An Original Belle

hered in a new era in her experience; but the sense of novelty in personal affairs was quite lost as she contemplated the transformation in the mercurial Strahan, who had apparently b

was certain he would do all that he had said, and would do it in the m

and sufferings, he drew comparisons. The result was that he became more and more dissatisfied. He felt that he was anomalous, in respect not only to the rural scenery of his summer home, but to the times, and the conviction was growing that the only way to right himself was to follow the host of American youth who had gone southward. It was a conviction to which he could not readily yield, and which he sought to disguise by exaggerating his well-known characteristics. People of his temperament often shrink from revealing their deeper feelings, believing that these would seem to others so incongruous as to call forth incredulous smiles. Strahan was not a coward, except in the presence of

f the truth that great apparent changes are the re

she heard the story of Mr. Lanniere's final exit; the coquettish kitchen-maid continued her career with undisturbed complacency; and Marian to her own surprise found that, after the first days of her enthusiasm had passed, it required the exertion of no little will-power to refrain from her old mo

f misleading favor, but her little salon appeared as free from restraint as ever, and her manner as genial and lively. It began to be observed by some, however, that while she participated unhesitatingly in the light talk of o

some of her gentleman friends who were in the habit of dropping in

rself on my account," he

ng in the week. You are looking after other people in New York; I'm going to look after you; and you shall find that I am a shar

ar from commonplace. She saw the great drama of her country's history unfolding, and not only witnessed the events that were presented to the world, but was taken behind the scenes and shown many of the strange and secret causes that were producing them. Moreov

ise and no jealousy. "It was time," she said, "that Marian should b

with the latter's family, and therefore was unable to learn anything from them. Even his male friends in the neighborhood did not know where he was or what he was doing. Her father had taken the pains

after all she was but a pretty and ordinary girl, like millions of others,-a fact that Lane and Strahan had at last discovered. Suddenly she came upon the artist, sketching at a short distance

ired mood. Why should I intrude, when you have natur

ou are mistaken if you fancy you can harm any of my m

velt, I'm not

I paint for. Our best critics ar

r think of pat

hought of encouraging me a little,

r that I was bred in the city. I know the sovereign contempt that you artist

case. You have as distinct an individualit

and flowers. Some

ature in every one. Still you are right: I was conscious of

let me g

are the eglantine in human for

re near of kin. To sensible, matter-of-fact girls, nothing is more absurd than your idealization of us. See how quickly and honestly I can disenchant you. In the presence of both nature and art I

aults in my picture in the plainest English, and I will gratefully accept your invitation; for the hospitality at your cottage is so genial that bread and cheese would

me?" she asked, with a

essionist school, and my impre

not capable of criticising your picture. I kn

I am possessed by the wish to know just what they do see. There is

lt,-Nature does not make the same impression on me that it does on you. There is the scene, as you say. How can I make you understand what I feel? Nature always looks so natural to me! It awakens within me various emotions, but nev

tartling and incongr

or a fashion in art, and perhaps unconsciously you are controlled by this when looking at the scene there. It seems to me that if I were an artist I should try to get on my canvas the same effects that nature produces, and I would do it after my own fashion and not after some received method just then prevailing. Let me illustrate what I mean by a phase of life that I know more about. There are some girls in society whose ambition it is to dress in the latest sty

growing dissatisfaction, and a sense of being trammelled. I do believe, as you say, that a certain received method or fashion of treatme

ll out. Cannot changes for the better come by softening features here and bringing out others there, by colorings a little more like th

own before his easel again. "Now see if I

passed, nature's sweet, true face began to smile upon him from his canvas. Marian grew almost as absorbed as himself, learning by act

n sentences of satisfaction, and at last he turned an

petuously, "who, by looking over my

away, saying, decisively, "Be ca

He had assured himself a thousand times that art should be his mistress, yet here he was on the eve of acting like a fool by making love to one who never disguised her expensive tastes. He was not an artist of the olden school,-all romance and passion,-and the modishly dressed, reserved maiden before him did not, in the remotest degree, suggest a languishing heroine in days of yore, certain to love against sense and reason. The wild, sylvan shade, the June atmosphere, the fragrance of the eglantine, even the presence of art, in whose potent traditions mood is the highest law, could not dispel the nineteenth century or make this independent, clear-headed American girl forget for a moment what was sensible and right. S

r as many other claims upon your time and thoughts permit, I shall be very grateful. I have observed that you have a good eye for harmony in color

ch in comic dismay, a

to-day," he con

et the needs of sublunary mortals, but that I should do so must prove the existence of an undeveloped trait. I could become quite absorbed i

ls possess; and-will you forgive me?-you defend yourself like a genuine American woman. I have lived abroad, you know, and have learned how to value such women. I wish you to know how much I respect you, how truly I appreciate you, and how grateful and honored I shall feel if you will

e a more delicious sense of power than to feel that in ways I scarcely understood I was inciting my friends to make more of them

erve a useful purpo

my friends. Is that the gist of your fine words, after

r friends abundantly, but you could make me a better artist, and that with

"Meanwhile you can teach me to understand art better, so that I