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SATURDAY, OCTORER 2 1914
THE DINGBAT FAMILY
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THE. DREAM FACE
CHAPTER Vl—Continued.
The young artist set his teeth with
the same grim determination that had
made him burn his beats and come to
the city a penniless, unknown artist,
In a year's time, he told himself, he
would ask Cynthia Rayne to marry
him,
During the painting of the portrait
he had allowed no one to see it, rot
efen Mr. Rayne. Vincent Rayne had
denounced this decision as a piece of
artistic affectation, and asked his un
cle not to give in to the “fellow’s
nerve,” as he expressed it.
Mr. Rayne only admired Maurice
the more for his artistic independ
ence; in his eyes it proved that the
young man was worthy of his genius.
He was enough of an artist to Know
that nothing hindered the progress of
a portrait so much as a crowd of rela
tives commenting on every change in
a portrait and exasperating the artist
with foolish and ignorant criticism
and suggestions. lew men, however,
had the courage to deny them all ac
mittance~to the studio, to ignore all
right to help in deciding the pose or
the costume to be worn, as Maurice
had done, and the old connoisseur re
spected him for it
At length the portrait was com
plete; Maurice had given it the last
touches and awaited the arrival of
Cynthia's father.
The door was opened and shut down
below, and the sound of voices came
floating up the sta‘rs. They had come.
Vanrice altered the position of the
portrait to obtain what he thought
wus a petier light, then went forward
to greet his visitors.
Immediately they entered the room
he felt instinctively that something
gerious had happened since yesterday
morning, when he had seen Cynthia
last. .
ae airl’s eves had lost their geren
ity; she was pale, not with the white
ruse pailor he joved, but with a drawn
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whiteness indicative of suffering that
made his heart ache.
There was a change in Vincent
Rayne's manner, too. If Cynthia was
miserable, he was evidently sulky. His
self-satisfied appearance had given
place to a hang-dog look.
Maurice was puzzled te account for
the double change until an idea came
to him.
“Rayne has proposed to Cynthia,
and she has refused him,” he thought.
With the thought pity for Vincent
sprang up within him. So conscious
was he of that undercurrent of sym
pathy between Cynthia and himself
that he could afford to pity Rayne’s
heir.
It was with a sense of secret and
triumphant possesgion that he direct
ed his visitors’ attention to .the per
trait.
Althoigh it would hang on John
Rayne's wall, the portrait, after all,
was his own, just as “The Dream
Face” was his own—the ¢child of his
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THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN
genius. Some day he would hold the
original in his arms!
A Simple Portrait.
It was a very simbple portrait;
there was no elaboration of costume
or background. To Maurice it was
impossibie to paint Cynthia Rayne as
an ordinary society beauty. To him
she recalled the old legehds when the
gods and goddesses of Greece walked
among mortals. Most of all did .she
seern the embodiment of the moon
goddess, who in the beautiful old story
fell in love with ‘a mortal, and who
bent down from the starry heavens
to embrace the sleeping shepherd upon
the hillside. .
Although the portrait was so sim
ple, it held a suggestion of Maurice’s
fancy within it. Cynthia was robed
in cloudy draperies of blue and gray,
whieh Maurice had specially designed
for her, and behind her stretched a
twilight sky.
Nothing could have been more in
harmony with her elusive beauty, and
Mr. Rayne was frankly delighted.
There Is a Time to Brag and Also a Time to Keep Mighty Quiet
A Romantic Novelette of Art and Love
“It is the most successful portrait T
have ever seen of my caughter!” he
said to Maurice. “All the others some
how seem to make her commonplace,
merely ordinary; but this—it is Cyn
thia herself!”
“Poo much of a fancy portrait for
me,” sald Vincent, ungraciously. “It
ought to be dubbed ‘The Spirit of
Night,’ or something of that sort.”
He seemed to divine the artist's
feelings toward Cynthia and to take a
malicious pleasure in wounding him.
“Perhaps that is why it is so sat
isfactory as a portrait,” said his un
ole, thoughtfully. “One of the other
portraits was in court dress and ane
other in ordinary dress; this seems to
have captured Cynthin's personality.”
He turned to Maurice as the latter
began to veil the portrait once more.
“Well, when can you send. it?"” he
asked.
“As soon a§ you wisa it; it is quite
dry,” replied the artist,
“Po-morrow, then, I should be glad
if you would come over in the after
He Didn’t Think Much of His Own Summer
Never Take a Job Till You Know What It is
It Was a Great Sight While It Lasted
‘noon and help me to declde upon the
hanging and dine with us later. AS
1 am =0 soon to lose the original,” he
added, whumsically, “I want her moun
terpart to be placed securely.”
Maurice turned sharply from the
portrait. His face had become white.
He glanced quickly from one to the
other,
Uynthia was gazing Intently at the
portrait and seemed not to have heard
her father’'s words. Vincent's eyes
were fixed on Maurice, and the sud
ders gloom of his face had given
\p!afi‘o to a grin of malice. It was as
if in the midst of his own predica
ment he found at least some satie
faction in Maurice’'s chagrin, Mr.
‘Rayne was looking for his hat and
stick, ard now held out his hand ir
cordial farewell.
A minute later the little party had
gone, leaving Maurice standing alone,
pale and motionless.
“Ag I am 80 soon to lose the origi
nal!” What could it mean? She
must be going abroad for a change.
Perhaps she contemplated a long stay
on the continent? Perhaps she meant
to go even farther afield, to South
Africa or ¢ America?
Married? No, not yet! It was im~
possible she was going to be married
—impossible! She belonged to him!
Maurice remembered how one day
during the first stages of the portrait
she had said something to him of the
pride his own family and friends must
feel over his success, and he saw
again the look in her eyes, a look of
tender sympathy and pity, as he told
her of the mother who had longed to
see his talents come to fruition, but
whose death had set him free to
starve or to succeed.
“SO, you see, there is no one to care
about my success now. I have no
family and no friends, with the ex
ception of Northland,” he had added
as an afterthought.
“And us,” she had said, and shad
bent forward eagerly. “You will let
us be your friends, too, will you not?”
Then, as his glance and smile had
gone to her in response, &he Tvd
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flushed, that exquisite rose flush which
came so rarely, and which had set
Maurice’'s heart beating fast as he
realized that It was for him and tor
him alone.
The young antist waited for the fol
lowing afternoon in feverish impa
tience, H{w tormenting doubts would
not be set at rest until he knew the
truth.
Mr. Rayne received him with his
accustomed cordiality. The nictnra
was to be placed in his study, and
after much deliberation the rignt spot
and light were chosen.
(To Be Continued.) .