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swans。〃



〃You　mention　the　cigar…stand　first。〃



〃Why　not？　　Smoke　is　more　real　than　empty　sound。〃



〃Are　you　not　equally　empty；　Ik；　save　after　dinner？　　How　have　the

preceding　hours　of　this　long　day　been　killed？〃



〃Like　boas。　　They　have　enfolded　me　with　a　weary　weight。〃



〃The　snakes　in　your　comparison　are　larger　than　your　pun；　and　the

pun；　rather　than　yourself；　suggests　a　constrictor's　squeeze。〃



〃Come；　you　are　only　abusing　me　to　gain　time；　and　you　may　gain　too

much。　　My　horses　have　more　mettle　than　their　master；　and　may　carry

off　my　trap　and　groom　to　parts　unknown；　while　you　are　wasting

paint　and　words。　　You　are　like　the　animals　at　the　Park；　that　are

good…natured　only　after　they　are　fed。　　So　shut　up　your　old　paint

shop；　and　come　along；　we　will　shorten　our　ride　and　lengthen　our

dinner。〃



With　mutual　chaffing　and　laughter　the　young　men　at　last　went　down

to　where　a　liveried　coachman　and　a　pair　of　handsome　bays　were　in

waiting。　　Taking　the　high　front　seat　and　gathering　up　the　reins；　Ik

Stanton；　with　his　friend　Harold　Van　Berg　at　his　side；　bowled　away

towards　the　Park　at　a　rapid　pace。



Harold　Van　Berg　was；　in　truth；　something　of　a　paradox。　　He　was　an

artist；　and　yet　was　rich；　he　had　inherited　large　wealth；　and　yet

had　formed　habits　of　careful　industry。　　The　majority　of　his　young

acquaintances；　who　had　been　launched　from　homes　like　his　own；　were

known　only　as　sons　of　their　fathers；　and　degenerate　sons　at　that。

Van　Berg　was　already　winning　a　place　among　men　on　the　ground　of

what　he　was　and　could　do　himself。



It　were　hard　to　say　which　was　the　stronger　motive；　his　ambition　or

the　love　of　his　art；　but　it　seemed　certain　that　between　the　two；

such　talent　as　he　had　been　endowed　with　would　be　developed　quite

thoroughly。　　And　he　did　possess　decided　talent；　if　not　genius。　　But

his　artistic　gift　accorded　with　his　character；　and　was　controlled

by　judgement；　correct　taste；　and　intellectuality　rather　than　by

strong　and　erratic　impulses。　　His　aims　were　definite　and　decided

rather　than　vague　and　diffusive；　but　his　standards　were　so　high

that；　thus　far；　he　had　scarcely　attempted　more　than　studies　that

were　like　the　musician's　scales　by　which　he　seeks　to　acquire　a

skill　in　touch　that　shall　enable　him　to　render　justly　the　works　of

the　great　composers。



His　family　had　praised　his　work　unstintedly；　and　honestly　thought

it　wonderful；　he　had　also　been　deluged　with　that　kind　of　flattery

which　relaxes　the　rules　of　criticism　in　favor　of　the　wealthy。　　Thus

it　was　not　strange　that　the　young　fellow；　at　one　time；　believed

that　he　was　born　to　greatness　by　a　kindly　decree　of　fate。　　But　as

his　horizon　widened　he　was　taught　better。　　His　mind；　fortunately；

grew　faster　than　his　vanity；　and　as　he　compared　his　crude　but

promising　work　with　that　of　mature　genius；　he　was　not　stricken

with　that　most　helpless　phase　of　blindnessthe　inability　to　see

the　superiority　of　others　to　one's　self。　　Every　day；　therefore；

of　study　and　observation　was　now　chastening　Harold　Van　Berg　and

preparing　him　to　build　his　future　success　on　the　solid　ground　of

positive　merit　as　compared　with　that　of　other　and　gifted　artists。



Van　Berg's　taste　and　talent　led　him　to　select；　as　his　specialty；

the　human　form　and　countenance；　and　he　chiefly　delighted　in　those

faces　which　were　expressive　of　some　striking　or　subtle　characteristic

of　the　indwelling　mind。　　He　would　never　be　content　to　paint　surfaces

correctly；　giving　to　features　merely　their　exact　proportions。　　Whether

the　face　were　historical；　ideal；　or　a　portrait；　the　controlling

trait　or　traits　of　the　spirit　within　must　shine　through；　or　else

he　regarded　the　picture　as　scarcely　half　finished。



A　more　sincere　idolator　than　Van　Berg；　in　his　worship　of　beauty；

never　existed；　but　it　was　the　beauty　of　a　complete　man　or　a　complete

woman。　　Even　in　his　early　youth　he　had　not　been　so　sensuous　as　to

be　captivated　by　that　opaque　fragment　of　a　womanan　attractive

form　devoid　of　a　mind。　　Indeed　with　the　exception　of　a　few　boyish

follies；　his　art　had　been　his　mistress　thus　far；　and　it　was　beginning

to　absorb　both　heart　and　brain。



With　what　a　quiet　pulsewith　what　a　complacent　sense　of　security

we　often　meet　those　seemingly　trivial　events　which　may　change　the

whole　character　of　our　lives！　　The　ride　had　been　taken；　the　dinner

enjoyed；　and　the　two　friends　were　seated　in　the　large　cool　hallway

off　the　concert　garden；　where　they　could　smoke　without　offence。　　The

unrivalled　leader；　Thomas；　had　just　lifted　his　batonthat　magic

wand　whose　graceful　yet　mysterious　motion　evokes　with　equal　ease；

seemingly；　the　thunder　of　a　storm；　the　song　of　a　bird；　the　horrid

din　of　an　inferno；　or　a　harmony　so　pure　and　lofty　as　to　suggest

heavenly　strains。　　One　of　Beethoven's　exquisite　symphonies　was　to

be　rendered；　and　Van　Berg　threw　away　his　half…burned　cigar；　settled

himself　in　his　chair　and　glanced　around　with　a　congratulatory　air；

as　if　to　say；　〃Now　we　are　to　have　one　of　those　pleasures　which

fills　the　cup　of　life　to　overflowing。〃



Oh；　that　casual　glance！　　It　was　one　of　those　things　that　we　might

justly　call　〃little。〃　　Could　anything　have　been　more　trivial；

slight；　and　apparently　inconsequential　than　this　half　involuntary

act？　　Indeed　it　was　too　aimless　even　to　have　been　prompted　by　a

conscious　effort　of　the　will。　　But　this　book　is　one　of　the　least

results　of　that　momentary　sweep　of　the　eye。　　Another　was；　that　Van

Berg　did　not　enjoy　the　symphony　at　all；　and　was　soon　in　a　very　bad

humor。　　That　casual　glance　had　revealed；　not　far　away；　a　face　that

with　his　passion　for　beauty；　at　once　riveted　his　attention。　　His

slight　start　and　faint　exclamation；　caused　Ik　Stanton　to　look　around

also；　and　then；　with　a　mischievous　and　observant　twinkle　in　his

eyes；　the　bon　vivant　resumed　his　cigar；　which　no　symphony　could

exorcise　from　his　mouth。



At　a　table　just　within　the　main　audience　room；　there　sat　a　young

lady　and　gentleman。　　Even　Van　berg；　who　made　it　his　business　to

discover　and　study　beauty；　was　soon　compelled　to　admit　to　himself

that　he　had　never　seen　finer　features　than　were　possessed　by　this

fair　young　stranger。　　Her　nose　was　straight；　her　upper　lip　was

short；　and　might　have　been　modelled　from　Cupid's　bow；　her　chin　did

not　form　a　perfect　oval　after　the　cold　and　severe　Grecian　type；　but

was　slightly　firm　and　prominent；　receding　with　decided　yet　exquisite

curves　to　the　full　white　throat。　　Her　cheeks　had　a　transparent

fairness；　in　which　the　color　came　and　went　instead　of　lingering

in　any　conventional　place　and　manner；　her　hair　was　too　light　to　be

called　brown　and　too　dark　to　be　golden；　but　was　shaded　like　that　on

which　the　sunlight　falls　in　one　of　Bougereau's　pictures　of　〃Mother

and　Child；〃　and　it　rippled　away　from　a　broad　low　brow　in　natural

waves；　half　hiding　the　small；　shell…like　ears。



Van　Berg　at　first　though　her　eyes　to　be　her　finest　feature；　but

he　soon　regarded　them　as　the　worst；　and　for　the　same　reason；　as　he

speedily　discovered；　that　the　face；　each　feature　of　which　seemed

perfect；　became；　after　brief　study；　so　unsatisfactory　as　to　cause

positive　annoyance。　　To　a　passing　glance　they　were　large；　dark；

beautiful　eyes；　but　they　lost　steadily　under　thoughtful　scrutiny。

A　flashing　gem　may　seem　real　at　first；　but　as　its　meretricious　rays

are　analyzed；　they　lose　their　charm　because　revealing　a　stone　not

only　worthless　worse　than　worthless；　since　it　mocks　us　with　a　false

resemblance；　thus　raising　hopes　only　to　disappoint　them。　　The　other

features　remained　beautiful　and　satisfactory　to　Van　Berg's　furtive

observation　because　further　removed　from　the　informing　mind；　and

therefore　more　justly　capable　of　admiration　upon　their　own　merits；

but　the　eyes　are　too　near　akin　to　the　animating　spirit　not　to　suffer

from　the　relationship；　should　the　spirit　be　essentially　defective。



That　the　beautiful　face　was　but　a　transparent　mask　of　a　deformed；

dwarfed；　contemptible　little　soul　was　speedily　made　evident。　　The

cream　and　a　silly　flirtation　with　her　empty…headed　attendanta

pallid　youth　who　parted　his　hair　like　a　girl　and　had　not　other　parts

worth　namingabsorbed　her　wholly；　and　the　exquisite　symphony　was

no　more　to　her　than　an　annoying　din　which　made　it　difficult　to　hear

her　companion's　compliments　that　were　as　sweet；　heavy；　and　stale

as　Mailard's　chocolates；　left　a　year　on　the　shelves。　　Their　mutual

giggle　and　chatter　at　last　became　so　obtrusive　that　an　old　and

music…loving　German　turned　his　broad　face　towards　them；　and　hissed

out　the　word　〃Hist！〃　with　such　vindictive　force　as　to　suggest　that

all　the　winds　had　suddenly　broken　lose　from　the　cave　of　Aeolus。



Ik　Stanton；　who　had　been　watching　Van　Berg's　perturbed；　lowering

face；　and　the　weak　comedy　at　the　adjacent　table；　was　obviously　much

amused；　although　he　took　pains　to　appear　blind　to　it　all　and　kept

his　back；　as　far　as　possible；　towards　the　young　lady。



The　German's　〃hist〃　had　been　so　fierce　as　to　be　almost　l