But at length, as the labor drew nearer
to its conclusion, there were admitted none into the turret; for the
painter had grown wild with the ardor of his work, and turned his eyes
from canvas merely, even to regard the countenance of his wife. And he
would not see that the tints which he spread upon the canvas were
drawn from the cheeks of her who sate beside him. And when many
weeks bad passed, and but little remained to do, save one brush upon
the mouth and one tint upon the eye, the spirit of the lady again
flickered up as the flame within the socket of the lamp. And then
the brush was given, and then the tint was placed; and, for one
moment, the painter stood entranced before the work which he had
wrought; but in the next, while he yet gazed, he grew tremulous and
very pallid, and aghast, and crying with a loud voice, 'This is indeed
Life itself!' turned suddenly to regard his beloved:- She was dead!
THE END
.
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