Мхи старої садиби
The Artist of the Beautiful
Buttheartistwasdisturbedbythechild’slook,asimaginingaresemblancebetweenitandPeterHovenden’shabitualexpression.Hecouldhavefanciedthattheoldwatchmakerwascompressedintothisbabyshape,andlookingoutofthosebabyeyes,andrepeating,ashenowdid,themaliciousquestion:"Thebeautiful,Owen!Howcomesonthebeautiful?Haveyousucceededincreatingthebeautiful?"
"Ihavesucceeded,"repliedtheartist,withamomentarylightoftriumphinhiseyesandasmileofsunshine,yetsteepedinsuchdepthofthoughtthatitwasalmostsadness."Yes,myfriends,itisthetruth.Ihavesucceeded."
"Indeed!"criedAnnie,alookofmaidenmirthfulnesspeepingoutofherfaceagain."Andisitlawful,now,toinquirewhatthesecretis?"
"Surely;itistodiscloseitthatIhavecome,"answeredOwenWarland."Youshallknow,andsee,andtouch,andpossessthesecret!For,Annie,—ifbythatnameImaystilladdressthefriendofmyboyishyears,—Annie,itisforyourbridalgiftthatIhavewroughtthisspiritualizedmechanism,thisharmonyofmotion,thismysteryofbeauty.Itcomeslate,indeed;butitisaswegoonwardinlife,whenobjectsbegintolosetheirfreshnessofhueandoursoulstheirdelicacyofperception,thatthespiritofbeautyismostneeded.If,—forgiveme,Annie,—ifyouknowhow—tovaluethisgift,itcannevercometoolate."
Heproduced,ashespoke,whatseemedajewelbox.
