She could not bear it; the story it told was too pathetic. She let the draperies fall gently back into place, reknotted the cords as she had found them, and stole softly from the room into the reception hall, where she waited, trying to recover her color and self-control, until the others rejoined her.
Evidently they had been having a playful tilt over something, for Dorothy was bubbling over with merriment, and both gentlemen were smiling in sympathy with her mood. Thus Helen escaped any sense of awkwardness in meeting John again, or in the leave-takings that followed; no reference was made to the picture; he did not even seem to be curious as to how it had affected her, and she parted from him with what appeared to be but a cordial handshake and a simple good-by.
But when they were gone, the man stood, white and motionless, for several moments where they left him, struggling mightily within himself. The supreme test had come—the test of absolute and final renunciation. At last, with a quick indrawn breath that was very like a sob, he went to the alcove where Helen had stood but a few minutes before, loosened and drew back the draperies, and studied his picture long and critically.
Then he brought his pallet and brushes, and worked with great care upon it for nearly an hour.
At last he stood back and searched the face again. He had changed the eyes in some way that made it seem almost as if a living soul were looking through them, and the lips wore a softer, tenderer expression that was like a gentle benediction.
The new light in the eyes, and the sweeter lines about the mouth were the result of what he had caught from Helen herself an hour ago while they stood talking together in the great window overlooking the Seine.
"It is finished; and it is my masterpiece!" he breathed, as he reverently drew the curtains over the picture again, and then went thoughtfully back to his workroom.
* * * * * * *
During many years that followed, the work of John Hungerford continued to win fame and fortune for the faithful artist. A "Hungerford painting" was regarded as a prize by its possessor, and its price as of secondary importance; while, as a man, his name became the recognized synonym of all that was benevolent, good, and philanthropic.
Struggling artists of merit were generously and tactfully helped over hard places, and sent on their way rejoicing; the idler was kindly reproved and inspired to more persistent effort; the prodigal and profligate were sought after, and, with convincing argument and wise counsel, won from their degrading and enervating pleasures to higher appreciation of the talent with which they had been endowed; the faint-hearted were encouraged, the sick befriended, the homeless sheltered. In fine, the distinguished artist was not only recognized as an authority and a connoisseur in his profession, but also as a great-hearted Man, whose beautiful and hospitable home, as well as his studio, became a delightful and instructive resort for lovers of art, or a refuge in time of need, as the case might be, and open to all who, with worthy intent and honest endeavor, chose to avail themselves of his generosity and kindness.