Pictures and the Picturegoer (October 1915 - March 1916)

PICTURES AND THE PICTURF.GOEK C54 JIllex hears her husband's voice. <: I shall start now?" inquired Helen, feverishly. •■ Is this the dressing-room S :' She pointed to an alcove behind a thick, heavy curtain. Wainwright nodded again, and prepared his easel as Helen withdrew to the other room. She appeared again with the studio-gown around her shoulders and with her hair unbound. Without a word she went to the cushioned pedestal, and posed herself with her eyes averted from the painter. Wainwright looked at Helen, and with a steady, even voice ren arked, "A little more to the side. please; no. not like that."' He strode over to Helen, and. with deft lingers,' lilted the heavy tresses of hair, and adjusted them in the desired -manner. Helen blushed as she felt Robert's hands arranging her hair, and stole a swift glance at his face. Wainwright was cold and polite, a though she were an ordinary model. Satisfied at last, he returned to his easel, and began to paint. An hour later Helen returned home. and told Donald she had 1 i out seekin emploj ment and had he, n successful. Donald 1 coked distressed, hut his wife's brave face reassured him. and he remarked that he hoped she would not have to work very Ion-, as he expected several small contracts from other art dealers. Helen went out the next day. and on her departure Dolbeare called to see Donald. There wasa grin of revej on his face. "Ah, my friend. T called to see J£rs. Bryant. Not in? Well, perhaps not. Doubtless I shall find her at Robert W'ainw ri-ht's -tndio." Donald jumped to bis feet and • the art-dealer In* the throat. " What do you mean, you old scoundrel? AiJiie. or I'll choke the life out of yon.'' "This is the cheque I've been instructed to pay Mrs. Bryant," replied Dolbeare,as he wrenched himself free. ■ You see it is payable by Wainwright to your wife." Donald glanced at the cheque. It was as Dolbeare stated. Ten minutes later Donald was ushered into Wainwriuht's studio. With the exemption of the painter it was empty, and Donald, looking round, saw no sign of a woman's presence. Wainwright. with grim lips, kept the other in talk for several minutes until Donald, who nowseemed relieved, noticed a pair of slavechains used by painters for models posing for the part of slave-girls. Wainwright followed his glance. " A. nice pair. I picked them up in Paris.'" "Yes, yes," replied -Donald, abstractedly. " I thought my wife was here"' he'eyed Kobert narrowly— " arid 1 called to escort her home."' " No, my dear boy." replied the other, nonchalantly. " I have not received the. pleasure of -a visit from your wife today." •' * Donald departed. The curtains ii^ the alcove swung apart, and Helen appeared with unbound hair .. and her s.tudio-gown clinging loosely round her. form. Wainwright eyed her with con-.cern, and remarked. " We both had a narrow escape that time. Do you think" you ought to continue these visits without telling him." "No", no," replied Helen; ''he will stop me, and I must earn the money. I shall come again to-morrow. I'm too shaken to sit for you any longer to-day." That evening Donald's gaze was concentrated on his wife's arms, which the low-cut gown laid bare almost to the elbow. With an angry, suspicious movement he took her arm and pointed out a dark circular mark. " How did you get this mark ? " he asked, coldly. "My bangles, I expect." replied Helen, with beating heart. "Or slave chains." retorted Donald, bitterly. " Nbdoubt they become you! I shall settle this matter once and for all." He went to the drawer and took out a revolver, which he placed in his pocket. With fear at her heart. Helen sprang towards him. " What do you intend to dor " she demanded. Donald fiercely pushed her from him. and she stumbled to the .-round. Now thoroughly alarmed; Helen sprang to her feet and caught his arm. " Sureh you can trust me ! 1 posed to him for your sake." Once more her husband pushed her from him. and dashed to the door. Helen knew il was Donald's intention to go to Wainwright's house. She must get there first and warn Wainwright . and. lulling her jacket on. she went out ■ and summoned a taxi, and dr to Wainwrigbt's house, which • rcely entered before D-nald w announced. Brushing the seryai ild walked into the stud: Aga for the presence of Wainn a empty. " .My wife is here." began Donald. in of pa- ".My dear fellow § :i Wain wright, expostulatingly. "She is here. 1 tell you," interrupted the' other in white heat. "This i^ kei feather boa." Donald picked up th« familiar article which had been cara lessly thrown on a s,,f;l. "Now, whew i my.wif. "Let me explain/'h rt Wain wright. " You have got a bee iu youi net. Everything can l>e explained if you will only cool down and listen." "There are always plausible explanations to cover up Lfuilt and retorted Donald with jealous rage. Hi hand went to his pocket, and a quiet report followed as Wainwright strucl up his arm. A scream from the alcove the curtains parted, and Helen tottered forth and fell to the ground " Madman ! " shouted Wainwright now enraged in his turn. " You hav< shot your wife ! "' • • . • • • The wound was not fatal, and when his wife became convalescent and he had time. to. think over, the cirenmstan leading to his rash act. Donald w pelled to admit that he had been wrong, j The explanation given him by Wainwright was quite satisfactory. "Whatever the faults." said Wain-wright, "and I admit there have 1 faults. I can assure you that, although your wife has sacrificed her pride, lias never sold her honour." Later that day Wainwright drew the brush across the iinislird portrait i >f Helen as the harem slave-girl, "There ^oes my masterpiece," he muttered sadly. M w M \.\ ; YOU HAVE SHOT YOVK WlFBl