"These allusions to the past are all painful to her,"he thought,"and she refers to them only because,as she says,her conscience compels her to.It must be my task to make her forget the past in the present and future.""Mr.Van Berg,"she said,returning,"you have visited the Jordan I believe,but I doubt whether its waters did you more good than that little brook over there does me.That's right,"she added,looking over his shoulder at the outlines he was rapidly tracing;"I'm glad you are losing no time."
"I remember the condition on which you allowed me to come,"he replied,looking up with a smile into her face,"and I've already learned,as Mr.Eltinge suggests,that nothing will do in this garden but downright honesty."Something in her face caused his eyes to linger,and he added hastily:"You're right about the Jordan.The brook seems much more potent,for apparently it has washed your trouble all away,but has left--well you might think it flattery if I should tell you all I see.this garden seems to contain the elixir of life for you,Miss Ida.My heart was aching to see how pale you were becoming,but here---""Mr.Van Berg,"said Ida,abruptly,"will you pardon a suggestion?"He looked up at her again a little wonderingly and bowed.
"There has been a sort of necessity,"she resumed,"that my faulty self should be the theme of our conversation to-day,but all the mystery in which you imagined me enveloped must have vanished since you came here.I now must ask that we dwell hereafter on more agreeable subjects than Ida Mayhew.""I must bring this tendency to personal allusions to an end at once,"she thought,"or else I shall betray myself to my bitter mortification."He looked up with a deprecating smile,"I am at your mercy,"he replied,"and as I said before I will submit to any conditions.""This is an easy one,"said Ida,with emphasis,and then she took up the Bible and began reading to Mr.Eltinge,who from his seat under the pear-tree had been watching them with a pleased and placid interest on his serene old face.Their young life appeared beautiful now,and full of hope and promise,but he did not envy it.The prospect before him was better than the best that earth could offer.
Van Berg never forgot the hour that followed.His pencil was busy but his thoughts were busier.He felt his artist life and power kindling within him in a way that was exhilarating and grand.While his themes were simple he felt that they were noble and beautiful in the highest degree.The tree--a pretty object in itself--had been endowed with a human interest and suggested a divine philosophy.
Mr.Eltinge,who sat at its foot,became to him one of the world's chief heroes--a man who had met and vanquished evil for almost a century.His white hair and silver beard were a halo of glory around the quiet face that was turned in kindly sympathy towards his companion,and Van Berg did his best to bring out the noble profile.
But the maiden herself--why did his eyes turn so often to her,and why did he,unasked,introduce her into the sketch with a care and lingering delicacy of touch that made even her pencilled image seem a living girl?When not affected or rendered conventional by society,her voice was singularly girlish and natural,and there would often be a tone in a plaintive and minor key that vibrated like a low,sweet chord in his heart rather than in his ears.It must be admitted that he gave little heed to the sacred words she read;but the flexible music of her voice,mingled with the murmur of the brook,the rustle of the leaves and the occasional song of a bird,all combined to form the sweetest symphony he had ever heard.
As an artist he exulted.His hand had not lost its cunning,and his ruling passion,which the strange experiences of the past few weeks had held in abeyance,was reasserting itself with a fuller,richer power than he had known before.That WAS Ida Mayhew's face that was growing beautiful and full of her new and better life under his appreciative and skilful touch,and the consciousness of success in the kind of effort in which success meant to him so much,filled him with a strong enthusiasm.
Once or twice Ida glanced shyly at him,and his appearance did not tend to fix her thoughts wholly on the sacred text.
At last Mr.Eltinge said:"That will do for to-day.I think,under the circumstances,you have given most praiseworthy attention to what you have read,and to what little I could say in the way of explanation.Now for the picture,and I confess I'm as eager as a child to see it;"and they came and looked over Van Berg's shoulder.
Almost instantly Ida clapped her hands,exclaiming with delight:
