Van Berg had scarcely ever known a day to pass more slowly and heavily than Monday.He had taken pains to be present at Ida's departure with her father,and it had depressed him unaccountably that she had been so quiet as to seem even a little cold in her farewell.She would not look towards him,nor could he catch her eye or obtain one friendly expression.He did not know that the poor girl dared not smile or speak lest she should be too friendly,and that she avoided him with the instinct of self-preservation.
His conclusion was:"She finds,after thinking it all over,that she has far more to forgive than she thought,and my presence reminds her of everything she would be glad to forget."He tried once or twice to find Jennie Burton,but did not succeed.
She made no apparent effort to avoid him,and was so cordial in her manner when they met that he had severe compunctions that he did not seek her society resolutely and press his suit."The summer is drawing to a close,"he muttered,"and nothing is settled.Confound it all!I'm the least settled of anything.The best chance I shall ever have is passing swiftly.Ever faculty I possess assures me that she is the one woman of all the world.I honor her,I reverence her,I admire her and everything she does and says.I trust her implicitly,even though she is so shrouded in mystery.What the mischief is the matter with my old water-logged heart that it should be so heavy and dumpish?"But so it was.Jennie Burton smiled on him and others as brightly as ever,and yet he knew her heart was breaking,for she was growing slighter and more spirit-like daily.His desire to comfort her,however,by a life-long effort ebbed away,till he was cursing himself for a fickle,cold-blooded wretch."I had better shut myself up in my studio,"he said to himself."I may make a painter,but Inever will anything else;"and early on Tuesday he went doggedly to work on Mr.Eltinge's picture.
His perplexed and jarring thoughts gradually ceased their discord as he became absorbed in his loved and familiar tasks.Sweet and low at first,and in the faint,broken suggestion of his kindling fancy,the symphonic poem he had heard in the garden began again,but at last his imagination made it almost real.He listened once more to Ida's girlish,plaintive voice blending with the murmur of the brook,the sighing wind and rustling leaves,and the occasional trill of a bird.He leaned back in his chair,and his eyes became full of deep and dreamy pleasure.Gradually a heavy frown contracted his brow,and his face grew white and stern as he repeated words that she once had spoken to him:"I meant to compel your respect,and I thought there was no other way.""Pharisee,fool that I was!If I had been kind and trustful at the time her family wronged her,she would not now shrink from me as if I summed up in my person the whole of that wretched experience.
Even Stanton appreciated my unutterable folly,for he said:"You looked at her in a way that would have frozen even Jezebel herself,"and now whenever I glance towards her she is reminded of that accursed stare.Would it be possible,in painting her likeness for Mr.Eltinge,to make her face so noble,womanly,and pure,that she would recognize my present estimate of her character,and so forgive me in very truth?"The care and earnestness with which he filled in the outlines of his sketch proved how zealously he would make the effort.In the afternoon he drove over to the garden again,and made a careful drawing of the tree and of Mr.Eltinge sitting beneath it,for Ida,and he determined to go to the city the following day the he might avail himself of the resources of his studio,and by the aid of this hasty sketch make as fine a crayon picture as would be possible,before her return on Saturday.
The old gentleman's heart was naturally warm towards his protege,whom they both missed greatly,and he spoke of her often.He could not help noticing that the artist was ever an excellent listener at such times and would even suspend his work for a moment that he might not lose a word."It seems to me he takes a wonderful deal of interest in her for a man who is seeking to engage himself to another lady,"mused Mr.Eltinge."I think the other lady had better be looking after him."As Van Berg approached the hotel,he saw Miss Burton mounting the steps with a quantity of ferns in her hands.She evidently was returning from a long ramble,and when she came down to supper he saw that she had not been able to remove wholly all traces of grief.
His conscience smote him sorely.He hesitated in his purpose of going to the city,and determined to speak of it frankly,and abandon it,if she showed,even by the expression of her face,that she would prefer he would remain,but he found himself both surprised and relieved that,so far from manifesting the least reluctance to have him go,she encouraged the plan.
"You have a noble theme,"she said cordially,"and you can't do it justice in the room of a summer hotel.Besides I do think you owe it to Miss Mayhew to make all the amends in your power,and a fine picture of that emblematic tree,and her kind old friend beneath it,may be of very great help to her in her new life.Ihope you will take me to see Mr.Eltinge on your return.""I'll wait over a day and take you there to-morrow,"he said promptly.
