Wethersfield High School - Elm Yearbook (Wethersfield, CT)

Page 27 text:

ll. No, no, no, Collette! Jaques frowned professionally and crossed the big room to where Collette sat. Like this-so!', he said, changing the position of one of her white hands and gently tipping her chin upward a little. There! There! Good!,' He smiled. Is it right-are you sure-like this?,' Collette questioned anxiously, sitting motionless as a little wax figure. Yes! Jaques said shortly. He squeezed a generous supply of white paint from a large tube, he wiped his hand once over the surface of his dirty smock. Then he began to work. He had worked for several hours before he noticed the shadows deepening under the girl's eyes. Collette! You are tired! No-,,' she smiled wanly. Ah, Collette, I didn't think. I'm so sorry. We must stop now. He turned and put his palette down carefully. We shall have Madeline make us some tea- The smile left his lips. Collette, he exclaimed. Collette had suddenly drooped. Jaques ran to her, calling as he went: Madeline! Madeline! There was the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs to his work- room. In a moment a little woman hurried in. Ach, du lieber!,' she scolded rapidly. You have no sense, Jaques. You have tired her out with your painting! Little tired one,,' she crooned, pillowing the dark head on her shoulder. Jaques felt suddenly lost and somehow a little hurt, as he followed the two down the steep stairs. He wanted to help-he had not meant to tire her like thisg he had been so intent upon his work. He felt suddenly very tired and hungry and bewildered. Presently, when the three were drinking hot tea and munching eroissants, it was better. Collette's eyes began to glow, and the shadows beneath them were not so deep. Madeline chattered good-naturedlyg without being able to explain it, she felt proud of Jaques, and of the lovely dark girl at his side. They were all very happy there together, with the sun streaming through the great windows and the warm air of Southern France breathing the scent of flowers into the room. ' There followed many more such hours. Jaques was careful not to work too long each day, for Collette was not strong. They laughed a great deal together. Collette was so confident in him, he was so con- fident in himself, together they would accomplish things-great things. III. What is wrong, Jaques? You have worked so long, and now you will not show your work before Rossieux! The picture is not good, repeated Jaques stubbornly, a little mechanically.

Page 26 text:

Lilefar De arlmenl if xi lk ' HW lfn :IEE THE GREAT PICTURE Collette, your dark bird is singing! There-look!', Collette of the mellow eyes raised her head eagerlyg she gave a low little laugh: Oh!,' Jaques Watched the white face tip-tilted to the sung his eyes traced the delicate features. Collette was not beautiful as other women were. She had a soul, that looked out from her dusky eyes and smiled from her laughing lips. And it was a poet-soul that made her a dreamy Collette, who seemed always far off over the hills or deep in the shadows of a starry night, even though she might be sitting right beside you on the grassy slope of a sun-drenched hill. Jaques! How she said his name-that one word Jaques!'j Her lips made a song of it. Jaques, if you could paint a picture as lovely as my bird's song! A picture as lovely as a dark bird's song. That would be Collette, he answered. Collette became serious. Then it shall be Collette!', she said eagerly, and it will be a great picture! Collette, lovely as a rose dripping with morning dew- his mind formed the words over and over, lovely as a fragrant rose drenched with crystal dew. Jaques was in love.

Page 28 text:

l'Why, Jaques? Why? Collette was wide-eyed, hurt. Because-I do not know why! he said irritably. It does not live, he finished lamely. He wished she would not look so-so tragicg it made him feel cruel. The picture-he could barely understand what had happened. He had always been so happy, so free, so alive. Why then could he not portray the happiness, the vitality, that glowed from Collette? She talked on and on. Jaques could not bear the look in her eyes. You will go to Rossieux, Jaques? she was begging him. How could he tell her how he felt? He knew that his picture lacked a soul. A great picture must have a soul, someone had said. I will go.', He smiled gently as he saw the gladness sweep into her face. Now? she demanded eagerly. Will you go now?,' Now,,' he answered dully. But Collette was too happy to notice. He left her there, putting his things straight, singing to herself. He counted the steps, going down slowly. His feet dragged as he went out the door. It had begun to rain a little. He hardly noticed it. He only knew that a curious empty feeling of dismay was creep- ing over himg it was almost like being very, very hungry. He could not rid himself of it. It was a terrible feeling. It kept growing and growing as he walked along. lt was dusk when he returned. Collette was waiting for him ex- pectantly. He forced his eyes to meet hers. Collette-I-I could not go inf' A puzzled look came into her eyes, driving away the gladness that had been there. You did not go in-you did not see RossieuX? she queried in- credulously. Her voice was strained. I could not,', he repeated. ls it-they wouldn't let you in, Jaques! She pounced upon this explanation thankfully, that was itg they had turned away her Jaques at the door. That is all right-you shall go again-we shall go together-we shall get in! Already she was planning. No, it was not that. Jaques was hollow-eyed, a little dazed. Collette, I--I was-afraid! he forced the words. Afraid! You! Collette whispered in an awed voice. My Jaques afraid? she said slowly. 'Yes.', He looked away from her. She was very serious, more serious than he had ever seen her before, she was as serious as death. You have failed me, Jaques. You are-useless. You are not big enoughf' she paused a moment, for the gift that God gave you. He could barely hear her words, so gently she spoke. I believed in you! I loved you--a coward. I built my dreams about a coward, a life-time of dreams, Jaques!,' Her voice was beautiful. He held his breath and listened for the sob that was hidden beneath the words. It did not come. She was suddenly very angry. She stunned