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so well； they uttered a simultaneous exclamation of delight。
〃There we stand；〃 cried Walter； enthusiastically； 〃fixed in
sunshine forever！ No dark passions can gather on our faces！〃
〃No；〃 said Elinor； more calmly； 〃no dreary change can sadden us。〃
This was said while they were approaching； and had yet gained
only an imperfect view of the pictures。 The painter； after saluting
them； busied himself at a table in completing a crayon sketch； leaving
his visitors to form their own judgment as to his perfected labors。 At
intervals； he sent a glance from beneath his deep eyebrows； watching
their countenances in profile； with his pencil suspended over the
sketch。 They had now stood some moments； each in front of the
other's picture； contemplating it with entranced attention； but
without uttering a word。 At length； Walter stepped forward… then back…
viewing Elinor's portrait in various lights； and finally spoke。
〃Is there not a change？〃 said he； in a doubtful and meditative
tone。 〃Yes； the perception of it grows more vivid the longer I look。
It is certainly the same picture that I saw yesterday； the dress…
the features… all are the same； and yet something is altered。〃
〃Is then the picture less like than it was yesterday？〃 inquired the
painter； now drawing near； with irrepressible interest。
〃The features are perfect； Elinor；〃 answered Walter； 〃and； at the
first glance； the expression seemed also hers。 But； I could fancy that
the portrait has changed countenance； while I have been looking at it。
The eyes are fixed on mine with a strangely sad and anxious
expression。 Nay； it is grief and terror！ Is this like Elinor？〃
〃Compare the living face with the pictured one；〃 said the painter。
Walter glanced sidelong at his mistress； and started。 Motionless
and absorbed… fascinated； as it were… in contemplation of Walter's
portrait； Elinor's face had assumed precisely the expression of
which he had just been complaining。 Had she practised for whole
hours before a mirror； she could not have caught the look so
successfully。 Had the picture itself been a mirror； it could not
have thrown back her present aspect with stronger and more
melancholy truth。 She appeared quite unconscious of the dialogue
between the artist and her lover。
〃Elinor；〃 exclaimed Walter； in amazement； 〃what change has come
over you？〃
She did not hear him； nor desist from her fixed gaze； till he
seized her hand； and thus attracted her notice； then； with a sudden
tremor； she looked from the picture to the face of the original。
〃Do you see no change in your portrait？〃 asked she。
〃In mine？ None！〃 replied Walter； examining it。 〃But let me see！
Yes； there is a slight change… an improvement； I think； in the
picture； though none in the likeness。 It has a livelier expression
than yesterday； as if some bright thought were flashing from the eyes；
and about to be uttered from the lips。 Now that I have caught the
look； it becomes very decided。〃
While he was intent on these observations； Elinor turned to the
painter。 She regarded him with grief and awe； and felt that he
repaid her with sympathy and commiseration； though wherefore； she
could but vaguely guess。
〃That look！〃 whispered she； and shuddered。 〃How came it there？〃
〃Madam；〃 said the painter； sadly； taking her hand； and leading
her apart； 〃in both these pictures； I have painted what I saw。 The
artist… the true artist… must look beneath the exterior。 It is his
gift… his proudest； but often a melancholy one… to see the inmost
soul； and； by a power indefinable even to himself； to make it glow
or darken upon the canvas； in glances that express the thought and
sentiment of years。 Would that I might convince myself of error in the
present instance！〃
They had now approached the table； on which were heads in chalk；
hands almost as expressive as ordinary faces； ivied church towers；
thatched cottages； old thunder…stricken trees； Oriental and antique
costume； and all such picturesque vagaries of an artist's idle
moments。 Turning them over； with seeming carelessness； a crayon sketch
of two figures was disclosed。
〃If I have failed；〃 continued he； 〃if your heart does not see
itself reflected in your own portrait… if you have no secret cause
to trust my delineation of the other… it is not yet too late to
alter them。 I might change the action of these figures too。 But
would it influence the event？〃
He directed her notice to the sketch。 A thrill ran through Elinor's
frame； a shriek was upon her lips； but she stifled it； with the
self…command that becomes habitual to all who hide thoughts of fear
and anguish within their bosoms。 Turning from the table； she perceived
that Walter had advanced near enough to have seen the sketch； though
she could not determine whether it had caught his eye。
〃We will not have the pictures altered；〃 said she； hastily。 〃If
mine is sad； I shall but look the gayer for the contrast。〃
〃Be it so；〃 answered the painter； bowing。 〃May your griefs be
such fanciful ones that only your picture may mourn for them！ For your
joys… may they be true and deep； and paint themselves upon this lovely
face till it quite belie my art！〃
After the marriage of Walter and Elinor； the pictures formed the
two most splendid ornaments of their abode。 They hung side by side；
separated by a narrow panel； appearing to eye each other constantly；
yet always returning the gaze of the spectator。 Travelled gentlemen；
who professed a knowledge of such subjects； reckoned these among the
most admirable specimens of modern portraiture； while common observers
compared them with the originals； feature by feature； and were
rapturous in praise of the likeness。 But it was on a third class…
neither travelled connoisseurs nor common observers； but people of
natural sensibility… that the pictures wrought their strongest effect。
Such persons might gaze carelessly at first； but； becoming interested；
would return day after day； and study these painted faces like the
pages of a mystic volume。 Walter Ludlow's portrait attracted their
earliest notice。 In the absence of himself and his bride； they
sometimes disputed as to the expression which the painter had intended
to throw upon the features； all agreeing that there was a look of
earnest import； though no two explained it alike。 There was less
diversity of opinion in regard to Elinor's picture。 They differed；
indeed； in their attempts to estimate the nature and depth of the
gloom that dwelt upon her face； but agreed that it was gloom； and
alien from the natural temperament of their youthful friend。 A certain
fanciful person announced； as the result of much scrutiny； that both
these pictures were parts of one design； and that the melancholy
strength of feeling； in Elinor's countenance； bore reference to the
more vivid emotion； or； as he termed it； the wild passion； in that
of Walter。 Though unskilled in the art； he even began a sketch； in
which the action of the two figures was to correspond with their
mutual expression。
It was whispered among friends that；