Part 63 (1/2)

”And you really mean this, Giulia?” he questioned, in a low tone.

”Yes, if my proposal meets with your approval, we can at least make the experiment. If it should not prove a success, we can easily abandon it whenever you choose.”

He knew that he could not do without her--knew that she had become so essential to him that he was appalled at the mere thought of losing her, while the sound of that magic word ”home,” around which cl.u.s.tered everything that was comfortable and attractive, opened before him the promise of something better than he had ever yet known in life.

Let us slip over the six months following, to find this little family pleasantly settled in an elegant villa a few miles up the Hudson.

It is replete with every luxury that money can purchase.

The choicest in art of every description decorates its walls, and pleasant, sunny rooms, while in a s.p.a.cious studio, opening out upon a wide lawn, may be seen numerous unfinished pieces of statuary, upon which the crippled but ambitious master of the house has already begun to work, although his strength will permit him to do but little at a time.

Giulia, or ”Madame Correlli,” as she is now known, is the presiding genius of this ideal spot, and she fills her place with both dignity and grace; while her watchful care and never-failing patience and cheerfulness are beginning to a.s.sert their charm upon the man to whom she is devoting herself, as is noticeable in his many efforts to make life pleasant to her, in his frequent appeals to her judgment and approval of his work, and the courtesy which he invariably accords her.

Ino has grown, although he is still a beautiful child--very bright and forward for his age, and a source of great enjoyment to his father, who, even now, has begun to direct his tiny hands in the use of the mallet and chisel.

It was more than a year after her marriage that Edith, accompanied by her mother, visited the annual exhibition of the ---- Academy of Art.

Among the numerous pictures which were shown there were two which attracted more attention than all the others. They were evidently intended as companion-pieces, and had been painted by the same artist.

The scene was laid in an avenue of a park. On either side there grew beautiful, great trees, whose widespread branches made graceful shadows on the graveled walk beneath. In the center of this avenue--in the first picture--two figures stood facing each other; one an elderly man, proud and haughty in his bearing, richly dressed and with a certain air of the world investing him, but with a face--although possessing great natural beauty--so wretched and full of remorse, so lined and seamed with soul-anguish, that the heart of every beholder was instantly moved to deepest sympathy.

Before him stood a beautiful maiden who was the embodiment of all that was pure and happy. Her face was lovely beyond description--its every feature perfect, its expression full of sweetness and peace, while a divine pity and yearning shone forth from her heavenly blue eyes, which were upraised to the despairing countenance of her companion.

Her dress was simple white, belted at the waist with a girdle and flowing ends of gleaming satin ribbon, while a dainty straw hat, from which a single white plume drooped gracefully, crowned her golden head.

The gentleman was standing with outstretched hands, as if in the act of making some appeal to the fair girl, whose grave sweetness, while it suggested no yielding, yet indicated pity and sorrow for the other's suffering.

The second picture presented the same figures, but its import was entirely different.

Away down the avenue, the young girl, looking even more fair and graceful, was just pa.s.sing out of sight, while the gentleman had turned and was gazing after her, a rapt expression on his face, the misery all obliterated from it, the despair all gone from his eyes, while in their place there had dawned a look of resignation and peace, and a faint smile even seemed to hover about the previously pain-lined mouth, which told that he had just learned some lesson from his vanis.h.i.+ng angel that had changed the whole future for him.

As Edith looked upon these paintings, which betrayed a master-hand in every stroke of the brush, a rush of tears blinded her eyes, for she instantly recognized the scene, although there had been no attempt at portraiture in the faces, and she read at once the story they were intended to reveal.