Part 62 (1/2)
”Really, Mr. Van Berg, I am becoming bewildered as to what that little sketch I asked you to make may involve.”
”Will it be so wearisome for you to come here?” he asked, with a look of disappointment that surprised her still more.
”I didn't say that,” was her quick reply; ”and I promise to come to-morrow. Perhaps you will find that sufficient.”
”I know it won't be sufficient.”
”Cousin Ik has told me that you are very painstaking and conscientious in your work.”
”Thanks to Cousin Ik. When I get a chance to paint such a picture as this I do, indeed, wish to make the most of it.”
”But how long must Mr. Eltinge wait for it?”
”I think we can send it to him as a Christmas present.”
”We? You, rather, will send it.”
”No, WE; or rather, in giving me the sittings you give Mr. Eltinge all that makes the picture valuable to him.”
Ida's cheeks began to burn, for the artist's words suggested a powerful temptation that; in accordance with her impetuous nature, came in the form of an impulse rather than an insidious and lurking thought. The impulse was to accept of the opportunities he pressed upon her, and, if possible, win him away from Jennie Burton. At first it seemed a mean and dishonorable thing to do, and her face grew crimson with shame at the very thought. Van Berg looked at her with surprise. Conscious himself that while he meant that Mr. Eltinge should profit richly from her visits, it was not by any means for the sake of the old gentleman only that he had been requesting her to come so often, his own color began to rise.
”She begins to see that my motives are a little mixed, and that is what is embarra.s.sing her,” he thought as he bent over his work to hide his own confusion.
”Mr. Van Berg, I'm getting tired of sitting still,” Ida exclaimed.
”It's contrary to my restless disposition. May I not make an exploring tour around your studio? You have no idea what a constraint I've been putting on my feminine curiosity.”
”I give you a 'carte-blanche' to do as you please. Have you much curiosity?”
”I'm a daughter of Eve.”
”Well, I'm coming to the conclusion that there is a good deal of 'old Adam' in me,” and he felt that as she then appeared she could tempt him to almost anything.
Now that her back was towards him she felt safer, and her mellow laugh trilled out as she said, ”We may have to dub this place a confessional rather than a studio of you talk in that way.”
”If I confessed all my sins against you, Miss Mayhew, it would, indeed, be a confessional.” He spoke so earnestly that she gave him a quick glance of surprise.
”There is no need,” she said, hesitatingly, ”since I have given you full absolution,” and she suddenly became interested in something in the farthest corner of the apartment. After a moment she added, ”If I am to come here I must say to you again, as I did on the day I so disgusted you by my behavior in the stage--you must let by-gones be by-gones.”
It was now the artist's turn to laugh, and his merriment was so hearty and prolonged that she turned a vexed and crimson face towards him and said, ”I think it's too bad in you to laugh at me so.”
”Miss Mayhew, I a.s.sure you I'm not laughing at you at all. But your words suggest a good omen. Didn't that stage teach you that fate means us to be good friends in spite of all you can do? Before we met in that car of fortune I had been trying for a week or more to make your acquaintance, and made a martyr of myself in the effort.
I played the agreeable to nearly every lady in the hotel, and perspired on picnics and boating parties that I did not enjoy. I played croquet and other games till I was half bored to death, and all in the effort to produce such a genial atmosphere of enjoyment and good-feeling that you would thaw a little towards me; but you wouldn't speak to me, nor even look at me. At last I gave up in despair and went off among the hills with my sketch-book, and when returning that blessed old stage overtook me. Wasn't I pleased when I found you were a fellow-pa.s.senger! and let me now express my thanks that you looked so resolutely away from me, for it gave me a chance to contrast a profile in which I could detect no fault with the broad, sultry visage of the stout woman opposite me. And then, thank heaven, the horses ran away. Whoever heard of stage horses running away before? It was a smile of fortune--a miracle.
Submit to destiny, Miss Mayhew, for it's decreed that we should be good friends,” and he laughed again in huge enjoyment of the whole scene.
In spite of herself Ida found his humor contagious and irresistible, and she laughed also till the tears came into her eyes.
”Mr. Van Berg,” she exclaimed, ”I ought to be indignant, or I ought to be ashamed to look you in the face. I don't know what I ought to do, only I'm sure it isn't the proper thing at all for me to be laughing in this way. I think I'll go home at once, for I'm only wasting your time.
His answer was not very relevant, for he said impetuously, ”Oh, Miss Ida, I would give five years of my life to be able to paint your portrait as you now appear, for the picture would cure old melancholy himself and fill a prison-cell with light.”
”I won't come here any more if you laugh at me so,” she said, putting on her hat.