Chapter 111. Pursuit in Vain.

Otago Witness, Issue 1928, 2 November 1888, Page 30

Chapter 111. Pursuit in Vain.

J The Private View at the Academy was crowded as ever, spite of the additional accommodation afforded by the spacious rooms of the new building. R.A's and A.R.A's and a host of oudding and as yet undecorated artists mingled with the gay throng of butterfly beauties. These were arrayed in all the glories of the rainbow ; drapped in " arrangements " of every variety of fashion, past, present, or to come, from the Conque3t down to the days of our own good and gracious Queen. Paul was irresistibly drawn to his own picture, a portrait of Lady Mary Bramston. It was well hung, although above the line. Standing before it was a tall graceful woman from under whose small black bonnet a gleam of burnished golden hair escaped. The artist's quick eye noted the effect of the sunlight in bringing out the waim tones. " First-rate back study," he reflected, as he waited patiently to see if the front view were equally good. Turning slightly to refer to the catalogue, he saw an oval face, with clear, well cut, straight features, a pure colourless complexion, dark curling lashes fringing the downcast eyes, conscious of and annoyed at his admiring gaze, A faint colour slowly arose in her cheeks, adding marvellous brightness and life to the hitherto statuesque beauty. She had apparently found the artist's name, when/ looking up, their eyes met, hers with a startled look in th<3m. The rosy flush died out of the face, and as she abruptly turned away a jewelled pencil dropped from her trembling fingers. Paul stooped and, raising his hat, restored it to her. Silently she bowed her thanks and passed on. What haunting likeness was there in the face, what vague resemblance, recalling a long since lost and forgotten memory ? Isabel Gray— yes— she, the poor model, might have been like this majestic beauty, this glorious woman — had she, too, been happy, rich, and in a similar position. From room to room he followed her, as, looking straight before her, heedless of the crowd, she hurried on. In his eager pursuit he stumbled over a gorgeous peacock feather trimmed train. An ominous rent was the result, as with an abject apelogy he sought to free himself from the hopelessly involved draperies. He was tearing the train and himself away, when the indignant wearer confronted him. " Lady Steynham ! " The angry frown at his awkwardness subsided, the dark face lighted up with a pleasant smile, an outstretched many-but-toned lavender hand was extended in friendly greeting. " Don Pablo 1 " she exclaimed. The foreign title conferred upon Paul by the fair widow was a tribute to his eminently Spanish appearance, artistically enhanced by the picturesque style he affected. "I am delighted to see you. I've been longing for an intelligent and sympathetic guide through this bewildering labyrinth of genius and beauty. How fortunate 1 Never mind the gown ; these damages are easily repaired. Hush 1 not a word." She gathered up the folds of the train, and resting her hand lightly on his arm, continued:- " Take me to see your picture. I am dying to know if they have done justice to your genius and May's beauty." The unlucky man was buttonholed, and when at last, pleading an important engagement, he made his escape, the fair unknown had vanished. Inquiries of the man at the turnstile resulted in the information that a lady answering to his description had just passed through. He dashed down the stairs too late. A victoria was driven away as he reached the door, and as it turned into Piccadilly he had a vision of a lovely profile and a gleam of golden hair. Chapter IV. In the Countess of Steynham's boudoir three people were merrily chatting over their afternoon tea. The subject under discussion was an entertainment to be given at Steynham House, for which cards were to be issued forthwith. Lady May Bramston was begging for a fancy dress ball; her aunt, Lady Steynham, was in favour of tableaux, and Paul Smith was specially called upon to decide between the ladies. "I feel my responsible position as umpire," he was saying, adroitly deciding to please both if possible. " I should advise a series of tableaux, illustrating the progress of Art." Lady Steynham looked delighted, Lady May disappointed, when Paul continued : " Concluding with a costume ball. We could start with a classical subject, either a single figure or a group — say ' Pygmalion and Galatea,' then by a long step, on to Preraphaelitism — a Madonna, by Licinio, or better still — 'Monna Lisa.' Mediaaval Art could be fairly shown by Albert Durer's 'Melancholia,' whence Holbein, Vandyck, and Rubens would gently lead to the English school, Gainsborough, Reynolds, a Hogarth, perhaps, and so on to our own period." Lady Steynham interrupted laughingly. " I must veto the whole thing. It is too long, too much, and too artistic for the general public. As hostess, I must consider my guests." " Oh, aunt 1" Lady May observed piteously, while Paul looked annoyed. " If you like to have, say one or two tableaux as a lever de rideau, May shall have her wish, and we will decide upon a costume ball." She addressed the last words to Paul, adding with a gracious smile : '• We will put up your large picture, the woman with the red hair and the broken ornaments ; that unfinished one that hangs in your studio." " Willingly," replied Paul. « It will make an excellent tableau. But who will sit for the fair dame ?" As he put the question a vision rose before him of the beautiful unknown. "If we could only get Lady Somerville — she has just that shade of red hair," said May. " Lady Somerville," Paul inquired ; " who is she? Years ago I knew a brother of Lord Somerville ; he died in India, or was it Canada 1 He was attache somewhere in the frigid or the torrid zone." "It's the same. He inherited the title, married, and died abroad, His wife was an

Australian, very rich ; all over diamonds and nuggets. You must have met her ; she is very lovely." Lady May spoke with the generous enthusiasm of youth; her aunt adding as a rider : " And not very young." 11 She doesn't look more than 20," the young girl replied ; " though of course she is more If only she would come the tableaux would be perfect. But you don't know her, aunt." "Silly child 1 what has that to do with it ? Si e'est impossible cela se /era. Give me another cup of tea and don't trouble about my affairs. I undertake that LadySomerville shall play the Beauty, and Don Pablo shall be the Messenger. And don't lose your heart, for I hear she's engaged to Lord Duncan Glenholm." Paul assured the ladies that he was arrowproof, with a look and expression that conveyed to his hearers the idea that they individually were his protecting segis from love's wiles. And having conveyed the desired impression he left. Chapter V. Meeting Once Again. Lady Steynharn succeeded in her aim. She was introduced to Lady Somerville, and she prevailed upon her to undertake a part in the tableaux ; this was, however, only upon condition that rehearsals were dispensed with. Lady Sommerville requesting a photograph of the picture. In vain Lady Steynham suggested a visit to the studio. Lady Somerville declared " she hated artists, as they expected so much flattery and adulation " ; and the Countess, only too happy to secure the Beauty, willingly acceded to the terms she mentally voted capricious. Some days later, meeting Lady Somerville at a ball, she was delighted to present the artist to her. " Lady Somerville, allow me to introduce Mr Paul Smith ; our collaborates, you know, in the tableaux." Lady Somerville acknowledged the introduction by a slight bow. " May I have the honour of the next valse 2" Paul asked, eagerly. " Thank you, I never valse." The answer was not encouragiug, and the tone still less so, but the voice was wonderfully sweet. "The next quadrille ?" " I am engaged." " The lancers ?" She shook her head and turned away. " Have you no dance to give me ?" he persisted. " I am afraid not," she answered carelessly enough, smiling the while upon a gentleman evidently seeking to make his way to her through the crowd. As he approached Paul recognised Lord Duncan Glenholm. Claiming his dance, he led her away with empressement to a quadrille just forming. Anxiously and enviously Paul watched the two. A well-matched couple; she, leaning on his arm with willowy, bending grace ; he, tall, fair, and broad-shouldered ; a fine type of power and strength that could not but find favour in the artist's eye. This then was fortune's favourite, the man who had won the wealthy widow. He was in no mood to dance. The discovery that Lady Somerville was the fair unknown had been a blow to any hope he might have had o£ winning the one woman who realised his ideal of grace and beauty. Less rich, less courted, he might have hada chance; but now — his gaze followed her, he was wholly absorbed in watching every movement, every turn of the fair face, every glance of the wonderful eyes that never met his own. Was it chance, or did she purposely avoid him ? He determined to be convinced. Henceforth all his energies should be devoted to solving the enigma. Sphinx that she was, he would read and unravel the mystery. The rehearsals at Steynham House would be in his favour. Fervently he blessed Lady Steynham for casting him in the unimportant part of messenger in his picture with Lady Somerville. However, he was doomed herein to disappointment, and had to await the eventful night. In the meantime he sought her wherever she was likely to be met. Occasionally they passed in the row, or he saw her driving or riding in the park; and he was fein to be content with the slightest of bows or the very few words that politeness required in recognition, it might be, of some trifling service ho was only too happy to render. Had Lady Somerville desired to make him more completely her slave she could not have acted with greater judgment. The chains of her fascination, slight in the beginning, were weighing on him and binding him, a willing captive at her feet. Nettled and fascinated, Paul Smith's admiration was rapidly drifting into passionate and intense love, and the one object of his hitherto objectless life was to win her affections. The fete at Steynham House came off in due time. The daily papers called it " a colossal success," and gave unmitigated praise to the three tableaux preceding the ball. " King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid," the first given, was remarkably successful in | reproducing the elaborate detail of the celebrated pioture ; and after the curtain had risen and fallen twice upon it, was followed by Millais' " Huguenots." Lady Steynham had secured Mr Beauchamp, a bachelor and wealthy brewer, as an eligible representative of her niece's lover ; trusting to his fortune to make up for any shortcomings. Lady May looked the dart to perfection. The ensemble was enhanced by real ivy trailing over the well i imitated wall, and the flaming nasturtium and bluebell. The gem of the evening was undeniably the last—" Love Tokens," by the fashionable and popular artist, Paul Smith, in which he himself appeared as the king's messenger, and the beautiful Lady Somerville as the ill* starred Francoise. Upon the black draperies of the background the masses of ruddy, golden hair shone out in a flood of gloryi as, with imperious gesture, she points to a glittering heap of broken jewels at her feet, the abject messenger of the king cowering beneath the outraged woman's scorn. Now, and not until now, had Paul realised the truth. Seeing her in the well-remeP: bered costume, it flashed-upon him Lauy Somerville and Isabel Gray were one apd tm game— the model, whose love and devotion be had Jostj he would not admit* even t°

himself, that he had despised it. His eyes jnet hers with a look of burning love. At that look of recognition hers fell, the colour ro se ominously in her pale cheeks, and as suddenly fadGd away ; her lips parted in a faint sigh. Swaying forward, she would have fallen, but for Paul, who rushed with outstretched arras to save her. To the loud applause succeeded a sudden hush. The curtain was dropped, Lady gteynham was quickly on the scene; promptly giving the necessary directions. Xlie guests were reassured, Lady Soraerville's faintness attributed to the heat, and after a few moments, the curtain rose again upon the interrupted tableau. Paul longed to be alone with her. His heart was beating high with hopes of forgiveness : surely she could not be indifferent to the lover of her youth. Would the curtain never drop! At last, amid the sound of deafening applause, it fell? the tableaux were over ; he was free to seek her. She did not enter the ballroom, but eluded him, and he and the admiring spectators looked for her in vain. The following day Lady Somerville's house was besieged by callers ; all London left cards of inquiry. Among others, Paul Smith, who, hearing she was better, ventured to call again later in the afternoon. He was told, " Her ladyship had left town."