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Updated: June 27, 2025
It was the sense in him of something unstable and incalculable, something at once weak and violent, that was brought to light by the contrast of Amherst's quiet resolution. Here was a man whom no gusts of chance could deflect from his purpose; while she felt that the career to which Wyant had so ardently given himself would always be at the mercy of his passing emotions.
She said to herself that Wyant had doubtless made some allusion to his situation, and that her husband, conscious only of a great debt of gratitude, had at once sat down to draw a cheque for him. The idea was so reassuring that it restored all her clearness of thought. Wyant was the first to see her. He made an abrupt movement, and Amherst, rising, turned and put an envelope in his hand.
Under the momentary evocation of the sunset, the saint's figure emerged pale and swooning from the dusk, and the warm light gave a sensual tinge to her ecstasy. The flesh seemed to glow and heave, the eyelids to tremble; Wyant stood fascinated by the accidental collaboration of light and color. Suddenly he noticed that something white had fluttered to the ground at his feet.
"I am much obliged to you," said Wyant; "and I may as well tell you that the letter which you apparently expected to find in the lining of my hat is not there, but in my pocket." He drew it out and handed it to its owner, who had grown very pale. "And now," Wyant continued, "you will perhaps be good enough to tell me what all this means."
Think of the things that have been called beautiful, and then look at THAT!" "It is worthy of a new vocabulary," Wyant agreed. "Yes," Doctor Lombard continued, "my daughter is indeed fortunate. She has chosen what Catholics call the higher life the counsel of perfection. What other private person enjoys the same opportunity of understanding the master?
Amherst's guest she did not care to be seen romantically loitering through the twilight with Stephen Wyant; and she freed herself with a quick goodbye. He gave her a last look, hesitating and imploring; then, in obedience to her gesture, he turned away and strode off in the opposite direction.
"I will serve you in any way I can; but you must see that this way is impossible. Can't I talk to you again? Perhaps " "Oh," she cried, starting up, "there he comes!" Doctor Lombard's step sounded in the passage. Wyant held her fast. "Tell me one thing: he won't let you sell the picture?" "No hush!" "Make no pledges for the future, then; promise me that." "The future?"
As the latter advanced toward Wyant, the young man was conscious of staring with unseemly intentness at his small round-backed figure, dressed with shabby disorder and surmounted by a wonderful head, lean, vulpine, eagle-beaked as that of some art-loving despot of the Renaissance: a head combining the venerable hair and large prominent eyes of the humanist with the greedy profile of the adventurer.
I tried again and again; but he was always in the room with me." She glanced over her shoulder as though she had heard a step; and to Wyant, too, for a moment, the room seemed full of a third presence. "And you can't" he faltered, unconsciously dropping his voice to the pitch of hers. She shook her head, gazing at him mystically. "I can't lock him out; I can never lock him out now.
The young man extended his hands in a deprecating gesture. Could Mr. Wyant blame him? He was young, he was ardent, he was enamored! The young lady had done him the supreme honor of avowing her attachment, of pledging her unalterable fidelity; should he suffer his devotion to be outdone?
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