"Yes, you may look," he said, seeing that she would not
turn her head without his word; and waited.
Elfrida took three or four steps beyond the easel and
faced it. In the first instant of her gaze her face grew
radiant. "Ah," she said softly, "how unconscionably you
must hare flattered me! I can't be so pretty as that."
A look of relief shot across Kendal's face. "I'm glad
you like it," he said briefly. "It's a capital pose."
The first thing that could possibly be observed, about
the portrait was its almost dramatic loveliness. The head
was turned a little, and the eyes regarded something
distant, with a half wishful, half deprecating dreaminess.
The lips were plaintively courageous, and the line of
the lifted chin and throat helped the pathetic eyes and
annihilated the heaviness of the other features. It was
as if the face made an expressive effort to subdue a
vitality which might otherwise have been aggressive; but
while the full value of this effect of spiritual pose
was caught and rendered, Kendal had done his work in a
vibrant significant chord of color that strove for the
personal force beneath it and brought it out.
Elfrida dropped into the nearest chair, clasped her knees
in her hands, and bending forward, earnestly regarded
the canvas with a silence that presently became perceptible.
Pages:
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343