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Barriers Burned Away

Page 28

by Edward Payson Roe


  CHAPTER XXVII

  A MISERABLE TRIUMPH

  After Ernst's departure Christine reclined wearily in her chair, quiteexhausted by even the slight effort she had made, but her thoughtswere busy.

  "What a unique character that Dennis Fleet is! And yet, in view ofwhat he believes and professes, he is both natural and consistent. Heseems humble only in station, and that is not his fault. Everythinghe does seems marked by unusual good taste and intelligence. His earlierposition and treatment in the store must have been very galling. I canhardly believe that the gentleman I sang Mendelssohn's music with theother evening was the same that I laughed at as he blacked oldSchwartz's boots. And yet he saw me laugh, and blacked the boots,conscious that he was a gentleman. It must have been very hard. Andyet I would rather do such work myself than live on charity, and soundoubtedly he felt. It is very fortunate that we nearly finished therearrangement of the pictures before all this occurred, for I couldnot order him about now as I have done. The fact is, I like servants,not dignified helpers; and knowing what I do, even if he would permitit, I could not speak to him as formerly. But he did show wonderfultaste and skill in his help. See now that little ivy-twined basket ofluscious fruit: it looks just like him. If he were only rich and titled,what a genuine nobleman he would make! He is among the few men who donot weary or disgust me; so many are coarse and commonplace. I cannotunderstand it, but I, who fear and care for no one except my father,almost feared him when under Miss Brown's insolence he looked as fewmen can. What a jumble the world is! He sweeps the store, whileinsignificant atoms of men are conspicuous in their littleness byreason of high position.

  "It was very kind of him to send me this tasteful gift after themiserable experience I caused him the other day. I suppose he does iton the principle of returning good for evil, as his creed teaches.Moreover, he seems grateful that father gave him employment, and achance to earn twice what he receives. He certainly must be promotedat once.

  "Perhaps," thought she, smiling to herself, while a faint tinge ofcolor came into her cheeks--"perhaps, like so many others, he may beinclined to be a little sentimental also, though he will never be assilly as some of them.

  "What a noble part he acted toward those Bruders! The heart of a pagancould not fail to be touched by that poor little fellow's story, andit has made me believe that I have more heart than I supposed.Sometimes, especially when I hear or read of some such noble deed, Icatch glimpses of a life infinitely better than the one I know, likethe sun shining through a rift in the clouds; then they shut downagain, and father's practical wisdom seems the best there is.

  "At any rate," she said aloud, getting up and walking the floor withsomething of the old restless energy, "I intend to live while I live,and crowd into life's brief day all that I can. I thank Mr. Fleet fora few sensations in what would otherwise have been a monotonous, drearyafternoon."

  "What, strawberries!" said Mr. Ludolph, coming in. "Where did you getthese? They are the first I have seen."

  "Your man-of-all-work sent them to me," said Christine, daintily dippingone after another in sugar.

  "Well, that is a good joke."

  "A most excellent one, which I am enjoying, and in which you may share.Help yourself."

  "And what has led him to this extravagant favor?"

  "Consistency, I suppose. As a good Christian he would return good forevil; and I certainly caused him many and varied tortures the otherday."

  "No, he is grateful; from first to last the callow youth has beenoverwhelmed with gratitude that I have permitted him to be worth tome double what I paid him."

  "Well, you have decided to promote him, have you not?"

  "Yes, he shall have charge of the hanging of new pictures, and thegeneral arrangement of the store, so as to keep up your tasteful andartistic methods. Moreover, he shall meet customers at the door, anddirect them just where to find what they want. He is fine-looking,polite, speaks English perfectly, and thus takes well. I can graduallywork him in as general salesman, without creating troublesomejealousies."

  "What will old Schwartz say?"

  "Schwartz is good at finance and figures. I can trust him, and he mustrelieve me more in this respect. He of course knows that this is themore important work, and will feel honored. As to the others, if theydo not like it I can find plenty who will. Fleet's good fortune willtake him quite by surprise. He was performing his old humble dutiesas briskly and contentedly as usual to-day."

  "I am surprised at that, for I should have supposed that he would havebeen on his dignity somewhat, indicating by manner at least that thetime for a change had come. He can indicate a great deal by manner,as you might have learned had you seen him under Miss Brown's insultsand my lack of courtesy. Well, it does me good to find one Americanwhose head is not turned by a little success. You are right though,I think, father; that young fellow can be very useful to you, and adecided help in hastening the time when we can leave this shop life,and enter our true sphere. I am more impatient to go than words canexpress, for life seems so brief and uncertain that we must graspthings as soon as possible or we lose them forever. Heavens! what ascare I have had! Everything seemed slipping from under my feetyesterday, and I sinking I know not where. Surely by concentratingevery energy we can be ready to go by a year from next fall."

  "Yes, that is my plan now."

  On the following day Dennis was again promoted and his pay increased.A man more of the Pat Murphy type was found to perform the coarse workof the store. As Mr. Ludolph had said, Dennis could hardly realize hisgood fortune. He felt like one lifted out of a narrow valley to abreezy hillside. He was now given a vantage-point from which it seemedthat he could climb rapidly, and his heart was light as he thought ofwhat he would be able to do for his mother and sisters. Hope grewsanguine as he saw how he would now have the means to pursue his belovedart-studies to far greater advantage. But, above all, his promotionbrought him nearer the object of his all-absorbing passion. What hefeared would take him one or two years to accomplish he had gained ina day. Hope whispered that perhaps it was through her influence insome degree that he had obtained this advance. Could she have seen andread his ardent glances? Lovers' hopes will grow like Jonah's gourd,and die down as quickly. Words could not express his longing to seeher again, but for several days she did not come to the store. Shemerely sent him word to complete the unfinished show-room in accordancewith the plan on which they had been working, leaving space on thesides of the room opposite each other for two large pictures. Thoughmuch disappointed, Dennis had carefully carried out her bidding.

  Every evening the moment his duties permitted he sought his instructor,Mr. Bruder, and, with an eagerness that his friends could notunderstand, sought to educate hand and eye. Dennis judged rightly thatmere business success would never open to him a way to the heart ofsuch a girl as Christine. His only hope of winning even her attentionwas to excel in the world of art, where she hoped to shine as a queen.Then to his untiring industry and eager attention he added real geniusfor his tasks, and it was astonishing what progress he made. When atthe close of his daily lesson Dennis had taken his departure, Mr.Bruder would shake his head, and cast up his eyes in wonder, andexclaim: "Dot youth vill astonish de vorld yet. Never in all Germanyhaf I seen such a scholar."

  Often till after midnight he would study in the solitude of his ownlittle room. And now, relieved of duties in the early morning, hearranged an old easel in the attic of the store, a sort of generallumber-room, yet with a good light for his purpose. Here he securedtwo good hours daily, and often more, for painting; and his hand grewskilful, and his eye true, under his earnest efforts. But his intenseapplication caused his body to grow thin and his face pale.

  Christine had rapidly recovered from her illness, her vital and elasticconstitution rebounding back into health and vigor like a bow rarelybent. She, too, was working scarcely less eagerly than Dennis, andpreparing for a triumph which she hoped would be the earnest of thefame she meant to achieve. She no longer came to the
store with herfather in the morning, but spent the best and early hours of the dayin painting, riding out along the lake and in the park in the afternoon.Occasionally she came to the store in the after part of the day, glancedsharply round to see that her tasteful arrangement was kept up, andever seemed satisfied.

  Dennis was usually busy with customers at that time, and, thoughconscious of her presence the moment she entered, found no excuse orencouragement to approach. The best he ever received from her was aslight smile and a cold bow of recognition, and in her haste andself-absorption she did not always give these. She evidentlyhad something on her mind by which it was completely occupied.

  "She does not even think of me," sighed Dennis; "she evidently imaginesthat there is an immeasurable distance between us yet."

  He was right; she did not think of him, and scarcely thought of anyone else, so absorbed was she in the hope of a great success that nowwas almost sure. She had sent her thanks for the berries by her father,which so frightened Dennis that he had ventured on no more such favors.She had interceded for his promotion. Surely she had paid her debt,and was at quits. So she would have been if he had only given her abasket of strawberries, but having given his heart, and lifelong love,he could scarcely be expected to be satisfied. But he vowed after eachblank day all the more resolutely that he would win her attention,secure recognition of his equality, and so be in position for layingsiege to her heart.

  But a deadly blight suddenly came over all his hopes.

  One bright morning late in May two large flat boxes were brought tothe store. Dennis was busy with customers, and Mr. Schwartz said, inhis blunt, decided way, that he would see to the hanging of thosepictures. They were carried to the show-room in the rear of the store,and Dennis at once concluded that they were something very fine,designed to fill the spaces he had left, and was most anxious to seethem. Before he was disengaged they were lifted from their casing andwere standing side by side on the floor, opposite the entrance, thewarm rich morning light falling upon them with fine effect. Mr. Schwartzseemed unusually excited and perplexed for him, and stared first atone picture, then at the other, in a manner indicating that not theirbeauty, but some other cause disturbed him.

  Dennis had scarcely had time to exclaim at the exquisite lovelinessand finish of the two paintings before Mr. Ludolph entered, accompaniedby Mr. Cornell, a well-known artist, Mr. French, proprietor of anotherlarge picture-store, and several gentlemen of taste, but of lessernote, whom Dennis had learned to know by sight as habitues of the"Temple of Art." He also saw that Christine was advancing up the storewith a lady and gentleman. Feeling that his presence might be regardedas obtrusive, he passed out, and was about to go away, when he heardhis name called.

  Looking up he saw Miss Winthrop holding out her hand, and in a momentmore she presented him to her father, who greeted him cordially.Christine also gave him a brief smile, and said: "You need not go away.Come and see the pictures."

  Quick-eyed Dennis observed that she was filled with suppressedexcitement. Her cheeks, usually but slightly tinged with pink, now byturns glowed and were pale. Miss Winthrop seemed to share hernervousness, though what so excited them he could not divine. Thepaintings, beautiful as they were, could scarcely be the adequatecause; and yet every eye was fastened on them.

  One seemed the exact counterpart of the other in frame and finish aswell as subject. A little in the background, upon a crag overhangingthe Rhine, was a castle, massive, frowning, and built more for securityand defence than comfort. The surrounding landscape was bold, wild,and even gloomy. But in contrast with these rugged and sterner features,was a scene of exquisite softness and tenderness. Beneath the shadowof some great trees not far from the castle gate, a young crusader wastaking leave of his fair-haired bride. Her pale, tearful face, whereinlove and grief blent indescribably, would move the most callous heart,while the struggle between emotion and the manly pride that would notpermit him to give way, in the young chieftain's features, was scarcelyless touching. Beautiful as were the accessories of the pictures, theirmain point was to portray the natural, tender feeling induced by aparting that might be forever. At first they all gazed quietly andalmost reverently at the vivid scene of human love and sorrow, saveold Schwartz, who fidgeted about as Dennis had never seen him before.Clearly something was wrong.

  "Mr. Schwartz," said Mr. Ludolph, "you may hang the original pictureon the side as we enter, and the copy opposite. We would like to seethem up, and in a better light."

  "Dat's it," snorted Mr. Schwartz; "I'd like to know vich is vich."

  "You do not mean to say that you cannot tell them apart? The originalhung here some time, and you saw it every day."

  "I do mean to say him," said Mr. Schwartz, evidently much vexed withhimself. "I couldn't have believed dat any von in de vorld could soimpose on me. But de two pictures are just de same to a pin scratchin frame, subject, and treatment, and to save my life I cannot telldem apart."

  Christine's face fairly glowed with triumph, and her eyes were allaflame as she glanced at her friend. Miss Winthrop came and took hercold, quivering hands into her own warm palms, but was scarcely lessexcited. Dennis saw not this side scene, so intent was he on thepictures.

  "Do you mean to say," said Mr. Cornell, stepping forward, "that oneof these paintings is a copy made here in Chicago, and that Mr. Schwartzcannot tell it from the original?"

  "He says he cannot," said Mr. Ludolph.

  "And I'd like to see the von who can," said old Schwartz, gruffly.

  "Will you please point out the original," said one of the gentlemen,"that we may learn to distinguish them? For my part they seem like thetwins whose mother knew them apart by pink and white ribbons, and whenthe ribbons got mixed she could not tell which was which."

  Again Christine's eyes glowed with triumph.

  "Well, really, gentlemen," said Mr. Ludolph, "I would rather you woulddiscover the copy yourselves. Mr. Cornell, Mr. French, and some others,I think, saw the original several times."

  "Look at Mr. Fleet," whispered Miss Winthrop to Christine.

  She looked, and her attention was riveted to him. Step by step, he haddrawn nearer, and his eyes were eagerly glancing from one picture tothe other as if following up a clew. Instinctively she felt that hewould solve the question, and her little hands clenched, and her browgrew dark.

  "Really," said Mr. Cornell, "I did not know that we had an artist inChicago who could copy the work of one of the best European paintersso that there need be a moment's hesitancy in detecting differences,but it seems I am mistaken. I am almost as puzzled as Mr. Schwartz."

  "The frames are exactly alike," said Mr. French.

  "There is a difference between the two pictures," said Mr. Cornell,slowly. "I can feel it rather than see it. They seem alike, line forline and feature for feature, in every part; and just where thedifference lies and in what it consists I cannot tell for the life ofme."

  With the manner of one who had settled a difficult problem, Dennisgave a sigh of relief so audible that several glanced at him.

  "Perhaps Mr. Fleet from his superior knowledge and long experience cansettle this question," said Christine, sarcastically.

  All eyes were turned toward him. He flushed painfully, but said nothing.

  "Speak up," said Mr. Ludolph, good-naturedly, "if you have any opinionto give."

  "I would not presume to give my opinion among so many more competentjudges."

  "Come, Mr. Fleet," said Christine, with a covert taunt in her tone,"that is a cheap way of making a reputation. I fear the impressionwill be given that you have no opinion."

  Dennis was now very pale, as he ever was under great excitement. Theold look came again that the young ladies remembered seeing at MissBrown's entertainment.

  "Come, speak up if you can," said Mr. Ludolph shortly.

  "Your porter, Mr. Ludolph?" said Mr. Cornell, remembering Dennis onlyin that capacity. "Perhaps he has some private marks by which he canenlighten us."

  Dennis now acted
no longer as porter or clerk, but as a man among men.

  Stepping forward and looking Mr. Cornell full in the face he said: "Ican prove to you, sir, that your insinuation is false by simply statingthat I never saw those pictures before. The original had been removedfrom the store before I came. I have had therefore no opportunity ofknowing the copy from the original. But the pictures are different,and I can tell precisely wherein I think the difference lies."

  "Tell it then," said several voices. Christine stood a little back andon one side, so that he could not see her face, or he would havehesitated long before he spoke. In the firm, decided tones of onethoroughly aroused and sure of his ground, he proceeded.

  "Suppose this the copy," said he, stepping to one of the pictures.(Christine breathed hard and leaned heavily against her friend.) "Iknow of but one in Chicago capable of such exquisite work, and he didnot do it; indeed he could not, though a master in art."

  "You refer to Mr. Bruder?" said Mr. Cornell.

  Dennis bowed and continued: "It is the work of one in whom the imitativepower is wonderfully developed; but one having never felt--or unableto feel--the emotions here presented cannot portray them. This pictureis but the beautiful corpse of that one. While line for line, andfeature for feature, and even leaf for leaf on the trees is faithfullyexact, yet the soul, the deep, sorrowful tenderness that you feel inthat picture rather than see, is wanting in this. In that picture youforget to blame or praise, to criticise at all, so deeply are yoursympathies touched. It seems as if in reality two human hearts werebeing torn asunder before you. This you know to be an exquisite pictureonly, and can coolly criticise and dwell on every part, and say howadmirably it is done."

  And Dennis bowed and retired.

  "By Jove, he is right," exclaimed Mr. Cornell; and approving faces andnodding heads confirmed his judgment. But Dennis enjoyed not histriumph, for as he turned he met Christine's look of agony and hate,and like lightning it flashed through his mind, "She painted thepicture."

 

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