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The Artist of the Beautiful

           

           Fromthisperilousstatehewasredeemedbyanincidentwhichmorethanonepersonwitnessed,butofwhichtheshrewdestcouldnotexplainorconjecturetheoperationonOwenWarland’smind.Itwasverysimple.Onawarmafternoonofspring,astheartistsatamonghisriotouscompanionswithaglassofwinebeforehim,asplendidbutterflyflewinattheopenwindowandflutteredabouthishead.

           "Ah,"exclaimedOwen,whohaddrankfreely,"areyoualiveagain,childofthesunandplaymateofthesummerbreeze,afteryourdismalwinter’snap?Thenitistimeformetobeatwork!"

           And,leavinghisunemptiedglassuponthetable,hedepartedandwasneverknowntosipanotherdropofwine.

           Andnow,again,heresumedhiswanderingsinthewoodsandfields.Itmightbefanciedthatthebrightbutterfly,whichhadcomesospirit-likeintothewindowasOwensatwiththeruderevellers,wasindeedaspiritcommissionedtorecallhimtothepure,ideallifethathadsoetheralizedhimamongmen.Itmightbefanciedthathewentforthtoseekthisspiritinitssunnyhaunts;forstill,asinthesummertimegoneby,hewasseentostealgentlyupwhereverabutterflyhadalighted,andlosehimselfincontemplationofit.Whenittookflighthiseyesfollowedthewingedvision,asifitsairytrackwouldshowthepathtoheaven.Butwhatcouldbethepurposeoftheunseasonabletoil,whichwasagainresumed,asthewatchmanknewbythelinesoflamplightthroughthecrevicesofOwenWarland’sshutters?Thetowns-peoplehadonecomprehensiveexplanationofallthesesingularities.

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