The White Sister

The White Sister, by F. Marion
Crawford

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Title: The White Sister
Author: F. Marion Crawford
Release Date: July 16, 2006 [EBook #18847]
Language: English
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THE WHITE SISTER
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THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW
YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO SAN FRANCISCO
MACMILLAN & CO., Limited LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA
MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. TORONTO
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[Illustration: VIOLA ALLEN AS THE WHITE SISTER]
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The White Sister By F. Marion Crawford
Author of "The Diva's Ruby," "Saracinesca," "In the Palace of the
King," etc.
A. L. BURT COMPANY PUBLISHERS--NEW YORK
Macmillan Standard Library All Rights Reserved
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COPYRIGHT, 1908, BY F. MARION CRAWFORD.
COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY F. MARION CRAWFORD.
COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
Set up and electrotyped. Published May, 1909. Reprinted May, June,
twice, July, August, twice, September, October, November, December,
1909; February, 1910; March, November, 1910; February, 1911;
September, 1913.
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THE WHITE SISTER
CHAPTER I
'I cannot help it,' said Filmore Durand quietly. 'I paint what I see. If you
are not pleased with the likeness, I shall be only too happy to keep it.'
The Marchesa protested. It was only a very small matter, she said, a
something in the eyes, or in the angle of the left eyebrow, or in the turn
of the throat; she could not tell where it was, but it gave her niece a
little air of religious ecstasy that was not natural to her. If the master
would only condescend to modify the expression the least bit, all would
be satisfactory.
Instead of condescending, Filmore Durand smiled rather indifferently
and gave his pallet and brushes to his man, who was already waiting at
his elbow to receive them. For the famous American portrait-painter
detested all sorts of litter, such as a painting-table, brush-jars, and the
like, as much as his great predecessor Lenbach ever did, and when he
was at work his old servant brought him a brush, a tube of colour, a
knife, or a pencil, as each was needed, from a curtained recess where
everything was kept ready and in order.
'I like it as it is,' said Giovanni Severi, resting his hands on the hilt of
his sabre, as he sat looking thoughtfully from the portrait to the
original.
The young girl smiled, pleased by his approbation of the likeness,
which she herself thought good, though it by no means flattered. On the
contrary, it made her look older than she was, and much more sad; for
though the spring laughed in her eyes when she looked at the officer to
whom people said she was engaged, their counterparts in the portrait
were deep and grave. Certain irregularities of feature, too, were more
apparent in the painting than in nature. For instance, there was a very
marked difference between the dark eyebrows; for whereas the right
one made a perfect curve, the other turned up quite sharply towards the
forehead at the inner end, as if it did not wish to meet its fellow; and
the Marchesa del Prato was quite sure that Angela's delicate nose had

not really that aquiline and almost ascetic look which the great master
had given it. In fact, the middle-aged woman almost wished that it had,
for of all things that could happen she would have been best pleased
that her niece should turn out to have a vocation and should disappear
into some religious order as soon as possible. This was not likely, and
the Marchesa was by no means ready to accept, as an alternative, a
marriage with Giovanni Severi, whom she had long looked upon as her
own private property.
Filmore Durand glanced from one to another of the three in quick
succession, stroked his rather bristly moustache, and lit a cigarette, not
because he wanted to smoke, but because he could not help it, which is
a very different thing. Then he looked at his picture and forgot that he
was not alone with it; and it still pleased him, after a fashion, though he
was not satisfied with what he had done.
Great artists and great writers are rarely troubled by theories; one of the
chief characteristics of mature genius is that it springs directly from
conception to expression without much thought as to the means; a man
who