A Face Illumined
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第14章 Spite.(1)

Miss Mayhew apparently had not given a single glance to the artist,as he sat opposite to her and but a little out of earshot.Indeed,so well did she simulate unconsciousness of his presence,that were if not for an occasional glance from Mrs.Mayhew he might have thought himself unnoticed;but something in that lady's manner,as caught by occasional glances,led him to suspect that he was the subject of their conversation.

But Ida's indifference was,in truth,only seeming;for although she never looked directly at him,she subjected his image,which was constantly flitting across the retina of her eye,to the closest scrutiny,and no act or expression of his escaped her.She was piqued by the fact that he showed no disturbed consciousness of her presence,and that his glance was occasionally as free and natural towards her as towards any other guest of the house.His bearing annoyed her excessively,for it seemed an easy and quiet assertion of indifference and superiority--two manifestations that were to her as objectionable as unusual.Neither in looks nor manner did she appear very agreeable during the brief time she spent in the public parlors.The guests of the house,even to the ladies who foresaw an eclipse of their own charms,were compelled to admit that she was very pretty;but it was a general remark that her face did not make or leave a pleasant impression.

Van Berg surmised that Stanton's disposition to teaze and banter would lead him to repeat and,perhaps,distort,anything he might say concerning the young lady,so he made no reference whatever to the Mayhews,but took pains to give the impression that he was deeply interested in the scenery.

"I shall probably be off with my sketch-book before you are up,"he said;"for if I remember correctly,you are up with the lark only when you have been up over-night.""You are the greater sinner of the two,"yawned Stanton;"for if Ioccasionally keep unseasonable hours at night,you do so habitually in the morning.Either you are not as brilliant as usual this evening,or else the country air makes me drowsy.Good-night.We will take a ride to-morrow,and you can sketch five miles of fence if you find that you cannot resist your mania for work."Perhaps Stanton HAD found his friend slightly preoccupied,for,in spite of the constraint he had put upon himself to appear as usual,this second and closer view of the face which had taken so strong a hold upon his fancy did not dissipate his first impressions.

Indeed,they were deepened rather,for he saw again and more clearly the same marvellous capabilities in the features,and also their exasperating failure to make a beautiful face.

He dreamed over his project some little time after his friend had retired,and the conclusion of his revery was:

"I must soon make some progress in my experiment or else decamp,for that girl's contradictory face is a constant incentive to profanity."After seeing Mrs.Mayhew,however,he felt that justice required him to admit that the daughter was a natural and logical sequence;and in the mother he saw an element more hopelessly inartistic and disheartening than anything in the girl herself;for even if the latter could be changed,would not the shadow of the stout and dressy mother ever fall athwart the picture?

Van Berg retired with the feeling that his project of illuminating a face by awakening a mind that,as yet,had slept,did not promise very brilliantly.

Miss Mayhew tried to persuade herself that it was a relief not to see the critical artist at breakfast,nor to meet him as she strolled from the parlors to the piazza and thence to the croquet-ground,where she listlessly declined to take part in a game.

There was,in truth,great need that her mind should be awakened and her whole nature radically changed,if it were a possible thing,--a need shown by the fact the fair June morning,with its fragrance and beauty,could not light up her face with its own freshness and gladness.The various notes of the birds were only sounds;the landscape,seen for the first time,was like the map of Switzerland,that,in the days of her geography lessons,gave her as vivid an idea of the country as a dry sermon does of heaven.

Although her ears and eyes were so pretty,she was,in the deepest and truest sense of the word,deaf and blind.The lack of some petty and congenial excitement made time hang heavily on her hands and clouded her face with 'ennui.'"Even her cousin had failed her,for he was down at the stables,making arrangements for the care of his bays and his carriage.Thus from very idleness she fell to nursing her small spite against the man whose voice had made such harsh discord with the honeyed chorus of flattery to which she was accustomed.She wished that he would appear,and that in some way she might show how little she cared for him or his opinion;but as he did not,she at last lounged to her room and sought to kill a few hours with a novel.

Her wounded pride,however,induced her to dress quite elaborately for dinner;for she had faith in no better way of asserting her personality than that afforded by the toilet.She would teach him,by the admiration she excited in others,how mistaken he had been in his estimate,and her vanity whispered that even he could not look upon her beauty for any length of time without being won by it as so many others had been.

The change of seats having been effected,she scarcely thought it necessary to turn her back upon him while sitting at such a dim distance.Indeed she was inclined to regret the change,for now her toilet and little airs,which she imagined to be so pretty,would be lost upon him.

It would seem that they were,for Van Berg ate his dinner as quietly,and chatted as unconcernedly to those about him as if she had no existence.Never had a man ignored her so completely before,and she felt that she could never forgive him.