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    Devota
    Devota
    Devota
    Ebook45 pages33 minutes

    Devota

    By Augusta J. Evans

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Devota is a short story by Augusta Jane Evans. We follow the whirlwind story of Devota Lindsey, a young woman who strives to find her way in life in this sweet coming of age story.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDigiCat
    Release dateMay 29, 2022
    ISBN8596547016830
    Devota

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      Book preview

      Devota - Augusta J. Evans

      Augusta J. Evans

      Devota

      EAN 8596547016830

      DigiCat, 2022

      Contact: [email protected]

      Table of Contents

      Cover

      Titlepage

      Text

      CHAPTER II

      Table of Contents

      When

      a master painter, crowned with international renown, had unsuccessfully attempted a portrait of Devota Lindsay, he turned the canvas head down with face to the wall, and vented his irrepressible chagrin.

      "Miss Lindsay will pardon me for declining to waste any longer her patience, and my time in finishing a picture that can be merely a pretty mask. Despite its classic lines and exquisite coloring the locked face you show me, no more reflects your individual mentality and emotional potentialities than some flawless alabaster mask. If you will permit a frank analysis, I should say your habitual expression is that of complete, well-trained repose, impervious to shocks; and even your eyes—if windows of your soul—are deftly curtained with a radiant mist defying scrutiny. If you will excuse the argot of your own countrymen, should the day ever arrive when you 'let yourself go,' may I be there to paint the real woman! I shall destroy this baffling work, retaining only the hand and arm, which you must grant me as some solace for defeat. The day is not distant when you will recognize your wrist and fingers in my 'Egeria' signalling Numa."

      Mature womanhood very rarely preserves the fresh and dainty tints peculiar to girlish youth, and to-night as Miss Lindsay walked slowly down the stairs, one might well have doubted the number of years that had rolled so tenderly, leaving no credentials to line their passage.

      Her dinner dress of heliotrope chiffon was cut square at the neck, garnished with filmy Mechlin, and around her throat she wore a broad collar composed of three rows of large fire opals, set in delicate Venetian network of gold wire, from the center of which hung a Maltese cross of diamonds. In her silk girdle was fastened a bunch of long-stemmed double white violets. The slender handle of her circular fan was studded with opals, and the disk glowed with its iridescent border of peacock feathers.

      Avoiding the main door of the long parlor whence came the hum and chatter of many voices, she paused in an adjoining music-room, where a lace-curtained arch-way permitted a view of the assembled guests. Above the arch an electric light glared over her face and figure, enhancing the golden shimmer of her hair, and the starry brilliance of the long-lashed velvety hazel eyes. Cautiously lifting the outside edge of the drapery, she looked at the various groups, and her gaze fastened on one where the hostess, the Bishop's wife, and Mrs. Van Allen—a gay young widow—clustered

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