most was the opening of newgoods. With the curiosity and pleasure of a child he would unpack thetreasures of art consigned to his employer, and when a number of boxeswere left at the front door he was eager to see their contents. Duringhis first three weeks at the store, there had not been many sucharrivals of goods and pictures. But now new things were coming in; and,above all, Mr. Ludolph was daily expecting pictures importeddirectly from Europe.
One afternoon early in February a large flat box was brought to thestore. Mr. Ludolph examined its marks, smiled, and told Dennis to openit with great care, cutting every nail with a chisel. There was littleneed of cautioning him, for he would have bruised his right hand ratherthan mar one line of beauty.
The "Art Building" contained two or three small showrooms, where themore valuable pictures could be exhibited in a good light. Into oneof these the large box was carried, and most carefully opened. The twoclerks who were helping Dennis laughed at his eager interest, andcalled him under their breath a "green 'un." Mr. Schwartz looked uponhim as a mild sort of lunatic. But Mr. Ludolph, who stood near, to seeif the picture was safe and right, watched him with some curiosity.His manner was certainly very different from Pat Murphy's at such atime, and his interest both amused and pleased his employer.
When at last the picture was lifted from the box and placed on a largeeasel, all exclaimed at its beauty save Dennis. On looking at him,they saw that his eyes had filled with tears, and his lips werequivering so that he could not have spoken.
"Is she a relation of yours?" asked Mr. Schwartz, in a matter-of-facttone.
A loud laugh followed this sally from such an unusual source. Dennisturned on his heel, left the room, and busied himself with duties ina distant part of the store the rest of the day. It seemed to him thatthey were like savages bartering away gold and pearls, whose valuethey could not understand; much less could they realize his possessionof a nature of exquisite sensibility to beauty.
When all were gone he returned to the room, and sat down before thepicture in rapt attention. It was indeed a fine work of art, finishedin that painstaking manner characteristic of the Germans.
The painting was a winter scene in Germany. In the far background rosewooded and snow-clad hills. Nearer in the perspective was a bold bluff,surmounted by a half-ruined castle. At the base of the bluff floweda river, now a smooth glare of ice, and in the distance figures werewheeling about upon skates. In the immediate foreground were twopersons. One was a lovely young girl, dressed in black velvet trimmedwith ermine. The basque fitted closely to her person, revealing itsgraceful outlines, and was evidently adapted to the active sport inwhich she was engaged. While the rich warm blood mantled her cheeks,the snow was not whiter than her temples and brow. Down her shouldersflowed a profusion of wavy hair, scattered threads of which glistenedlike gold in the slanting rays of the sun. Her eyes, of a deep violet,were turned, in sympathy with the scorn of the full, smiling mouth,upon the figure of a young man kneeling before her, making awkwardattempts to fasten her skate to the trim little foot. It was evidentthat the favor was too much for him, and that his fluttering heartmade his hands trembling and unskilful. But the expression of themaiden's face clearly indicated that her heart was as cold toward himas the ice on which he kneeled.
The extreme beauty of the picture and its exquisite finish fascinatedDennis, while the girl's face jarred upon his feelings like a musicaldiscord. After gazing fixedly for a long time, he said, "What possessedthe man to paint such a lovely face and make its expression only thatof scorn, pride, and heartless merriment?"
All the long night the face haunted and troubled him. He saw it in hisdreams. It had for him a strong interest that he could notunderstand--that strange fascination which a very beautiful thing thathas been marred and wronged has for some natures. So powerful was thisimpression upon his sensitive nature that he caught himself saying,as of a living being, "Oh, that I could give to that face the expressionGod meant it to have!"
And then he laughed at his own folly. His watchfulness caused him tooversleep the next morning, and he was later than usual in gettingthrough the routine duties of the store. At length, about nine o'clock,dusty and begrimed from mopping, feeding the furnace, etc., he stoodwith duster and brush in hand before the painting that had so disturbedhis rest. He was in his shirt-sleeves, and in careful economy had alarge coarse apron of ticking girded about his person. His black,dishevelled locks looked like an inverted crow's nest, and altogetherhe was unpresentable, appearing more like the presiding divinity ofa dust-heap than of an "Art Building."
After gazing a few moments on the scornful, beautiful face that mighthave obtained its haughty patrician lineaments from the old barons ofthe ruined castle just above, he seemed to grow conscious of thishimself, and shrunk behind the picture half ashamed, as if the fairgirl 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. Finishing his task, hestepped out from behind the picture with the purpose of leaving theapartment, when a vision met his gaze which startled him to that degreethat he dropped his brush and duster upon the floor, and stoodtransfixed. There before him, in flesh and blood it seemed, stood thelady of the picture--the same dress, the same beautiful blond face,and, above all, the same expression. He was made conscious of hisabsurd position by a suppressed titter from the clerks at the door,and a broad laugh from Mr. Ludolph. The beautiful face turned towardhim for a moment, and he felt himself looked over from head to foot.At first there was an expression of vexation at the interruption, andthen, 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 histools and beat a hasty retreat. As he passed out, Mr. Ludolph asked,good naturedly, "Why, Fleet, what is the matter?"
"Indeed, sir, I hardly know," answered the bewildered youth, "but itseems to me that I have lost my wits since that picture came. For amoment I thought that the lady on the canvas had stepped out upon thefloor."
"Now that you speak of it," exclaimed Mr. Ludolph, advancing into theroom, "there is a striking resemblance."
"Nonsense! father," Dennis heard the young lady say; "you are too oldto flatter. As for that hare-brained youth of the dust-brush, he lookedas if he might have the failing of poor Pat, and not always be ableto see straight."
At this Dennis's cheeks grew hotter still, while a low laugh from oneor two of the clerks near showed that they were enjoying hisembarrassment.
Dennis hastened away to his room, and it was well that he did not hearthe conversation that followed.
"Oh, no!" responded Mr. Ludolph, "that is not Dennis's failing. He isa member of a church in 'good and regular standing.' He will be oneof the 'pillars' by and by."
"You are always having a fling at superstition and the superstitious,"said his daughter, laughingly. "Is that the reason you installed himin 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 goodmanners, if nothing else. He stared most impudently at me when he cameout from behind the picture. I should have reprimanded him myself ifI 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 neversaw 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 thefloor, 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 hestarted to come away."
"I cannot see any special resemblance," she replied, at the same timeinwardly pleased that she should be thought like the beautiful creatureon the canvas.
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nbsp; "But there is a strong resemblance," persisted her father, "especiallyin general effect. I will prove it to you. There is old Schwartz; heis 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 ofwool, and judge as composedly and accurately."
"I fear, my father," replied she, smilingly, "that you have conspiredwith him to pull the entire bale over my eyes. But let him come."
By this time Dennis had returned, and commenced dusting some picturesnear the entrance, where he could see and hear. He felt impelled bya curiosity that he could not resist. Moreover he had a little naturalvanity in wishing to show that he was not such a guy, after all. Itwas 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 frightor not?
Mr. Schwartz entered, and at Mr. Ludolph's bidding looked at the livingand the painted girl. In his slow, sententious tones, one could nothelp feeling that he was telling just how things appeared to him. Theyoung lady stood beside the painting and unconsciously assumed theexpression of her fair shadow. Indeed it seemed an expression but toohabitual to her face.
"Yes," he said, "there is a decided resemblance--close in dress--closein complexion--color of hair much the same--eyes much alike--MissLudolph not quite so tall," etc. Then with an awkward attempt at acompliment, like an elephant trying to execute a quickstep, hecontinued:
"If I may be permitted to be so bold as to speak--express an opinion--Ishould beg leave to say that Miss Ludolph favors herself--morefavored--is better-looking," he blurted out at last, backing out ofthe door at the same time, with his brow bathed in perspiration fromthe throes of this great and unwonted effort at gallantry.
"Bah!" said Dennis to himself, "the old mole left out the very chiefthing in tracing the likeness--the expression! See her now as shelistens to his awkward attempt at compliment. She is looking at himwith the same scornful, laughing face that the girl in the picturewears toward the bungling admirer at her feet. He is right in one thingthough, 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, todo her justice, it was more in vexation with herself than with him.Her innate delicacy of feeling showed her that it looked like smallvanity to be standing there while comparisons like the above wereinstituted. Her manner at once became cold, observant, and thoroughlyself-possessed. She stepped out into the store, and by a few keen,critical glances seemed to take in its whole effect. Againdisapprobation clouded her fair brow, and she pronounced audibly butone word--"Stiff."
Then she passed into her father's private office.
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