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Even she colored a little and bit her lip under the merited charge.
But all this made him all the more interesting as an art study, and she was now sketching away rapidly. She coolly replied, however, "You don't know the world very well yet, my little man."
The boy said nothing, but stood regarding her with his unnaturally large eyes filled with anger, reproach, and wonder.
"Oh," thought Christine, "if I could only paint that expression!"
"You seem a great friend of Mr. Fleet," she said, studying and sketching him as if he had been an inanimate object.
The boy made no answer.
"Perhaps you do not know that I am a friend--friendly," she added, correcting herself, "to Mr. Fleet also."
"Mr. Fleet never likes to have his friends do wrong," said the boy, doubtingly.
Again she colored a little, for Ernst's pure and reproachful face made her feel that she had done a mean thing, but she laughed said: "You see I am not in his mission cla.s.s, and have never had the instruction that you have. But, after all, why do you think Mr. Fleet better than other people?"
"By what he does."
"That is a fair test; what has he done?"
"He saved us all from starving, and worse than starving."
Then with feminine tact she drew from him his story, and it was told with deep feeling and the natural pathos of childhood, and his grat.i.tude caused him to dwell with a simple eloquence on the part Dennis had taken, while his rich and loved German accent made it all the more interesting to Christine. She dropped her pencil, and, when he finished, her eyes, that were seldom moistened by the dew of sympathy, were wet.
"Good-by, my child," she said, in a voice so kind and sweet that it seemed as if another person had spoken. "You shall come again, and then I shall finish my sketch. When I get well I shall go to see your father's picture. Do not be afraid; neither you nor Mr. Fleet will fare the worse for the strawberries, and you may tell him that they have done me much good."
When Dennis, wondering at Ernst's long absence, heard from him his story, his mind was in a strange tumult, and yet the result of his effort seemed favorable. But he learned more fully than ever that Christine was not perfect, and that her faultless beauty and taste were but the fair mask of a deformed spirit. But he dwelt in hope on the feeling she had shown at Ernst's story.
"She seemed to have two hearts," said the boy--"a good, kind one way inside the cold, hard outside one."
"That is about the truth," thought Dennis. "Good-night, Ernst. I don't blame you, my boy, for you did the best you could."
He had done better than Dennis knew.
CHAPTER XXVII
A MISERABLE TRIUMPH
After Ernst's departure Christine reclined wearily in her chair, quite exhausted by even the slight effort she had made, but her thoughts were busy.
"What a unique character that Dennis Fleet is! And yet, in view of what he believes and professes, he is both natural and consistent. He seems humble only in station, and that is not his fault. Everything he does seems marked by unusual good taste and intelligence. His earlier position and treatment in the store must have been very galling. I can hardly believe that the gentleman I sang Mendelssohn's music with the other evening was the same that I laughed at as he blacked old Schwartz's boots. And yet he saw me laugh, and blacked the boots, conscious that he was a gentleman. It must have been very hard. And yet I would rather do such work myself than live on charity, and so undoubtedly he felt. It is very fortunate that we nearly finished the rearrangement of the pictures before all this occurred, for I could not order him about now as I have done. The fact is, I like servants, not dignified helpers; and knowing what I do, even if he would permit it, I could not speak to him as formerly. But he did show wonderful taste and skill in his help. See now that little ivy-twined basket of luscious fruit: it looks just like him. If he were only rich and t.i.tled, what a genuine n.o.bleman he would make! He is among the few men who do not weary or disgust me; so many are coa.r.s.e and commonplace. I cannot understand it, but I, who fear and care for no one except my father, almost feared him when under Miss Brown's insolence he looked as few men can. What a jumble the world is! He sweeps the store, while insignificant atoms of men are conspicuous in their littleness by reason of high position.
"It was very kind of him to send me this tasteful gift after the miserable experience I caused him the other day. I suppose he does it on the principle of returning good for evil, as his creed teaches.
Moreover, he seems grateful that father gave him employment, and a chance to earn twice what he receives. He certainly must be promoted at once.
"Perhaps," thought she, smiling to herself, while a faint tinge of color came into her cheeks--"perhaps, like so many others, he may be inclined to be a little sentimental also, though he will never be as silly as some of them.
"What a n.o.ble part he acted toward those Bruders! The heart of a pagan could not fail to be touched by that poor little fellow's story, and it has made me believe that I have more heart than I supposed.
Sometimes, especially when I hear or read of some such n.o.ble deed, I catch glimpses of a life infinitely better than the one I know, like the sun s.h.i.+ning through a rift in the clouds; then they shut down again, and father's practical wisdom seems the best there is.
"At any rate," she said aloud, getting up and walking the floor with something of the old restless energy, "I intend to live while I live, and crowd into life's brief day all that I can. I thank Mr. Fleet for a few sensations in what would otherwise have been a monotonous, dreary afternoon."
"What, strawberries!" said Mr. Ludolph, coming in. "Where did you get these? They are the first I have seen."
"Your man-of-all-work sent them to me," said Christine, daintily dipping one after another in sugar.
"Well, that is a good joke."
"A most excellent one, which I am enjoying, and in which you may share.
Help yourself."
"And what has led him to this extravagant favor?"
"Consistency, I suppose. As a good Christian he would return good for evil; and I certainly caused him many and varied tortures the other day."
"No, he is grateful; from first to last the callow youth has been overwhelmed with grat.i.tude that I have permitted him to be worth to me double what I paid him."
"Well, you have decided to promote him, have you not?"
"Yes, he shall have charge of the hanging of new pictures, and the general arrangement of the store, so as to keep up your tasteful and artistic methods. Moreover, he shall meet customers at the door, and direct them just where to find what they want. He is fine-looking, polite, speaks English perfectly, and thus takes well. I can gradually work him in as general salesman, without creating troublesome jealousies."
"What will old Schwartz say?"
"Schwartz is good at finance and figures. I can trust him, and he must relieve me more in this respect. He of course knows that this is the more important work, and will feel honored. As to the others, if they do not like it I can find plenty who will. Fleet's good fortune will take him quite by surprise. He was performing his old humble duties as briskly and contentedly as usual to-day."
"I am surprised at that, for I should have supposed that he would have been on his dignity somewhat, indicating by manner at least that the time for a change had come. He can indicate a great deal by manner, as you might have learned had you seen him under Miss Brown's insults and my lack of courtesy. Well, it does me good to find one American whose head is not turned by a little success. You are right though, I think, father; that young fellow can be very useful to you, and a decided help in hastening the time when we can leave this shop life, and enter our true sphere. I am more impatient to go than words can express, for life seems so brief and uncertain that we must grasp things as soon as possible or we lose them forever. Heavens! what a scare I have had! Everything seemed slipping from under my feet yesterday, and I sinking I know not where. Surely by concentrating every energy we can be ready to go by a year from next fall."
"Yes, that is my plan now."
On the following day Dennis was again promoted and his pay increased.
A man more of the Pat Murphy type was found to perform the coa.r.s.e work of the store. As Mr. Ludolph had said, Dennis could hardly realize his good fortune. He felt like one lifted out of a narrow valley to a breezy hillside. He was now given a vantage-point from which it seemed that he could climb rapidly, and his heart was light as he thought of what he would be able to do for his mother and sisters. Hope grew sanguine as he saw how he would now have the means to pursue his beloved art-studies to far greater advantage. But, above all, his promotion brought him nearer the object of his all-absorbing pa.s.sion. What he feared would take him one or two years to accomplish he had gained in a day. Hope whispered that perhaps it was through her influence in some degree that he had obtained this advance. Could she have seen and read his ardent glances? Lovers' hopes will grow like Jonah's gourd, and die down as quickly. Words could not express his longing to see her again, but for several days she did not come to the store. She merely sent him word to complete the unfinished show-room in accordance with the plan on which they had been working, leaving s.p.a.ce on the sides of the room opposite each other for two large pictures. Though much disappointed, Dennis had carefully carried out her bidding.
Every evening the moment his duties permitted he sought his instructor, Mr. Bruder, and, with an eagerness that his friends could not understand, sought to educate hand and eye. Dennis judged rightly that mere business success would never open to him a way to the heart of such a girl as Christine. His only hope of winning even her attention was to excel in the world of art, where she hoped to s.h.i.+ne as a queen.
Then to his untiring industry and eager attention he added real genius for his tasks, and it was astonis.h.i.+ng what progress he made. When at the close of his daily lesson Dennis had taken his departure, Mr.
Bruder would shake his head, and cast up his eyes in wonder, and exclaim: "Dot youth vill astonish de vorld yet. Never in all Germany haf I seen such a scholar."
Often till after midnight he would study in the solitude of his own little room. And now, relieved of duties in the early morning, he arranged an old easel in the attic of the store, a sort of general lumber-room, yet with a good light for his purpose. Here he secured two good hours daily, and often more, for painting; and his hand grew skilful, and his eye true, under his earnest efforts. But his intense application caused his body to grow thin and his face pale.
Christine had rapidly recovered from her illness, her vital and elastic const.i.tution rebounding back into health and vigor like a bow rarely bent. She, too, was working scarcely less eagerly than Dennis, and preparing for a triumph which she hoped would be the earnest of the fame she meant to achieve. She no longer came to the store with her father in the morning, but spent the best and early hours of the day in painting, riding out along the lake and in the park in the afternoon.
Occasionally she came to the store in the after part of the day, glanced sharply round to see that her tasteful arrangement was kept up, and ever seemed satisfied.
Dennis was usually busy with customers at that time, and, though conscious of her presence the moment she entered, found no excuse or encouragement to approach. The best he ever received from her was a slight smile and a cold bow of recognition, and in her haste and self-absorption she did not always give these. She evidently had something on her mind by which it was completely occupied.
"She does not even think of me," sighed Dennis; "she evidently imagines that there is an immeasurable distance between us yet."