“You can return it at your convenience,” said he, “and in the meantime, if I can throw any thing in your way, I will do it with pleasure.”
Ellison received the check with a feeling of relief. He now had it in his power to wipe out the obligation he was under to a man who had approached him with what he felt to be little less than an insult. But, as he went back to his studio, the pressure on his feelings was not removed. There had only been a shifting of the obligation; a painful sense of its existence yet remained. Moreover, as an artist, he had done violence to his professional self-respect by asking an order for painting—and this added to his disquietude of mind.
[To be continued.
LINES.
I’ve loved thee, as the breeze to kiss the sweetest flowers;
I’ve loved thee as the thirsty earth eve’s refreshing showers;
I’ve loved thee, as the bird to sing its softly thrilling lay;
I’ve loved thee, as the heated rock the ocean’s dashing spray;
I’ve loved thee, as the fevered cheek to feel the cooling air;