The Tiger Lily

A mingling of rage, passion, disappointment, and delight swept over Dale at the revelation. One moment he wondered at his blindness in not divining long before that it was she;...

The breakfast things were laid, and in a few minutes Keren-Happuch came through the studio with his coffee and toast, while an hour later, without daring to speak to him, she bo...

"Temper," said Pacey shortly. "Said he couldn't contain himself; that he was mad to let you come to see Armstrong; and at last I persuaded him to go back, and said I'd see you s...

A noble-looking specimen of humanity, with a grand grizzly head, and strongly marked aquiline features, lit up by deeply set, piercing eyes, got out of a four-wheeler at Number...

Stern in his resolve to avoid all further entanglement, and to keep faith to her whom in his heart of hearts he loved, he shut himself up in his studio, and made a desperate att...

"Nothing like hard work. I've conquered," said Dale to himself one morning, as he sat toiling away at his big picture, whose minor portions were standing out definitely round th...

Armstrong Dale walked up and down his grim-looking, soot-smudged studio, as if he had determined to wear a track on one side similar to that made by a wild beast in his cage.

"No," she whispered softly, "not a step farther," and she looked up through her thick veil in his saddened face. "Let fate be kind to us and the work go on for years and years."

A woman--with the fierce lurid look of a tigress in her dark eyes, and in her action as lithe and elastic, she paced up and down her bedroom hour after hour. Now she threw herse...

"Their scent sickens me," Dale cried passionately, as he committed them to the flames unread, for he frankly owned to himself that he dare not read one, lest he should falter in...

Armstrong Dale did not hear the door close. Picture--the Contessa-- everything was forgotten, and for the time he was back in Boston. For he had thrown himself into a chair, and...

There, not a yard away from the door, lay the beautiful woman, her face drawn in agony and horror, with the blood welling from a wound in her throat: her bonnet was back on her...

His determination, arrived at again and again, was to flee at once from the horrible passion which was sapping the life out of him--his insane love for a woman who evidently des...

There was a puzzled look in Lady Grayson's face as Dale sprang at the Conte, and swung him round, sending him staggering from the door, before which he placed himself, his face...

Pacey sat back in a shabby old chair, in a shabby room. The surroundings were poor and yet rich--the former applying to the furniture, the latter to the many clever little gems...

"Ah, oui, of course," said Leronde, exhaling a little puff of smoke. "It is so, of course. I know. If there had been no knog viz ze stique, ze huzziband would shallenge you. But...

Armstrong's teeth and hands were clenched for the encounter with the angry husband who had tracked his wife to the studio, and he was ready to accept his fate, for he told himse...

"If I have sinned," muttered Armstrong, as he leaned back in his chair, for when from time to time he tried to walk about, a painful sensation of giddiness seized upon him, "I a...

Two days passed, and Dale was standing, brush in hand, before his canvas, thinking. He had made up his mind to trust to his imagination to a great extent for the finishing of Ju...

The speaker raised his head from the white pillow of the massive, old-fashioned four-post bed, and set the ornamental bobs and tags of the heavy bullion fringe upon the great co...

"Yes," said Dale to himself again, "Art is my mistress. I have betrayed one, fought clear of the web of another, and now I am free to keep true to the only one I love."

What to do? Leronde a prisoner; Pacey threatening legal steps. He must go somehow. The only way open appeared to be this; he must leave London at once, telegraphing to the Conte...

"And serve him right. Well," he went on, as his sister winced at his harsh words, "this proves the truth of the saying--`A little knowledge is a dangerous thing,' You know a bit...

He smiled bitterly as he sat with his head resting upon his hand, feeling that he had driven his beautiful model away for ever, and vainly asking himself how it could be that so...

It was with a novel feeling of anxiety that Dale waited for the coming of his model. A peculiar feverish desire to know more of her position had come over him, and he made up hi...

A long-drawn sigh of content, which made Cornelia Thorpe emerge from her chair behind the bed-curtains, and bend over to lay her soft white hand upon the patient's forehead, but...

She rushed into the bedroom, and returned with a basin, sponge, and towel, which, to her surprise and annoyance, were taken from her hand; and she saw Cornel, with deft manipula...

"No, no!" he cried; "you two shall not quarrel. I will not see it. You, my two artist friends who took pity on me when I fly--I, a communard--for my life from Paris. You, Pacie,...

"Not to-night, dear," she said, with a quiet, grave smile.--"He has very little patience with me when he comes home tired from the hospitals," she continued, turning to Pacey. "...

With one quick motion, Armstrong threw Valentina back into her seat, and snatched up palette and brushes, mad with rage and shame, as he made an effort to go on painting. For th...