There was one observable point, indeed, betokening that the artist relinquished, for her personal self, the happiness which she could so profoundly appreciate for others.In all those sketches of common life, and the affections that spiritualize it, a figure was portrayed apart, now it peeped between the branches of a shrubbery, amid which two lovers sat; now it was looking through a frosted window, from the outside, while a young wedded pair sat at their new fireside within; and once it leaned from a chariot, which six horses were whirling onward in pomp and pride,and gazed at a scene of humble enjoyment by a cottage door.Always it was the same figure, and always depicted with an expression of deep sadness; and in every instance, slightly as they were brought out, the face and form had the traits of Miriam's own.
"Do you like these sketches better, Donatello?" asked Miriam."Yes," said Donatello rather doubtfully."Not much, I fear," responded she, laughing."And what should a boy like you--a Faun too,--know about the joys and sorrows, the intertwining light and shadow, of human life? I forgot that you were a Faun.You cannot suffer deeply; therefore you can but half enjoy.Here, now, is a subject which you can better appreciate."The sketch represented merely a rustic dance, but with such extravagance of fun as was delightful to behold; and here there was no drawback, except that strange sigh and sadness which always come when we are merriest.
"I am going to paint the picture in oils," said the artist; "and I want you, Donatello, for the wildest dancer of them all.Will you sit for me, some day?--or, rather, dance for me?""O, most gladly, signorina!" exclaimed Donatello."See; it shall be like this."And forthwith he began to dance, and flit about the studio, like an incarnate sprite of jollity, pausing at last on the extremity of one toe, as if that were the only portion of himself whereby his frisky nature could come in contact with the earth.The effect in that shadowy chamber, whence the artist had so carefully excluded the sunshine, was as enlivening as if one bright ray had contrived to shimmer in and.frolic around the walls, and finally rest just in the centre of the floor.
"That was admirable!" said Miriam, with an approving smile."If I can catch you on my canvas, it will be a glorious picture; only I am afraid you will dance out of it, by the very truth of the representation, just when I shall have given it the last touch.We will try it one of these days.And now, to reward you for that jolly exhibition, you shall see what has been shown to no one else."She went to her easel, on which was placed a picture with its backturned towards the spectator.Reversing the position, there appeared the portrait of a beautiful woman, such as one sees only two or three, if even so many times, in all a lifetime; so beautiful, that she seemed to get into your consciousness and memory, and could never afterwards be shut out, but haunted your dreams, for pleasure or for pain; holding your inner realm as a conquered territory, though without deigning to make herself at home there.
