CHAPTER XIX
WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH HIM?
The sun was just tingeing the eastern horizon with light when Dennissprang from his bed on the following morning. He vowed that Miss Ludolphshould never have cause to complain of him again; for, great as wasthe luxury of being awakened by such exquisite music, it was one thathe could not afford.
It must be confessed that he gave a little more care than usual thatmorning to his toilet; but his resources were very limited. Still, asnature had done so much for him, he could not complain. By half-pastsix his duties in the store were accomplished, and brushed and furbishedup as far as possible, he stood outside the door awaiting his fairtask-mistress. Sometimes he wondered at the strange fascination sheexercised over him, but generally ended by ascribing it to her beautyand love of art.
A little after the time appointed she appeared with her father, andseemed pleased at Dennis's readiness for work.
"I shall not have to sing you awake this morning," she said, "and Iam glad, for I am in a mood for business."
She was attired in a close-fitting walking-dress that set off hergraceful person finely. It was evident that her energetic nature wouldpermit no statuesque repose while Dennis worked, but that she had comeprepared for active measures.
She had inherited a good constitution, which, under her father'sdirection, had been strengthened and confirmed by due regard to hygienicrules. Therefore she had reached the stage of early womanhood aboundingin vitality and capable of great endurance. Active, graceful motionwas as natural to her as it is for a swallow to be on the wing. Themoment she dropped her book, palette, or pencil, she was on her feet,her healthful nature seeming like a mountain brook, that, checked fora time in its flow, soon overleaps its bounds and speeds on more swiftlythan ever. But the strange part of this superabundant activity was,that she never seemed to do anything in an abrupt way, as from mereimpulse. Every act glided into another smoothly and gracefully. Herlithe, willowy figure, neither slight nor stout, was peculiarly adaptedto her style of movement. She delighted in the game of billiards, forthe quick movements and varied attitudes permitted, and the precisionrequired, were all suited to her taste; and she had gained suchmarvellous skill that even her father, with his practiced hand, wasscarcely her match.
As she tripped lightly up the long winding stairs to the show-roomover the front door where their labors were to begin, she appeared toDennis the very embodiment of grace and beauty. And yet she seemed socold and self-centred, so devoid of warm human interest in the greatworld of love, joy, and suffering, that she repelled while shefascinated.
"If the blood should come into the cheeks of one of her father'sstatues, and the white marble eyes turn to violet blue, and the snowyhair to wavy gold, and it should spring from its pedestal into justsuch life, it would be more like her than any woman I ever saw," thoughtDennis, as he stood for a moment or two waiting to do her bidding.
Her plans had been thoroughly matured, and she acted with decision.Pointing to the side opposite the door--the side which would naturallystrike the eye of the visitor first--she said, "I wish all the picturestaken down from that wall and placed around the room so that I can seethem."
She began as an absolute dictator, intending to give no hint of herplans and purposes except as conveyed by clear, terse orders. But thesehad so intelligent and appreciative an interpreter in Dennis, thatgradually her attention was drawn to him as well as to his work.
He had his step-ladder ready, and with a celerity decidedly pleasing,soon placed the pictures safely on the floor, so that she could stillsee them and judge of their character. Though his dexterous manner andcareful handling of the pictures were gratifying, it must be confessedthat his supple form, the graceful and varied attitudes he unconsciouslyassumed in his work, pleased her more, and she secretly began to studyhim as an artistic subject, as he had studied her.
In her complacency she said: "So far, very well, Mr. Fleet. Icongratulate myself that I have you to assist me, instead of thatawkward fraud, Mr. Berder."
"And I assure you, Miss Ludolph, that I have longed intensely for thisprivilege ever since I knew your purpose."
"You may have cause to repent, like many another whose wishes havebeen gratified; for your privilege will involve a great deal of hardwork."
"The more the better," said Dennis, warmly.
"How so? I should think you had more to do now than you would careabout."
"Work is no burden to one of my years and strength, provided it issuited to one's tastes. Moreover, I confess that I hope to derive greatadvantages from this labor."
"In what way?" she asked, with a slight frown, imagining that hethought of extra pay.
"Because unconsciously you will give me instruction, and I hope thatyou are not unwilling that I should gain such hints and suggestionsas I can from the display of your taste that I must witness."
"Not at all," said she, laughing. "I see that you are ambitious tolearn your business and rise in the store."
"I am ambitious to gain a knowledge of one of the noblest callings."
"What is that?"
"Art."
"What!" said she, with a half-scornful smile; "are you a disciple ofart?"
"Yes; why not?"
"Well, I do not wish to hurt your feelings, but, to tell you the honesttruth, it seems but the other day that you were Pat Murphy."
"But am I a Pat Murphy?" he asked, with gentle dignity.
"No, Mr. Fleet; I will do you the justice to say that I think you verymuch above your station."
"I am sufficiently a democrat, Miss Ludolph, to believe that a man canbe a man in any honest work."
"And I, Mr. Fleet, am not in the least degree a democrat."
Which fact she proceeded to prove by ordering him about for the nexthour like the most absolute little despot that ever queened it overa servile province in the dark ages. Bat it was rather difficult tokeep up this style of dictatorship with Dennis. He seemed so intelligentand polite that she often had it to her tongue to ask his opinion oncertain points. Toward the last she did so, and the opinion he gave,she admitted to herself, was judicious; but for a purpose of her ownshe disregarded it, and took a different way.
Dennis at once saw through her plan of arrangement. In the centre ofthat side of the room which he had cleared, she caused him to hang oneof the largest and finest pictures, which, under Mr. Schwartz'smanagement, had been placed in a corner. Around the central paintingall the others were to be grouped, according to color, subject, andmerit. At the same time each wall was to have a character of its own.Such a task as this would require no little thought, study, andcomparison; and Miss Ludolph was one to see delicate points ofdifference which most observers would not notice. It was her purposeto make the room bloom out naturally like a great flower. This carefulselection of pictures was necessarily slow, and Dennis rejoiced thattheir united work would not soon be over.
To her surprise she often saw his eyes instinctively turning to thesame picture that she was about to select, and perceived that he haddivined her plan without a word of explanation, and that his taste wasconstantly according with hers in producing the desired effects. Thoughall this filled her with astonishment, she revealed no sign of it tohim. At eight she said: "That will do for to-day. We have made a goodbeginning--better indeed than I had hoped. But how is it, Mr. Fleet,since you are such an uncompromising democrat, that you permit a younglady to order you about in this style?"
Dennis smiled and said: "It seems perfectly natural for you to speakin this way, and it does not appear offensive as it might in another.Moreover, I have voluntarily taken this position and am in honor boundto accept all it involves."
"But which was the controlling motive of your mind?"
"Well, a few seem born to command, and it is a pleasure to obey," saidDennis, paying a strong but honest compliment to the natural littleautocrat.
"Indeed, Mr. Fleet, do church members flatter?" said she, secretlymuch pleased.
"I did
not mean to flatter," said he, flushing. "They who have powershould use it like the All-powerful--gently, considerately."
It was her turn to flush now, and she said, "Oh, I perceive, thecompliment was the sugar-coating of the little homily to follow."
"I have no such diplomacy as you credit me with," said Dennis, lookingstraight into her eyes with honest frankness. "I merely spoke my passingthought."
"But he has fine eyes," said she to herself, and then she said to him:"Very well, I certainly will give you credit for being superior toyour position. Be ready again to-morrow at the same hour;" and witha smile somewhat kindly she vanished.
Somehow she seemed to take the light out of the room with her. Thepictures suddenly looked tame and ordinary, and everything commonplace.Here was an effect not exactly artistic, which he could not understand.He sighed, he scarcely knew why.
But the day's duties came with a rush, and soon he was utterly absorbedin them.
That evening Dennis was much cheered by Mr. Bruder's comments on hissketches.
"Considering de advantages you haf had, an de little time you can give,dey are very goot. You haf fallen into de natural faults of dose whowork alone, but we can soon cure dese. Now here is some vork dat Ivant you to do under my eye, and dat study on outlining you can takehome. Moreover, I can give you some lessons in outlining from my ownpicture;" and Mr. Bruder showed him what he had done.
Dennis saw in the clear, vigorous profile the artist's thought, andcongratulated himself that his teacher was a master in his profession.
For two hours they worked and talked, and Dennis felt that every suchlesson would be a long step forward.
Poor Bruder looked more and more like himself every day, but God onlyknew how he had to struggle.
"I don't know how him vill end," he said. "I pray nearly every minute,but sometimes I feel dat I must drink even do' I die dat moment."
It was disease as well as appetite that he was fighting, for appetiteindulged beyond a certain point becomes disease.
His wife's face was different also--the sharp look of misery fadingout of it. Dennis noticed the changes, and thought to himself, whilewalking home: "After all, the highest art is to bring out on the livingface all we can of God's lost image. How beautiful the changes in thesetwo poor people's faces! and the best part of it is, that they are thereflex of changes going on in the soul, the imperishable part."
Then, in quick and natural transition, his mind reverted to ChristineLudolph; and the thought of her face, which God had fashioned so fair,but which was already sadly marred by sin, becoming fixed and rigidin pride and selfishness, was as painful as if, according to an oldlegend, her lithe, active form should gradually turn to stone. But ifthe reverse could ever be true--if the beautifying Christian gracescould dwell within her soul and light up her face--as lamps illuminingsome rare and quaint transparency, the resulting loveliness wouldrealize the artist's fondest ideal.
Musing thus, what wonder that he vowed then and there, under thestarlight, to pray and work for her till the new life should illumineher heart. Little dreamed Christine, as she slept that night, that thefirst link of a chain which might bind her to heaven had been forged.
The dawn was late and lowering on the following morning. Great massesof clouds swept across the sky, and soon the rain was falling in gustytorrents. Dennis rose and hastened through his duties as before, andwas ready at the hour appointed, but had little hope of seeing MissLudolph. Still he opened the door and looked up the street. To hissurprise he saw her coming, attended by her father's valet. Only partof her glowing face was visible, for she was incased from head to footin a light and delicate suit of rubber.
Dennis opened the door, and she stepped quickly in, scattering sprayon every side like a sea-nymph. The young man looked at her withopen-eyed admiration and surprise, which both amused and pleased her.
"True enough," she thought, "his face is like a signboard."
She seemed to him, as she threw off her wet coverings, like an exquisiteflower, that, lifted by the breeze after a storm, scatters theburdensome rain-drops on every side and stands up more beautiful andblooming than ever.
"You were not expecting me, I imagine," she said.
"Well, I must admit I scarcely did, and yet I could not help lookingfor you."
"Isn't that a distinction without a difference?" she asked, with apleasant smile, for she was gratified at not finding the store closedand dark.
"I am very glad you have come," he replied, flushing slightly withpleasure, "for it would have been a long, dreary morning if you hadnot."
Dennis thought he referred to the lack of occupation. He did not know,nor did she notice, that he meant the lack of herself.
"Well," said she, "I am glad you like the work, for you destined tohave enough of it."