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14 INTO MARVELOUS LIQHT SYNOPSIS. John Marsden and Julian Deveaux meet at mid night on the banks of the Hudson—the former has just left the bedside of a dying man—the lat ter becomes interested in the appearance of the young preacher, and follows him witnessing the death-bed scene. A strong attraction arises in Ju lian Deveaux’s mind, and he makes occasion to see Marsden often. The discovery is made that Dexeaux is an actor, and Marsden knowing his evil repu tation, endeavors to reclaim him, although the task is distasteful to him. After some weeks of compan ionship, Deveaux decided to take a trip South on business and pleasure, and the scene is changed. . .A charming word picture is next drawn of a fam ily living in the mountains of Tennessee—John Ben net, his wife and little granddaughter. The latter being just seven years old, her father decides to take her to his own home near Monteagle, and the parting, a sad one for the grandparents, is a joy ous occasion for the child Christiana, who adores her father, John Douglas. CHAPTER VI. The years soon passed that brought to Christiana Douglas her seventeenth birthday. Her cheeks were rose tinted, her lips seemed made to smile, her voice to laugh, her glorious brown eyes to twinkle with happiness, and her beautiful curls to dance about her shapely shoulders. Her father’s artistic eye fed upon her beauty almost to idolatry. His. best work of art was a life size portrait of her. "Very early she had developed wonderful artistic talent herself, so the hope of her father’s heart was that she might one day become an artist of note. Monteagle was blessed with unusual intellectual advantages for such a small village, situated so far away in the mountains. It had an excellent school, Fairmount School for Girls. For some years a Chau tauqua Assembly had chosen this location. The sit uation on the Cumberland Plateau, 2,200 feet above the level of the sea, and 1,000 feet above the sur rounding country, is believed to be one of the finest in the land and to afford advantages of untold value to those seeking health, rest, pleasure or intellec tual pursuits. From the cliffs near by are presented most charming views of the valleys and adjacent mountains. Years ago when this beautiful spot be came known to the outside world, large hotels were built to accommodate those who resorted there. A railroad became a necessity, and each summer car ried thousands of people up to this garden of Eden. In this way Christiana Douglas became associated with the outside world, though she had never trav eled beyond the limits of her own state. She did not care especially for her school life, though to please her "father she had stood well in her classes, and had just been graduated. She had some musical ability, and a voice of rare sweetness.’But the hap piest hours of her life were spent in her father’s studio under his tuition, or in roaming the tower ing mountains, sketching from nature in all its beauty. She loved those mountains and valleys as if they were human companions. They inspired her as nothing else did. The great trees seemed to move with real life as they swayed to and fro above and about her. The winds blowing through the swaying boughs seemed to her spirit-voices telling her fairy tales. She was still nature’s own child. She had not yet stepped over the brink where girlhood and wo manhood meet. Her father was ambitious for her. He had advanced her as far as he and other artists at Monteagle were able. She would not listen to being sent away to a distant city where she would be separated from him. When the subject was men tioned, she would always remind him of his prom ise never to separate from her. This late in life, would it be wise for him to move to some distant city, and endeavor to establish a repute* : on for himself and Christiana in broader fields? Would he dare risk his financial success in p, great city where there would be so much compe- The Golden Age for March 22, 1906. By LLEWELYN ST EP HENS. tition? This was the question that was almost de stroying his peace of mind. One afternoon a card was sent in which read, “Julian Deveaux, New York City, Art Studio, Fifth Avenue.” Mr. Douglas looked at it with a feeling of great curiosity. The first thoughts that leaped to his brain were: “This must be an artist. Perhaps I can gain some information from him that will aid me in deciding upon plans.” With unusual interest he went to meet his visitor. He confronted the most striking looking man he had "ever seen, one tall in stature and graceful in form. There was something in his movements that at first gave Mr. Douglas the inclination to recoil from him, yet, when he studied the countenance, his gaze lingered, and he thought, “I like that face.” As Mr. Douglas held out his hand, Deveaux bow ed over it with courtly grace, and said, “A common interest, love of art, has caused a stranger to in trude himself upon you. May I hope that this mu tual interest may be the means of banishing from us the meaning of the word 1 stranger.' ” 'W r -1 I> ■ f « . ; .gE *" ►* ... ' ■ . I T Far W- > www I ■ I' WK «... ■ hsr wiP* 1 I ■' I I - * •»>'. s I ■ i “As she looked the first day I sa-tv her. ” “With all my heart,” exclaimed Mr. Douglas. “I extend to you a warm welcome. With such a tie we are no longer strangers.” Mr. Douglas was not a keen, far-sighted man of the world, but. was a cordial, true, upright and home loving man, believing all men honest until they proved themselves otherwise. Acting upon this principle, he opened his home to Deveaux. He had at once discovered him to be a very talented artist and was deeply appreciative of his criticisms and suggestions. He offered him the use of his studio whenever he might wish it, which courtesy was cor dially accepted. Neither Mrs. Wayland nor Christiana met Mr. Deveaux until one evening Mr. Douglas invited him to stop for tea. He was seated opposite Christiana at the table, and made himself most entertaining. He was the first man of the great wide world whom Christiana had ever known. He talked of just such subjects, and in his fascinating way, as would broad en her mental horizon, and arouse her dormant am bitions. With emotions he had not experienced since his youth, he noted the sparkling animation of her glorious eyes. He was startled by his own sensa tions, and when alone endeavored to analyze them, thus soliloquizing: “Is it possible that my artistic eye is carrying me beyond all bounds of reason over the beauty of a simple village maiden, in fact a mere child? I must be allowed to paint her, though, just as she looked the first day I saw her as she walked by the window where I was sitting. In her hands she was swinging a quaint little white bonnet. Her dark curls had strayed over her broad, white forehead. Never before had I seen such a picture as she presented that day. I had to rub my eyes to see that I was not dreaming. I see she is kept as a hot-house plant, so I must use every precaution to gain the coveted prize. But I swear I must have that picture. But, he cautious, be cautious, renewed fire of my youth, lest some impulse betray you, and the coveted flower be snatched from your grasp.” Quite different were Christiana’s meditations. It was not the man who made any impression upon her, but what he said. New aspirations were aroused in her. Her peace and contentment with simple vil lage life had taken wings and flown in one short evening. In one fleeting hour the child blossomed into a woman. She longed to see the great world and its wonderful cities, peopled with every nation ality, with their vast palaces and temples and mas terpieces of art. She longed to ride upon the ocean. She dreamed of painting a masterpiece herself. It was Mrs. Wayland who mistrusted Deveaux. She understood Christiana so well, she, too, read the new emotions he had aroused in her. Deveaux partially perceived Mrs. Wayland’s distrust, and with a shrug of annoyance thought to himself, “A great obstacle to overcome is this watchful aunt. I must endeavor to discover if she have any vulnera ble spot.” Accordingly he began discoursing upon the peace and happiness of sweet village life, the hollow mockery and misery of the outside world, and of how he often longed for a spot where he might obliterate the past and begin life anew. Di rectly addressing Mrs. Wayland, he said: “The life of your happy family is ideal. You would be wise never to change it.” Mrs. Wayland was partially disarmed, and, for the time, gave no expression to her feeling of dis like for Mr. Deveaux. He saw that he had gained some advantage, and went away quite satisfied with the progress of his plans to have Christiana sit for her portrait. CHAPTER VII. Mr. Douglas soon laid before Deveaux all his hopes and plans, and the latter eagerly pictured to him the rare opportunities which New York afforded, offered him the free use of his studio, and assured him of success. He was overcome with gratitude. Mr. Deveaux thought himself safe in venturing another step, for since Mr. Douglas’ foremost desire was for Chris tiana’s success as an artist, he asked that he might have the privilege of giving her lessons in return for the use of her father’s studio. Mr. Douglas replied, “Indeed, it is I who am in debted to you for the great help you have been to me. You have conferred a great favor upon me by using my studio.” Since you will have it so, would you allow your daughter to sit for her portrait in return for the lessons I may give her?” As Deveaux asked this question which had been on the tip of his tongue for many days, he wonder ed why the answer seemed of so much importance to himself. Mr. Douglas did not answer immediately. He looked directly into Mr. Deveaux’s face, causing it to crimson. It had never occurred to him that a man of Mr. Deveaux’ age and experience was infatuated with his daughter’s beauty. To him she was still the little girl who sat upon his knee at the old homestead the day she was seven times one. He grasped Deveaux’s hand, exclaiming: “Would you do so much for me? How could I ever repay you?” “My dear man,” returned Mr. Deveaux, “don’t you know that a picture of that beautiful child would give me world-wide fame? She is simply per fect.” “Ah, well, I had not expected other eyes to look