"The tree is perfect,and oh,Mr.Eltinge,I shall always have you now,with your dear kind face turned towards me as I have seen it to-day!"Suddenly her manner changed,and in a tone full of disappointment she added,"Oh,Mr.Van Berg,how could you spoil my picture?You have put me in it.""Certainly,"he replied demurely,"you were a part of the picture.""Not a necessary part.I did not ask you to do that,"she answered,in a way that proved her feelings were hurt.
"I am willing to do more than you ask,and if you insist on it Iwill efface your image,although I should much regret to do so.""I protest against that,"cried Mr.Eltinge."So far from spoiling the picture,your being there makes it invaluable to me.I'm going to tax Mr.Van Berg's generosity,and ask for this in the hope that he will make another drawing of the old man and the tree only,for you.""Would you like to have it so very much?"said Ida,much pleased with this arrangement.
"Yes,my dear,very much indeed,and I'll place it near my favorite chimney corner,where I can see you all winter.Mr.Van Berg,I congratulate you;I'm not much of a judge of art,but this is my little friend here,true to life.You have been very happy in catching the expression which I am learning to know so well.""Your words have a fuller meaning than you think,"replied the artist,heartily."I have indeed been very happy in my work.Inever enjoyed a morning more in my life.""But I'm to go home without any picture,"said Ida,trying to hide her pleasure by assumed reproachfulness.
"There is no picture yet,for any one,"he answered,"this is only a sketch from which I shall try to make two pictures that will suggest a scene particularly attractive to one of my calling,to say the least."As he placed the sketch in his book,the work he had been engaged on that morning when Ida met him by the roadside,dropped out,and she saw herself leaning on the baluster rail of the staircase,with her hand half extended as a token of forgiveness and reconciliation.
Her cheeks flushed instantly,but she was able to remark quietly:
"I suppose that is the way you artists keep a memorandum of current events."He replied gravely,but with some answering color also:"Yes,Miss Mayhew,when the current is deep and strong."Van Berg felt himself happy in securing from Mr.Eltinge an invitation to come again.As they were riding home,Ida remarked,shyly:
"I did not know you could draw so well."
"Nor did I either before.That old garden is enchanted ground.""Yes,"said Ida,"poor Eve was driven out of the Garden of Eden,but I feel as if I had found my way into it.I only wish I could stay there,"and her sigh was long and deep.
"Does the world outside seem very full of thorns and thistles?"he asked,kindly.
After a moment she replied,simply and briefly,"Yes."He looked at her sympathetically for a moment,and then said earnestly:
"Miss Ida,pardon me if I venture a prediction.Wherever you dwell,hereafter,all that is good and beautiful in life and character which the garden typifies will begin to take the place of thorns and thistles.""I hope so,"she faltered,"but that involves bleeding hands,Mr.
Van Berg.I am not cast in heroic mould.I am weak and wavering,and as a proof I am dwelling on the very subject that I had forbidden.
I trust that you will be too manly to take advantage of my weakness henceforth and will try to help me forget myself.""That may be a harder task than you think,but I will attempt whatever you ask,"and from her pleased and interested expression it would seem that during the next half hour he succeeded remarkably well.Suddenly,as if a happy thought had struck him,he said a little abruptly:
"I foresee that you and Miss Burton are destined to become great friends.You have not yet learned what a lovely character she possesses and how broad and deep are her sympathies."Ida's silence caused him to turn and look at her,and he saw that the light and color had faded from her face,but she said,emphatically:
"Miss Burton is even more admirable than you think her to be,if that were possible.""I am pleased to hear one lady speak so strongly and generously of another.It is not usual.I shall do my utmost to make you better acquainted with each other,and in this pleasant task am sure Ishall render you a very great service."
"Mr.Van Berg,I beg you will not,"she exclaimed,hastily,and he saw with surprise that she appeared painfully embarrassed.
"Pardon me,Miss Mayhew,"he said;"I did not mean to be officious."Ida saw no way of extricating herself save by promptly changing the subject,and this she did;but she could not fail to observe that her companion was hurt by her apparent unfriendliness towards one on whom he believed he had bestowed the best a man could give.The remainder of the drive was not enjoyed by either of them as the earlier part had been,and something like constraint tinged the manner and words of both.
As they drove up to the hotel Stanton gave a low whistle of surprise,but was in no mood for his old-time banter.
