The Three Brothers, Chapters XLIX-L [pp. 152-156]

152 APPLETONS' JO URNAL OF POPULAR [AUGUST 6,
which held his genius captive, as with prisoner's chains; the faded
wife, looking to her imagination like a jailer, and finally the beautiful,
pale face of the dead man himself, a feeling arose in her breast to
which she scarcely ventured to give a name-a feeling which wrung
from her burning tears. She loved and lost, at the same moment,
him who lay so still upon the bed of death, for she doubted not
she was gazing upon the departed. She would henceforth remain
faithful to this love, that she might be permitted to meet his blest
spirit in heaven.
When the wonderful tidings of Teniers's resurrection spread through
Antwerp, joy combined with a secret grief threw the beautiful Isabella
upon a bed of sickness, from which she only arose to fulfil her silent
vow. Her great beauty, her riches, together with the position of her
father, drew around her countless admirers, among them men of high
rank and fame; the strange girl turned away from all, remained by
the bedside of her invalid father, cheered the last days of his life,
watched over him faithfully, day and night, and at last tenderly
closed his eyes. After his death, she decided to take the veil, and
become a pious nun. A few days before her departure for the " Convent of the Sisters of Mercy," at Bruges, where she desired to enter
upon her novitiate, she heard of David Teniers's proclamation. A joyous thought thrilled through her, and annihilated with one blow all
her carefully-laid plans. She would become the maid-servant of the
beloved one, take charge of his children, and endeavor by her devotion to smooth away all care and sorrow from his house. Without
revealing her purpose to a human being, she vanished from Antwerp,
and appeared, as already related, in the castle with the three towers,
to bear therein new life and happiness.
From the hour that David Teniers called Isabella his wife, his talent took a new and wonderful upward flight. All his best pictures
date from that cloudless period of pure spiritual and bodily content.
A multitude of superb works of art arose from his masterly hand,
inspired by the ever-watchful eyes of the beautiful Isabella, among
them the celebrated one entitled " Morning Preparations for a Rural
Festival." In the foreground of the picture stand heavy kettles, barrels, and provisions; and various picturesque groups of men are scattered about taking breakfast. An enchanting brightness and freshness pervade the whole scene. Connoisseurs are charmed with the
delicate and harmonious silvery effect of the picture, notwithstanding the variety of figures and the warmth of the coloring; it is also
very remarkable for the fineness of the perspective and for the delicacy and spirit of the touch.
A charming representation of a country fair, with Teniers Castle
and its three towers rising in the background, is also noted for its
lively and varied expressions of merriment, the admirable arrange ment of the figures, its delicate touch, and charming, airy lightness of
tone. Among his celebrated paintings are an Italian fair, an Antwerp
target procession, a group of gypsies, the well-known guard-room with
its drummer, and numerous little village scenes. Many noble works,
taken from the " Lives of the Saints," date from this period, such as
the great altar-piece in the village church of Meerbeck, near
Mechlin, the "Temptation of St. Anthony," and the "Nine
Martyrs of Gorcum," in the Church of the Barefooted Friars, at
Mechlin.
David Teniers painted, also, the well-known "Seven Works of
Mercy," which he gave to his own little town-that peasant world
which had become so dear to him. We must not forget to mention,
among his masterpieces, "Peter's Denial of his Master to the Maid servant," celebrated for its skilful treatment and for its admirable
coloring; and the " Christ Crowned with Thorns," in which painting
the drawing, the expression, the coloring, the disposition of light and
shade, and the touch, are alike masterly, and show careful study in
minutest details.
Teniers's fame drew many pupils of all ages around him, as well
as distinguished men of rank, among whom was Prince John of Aus tria. It was whispered about that the master might chiefly thank a won derfully beautiful picture for the great crowd which thronged his studio
-a picture which for several hours a day was visible to spectators be hind its framework of glass. In the left corner of the atelier was a large,
round window, which opened into the master's little sitting-room.
Behind its panes of stained glass sat, day in and day out, Teniers's
wife, Isabella de Frene, once the loveliest maiden in Antwerp. She
sewed, or instructed the chiilren, glancing, as she did so, joyfully and
tenderly toward her husband's easel, so that Teniers had a dim yet
glowing vision of this beautiful head ever before him, inspiring him
to work all the more earnestly.
So the years went on, the children grew up, and the little picture
behind the glass gradually lost its bright coloring. Delicate lines
became visible in the countenance, the well-formed nose sharpened,
little wrinkles might be seen around the eyes, and silver threads in
the rich brown hair, which after a while was tucked away under a
pointed cap; and at last a lovely, peaceful old lady sat behind the
window, looking at an aged man whose eyes and hand alone revealed
that he had ever been young and full of life. The elegant cavaliers
had certainly vanished; but the young pupils, among whom were an
Alshoven, Tillburg, Van Harp, De Hort, and others, looked with tender reverence upon the serene face which had a maternal smile for
each, and Master Teniers still called this head his best picture.
One day a black curtain hung before the round window, where it
remained ever after, and for a long, long time, the master worked not
in his studio. After the sudden and peaceful death of his faithful
wife he painted very little, and the beautiful tone of his pictures vanished-the coloring became dark and gray. Irreparable as the great
loss was to him, his mind remained as clear as ever, and his racy
humor, the very groundwork of his being, which shines forth repeatedly in his best pictures, never forsook him. He occupied himself
more in portrait painting than he had ever done before, and his success was very creditable.
One day a rich attorney sat for his picture to the celebrated Teniers. The master was always particular to mix his black paint with
ivory black, and, his supply being nearly exhausted, he pulled out with
the greatest coolness his last tooth, and burned it to a coal: "I can
do nothing more for art," he said, jestingly. "David Teniers may
now permit his pencil to rest with honor-and himself also."
On the next morning, his favorite scholar, Alshoven, found him
dead in his bed, still smiling peacefully. At this time the master
glanced not up again, though burning tears of sorrow fell from the eyes
of his devoted pupils upon his brow.
David Teniers was buried in the Church of the Holy Virgin, in
Perck, in the year 1690.
THE THREE BROTHERS.
BY MRS. OLIPHANT, AUTHOR OF " THE CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD,"
" THE BROWNINGS," ETC.
CHAPTER XLIX.-AUNT LYDIA.
"LET us run to the cottage for five minutes, and see mamma," said
Mary, as they made their way back. "Fancy, Ben, she does not
know you have come home!"
"Shall we have time?" Ben asked, making for the bank as he
spoke.
The path that led to the cottage struck off from the river-side
above The Willows. And it was always gaining time to make this
little diversion. He had been so silent, saying nothing; and a
sense of disappointment had crept over Mary after the intense
sympathy with which she felt she had been entering into all his
thoughts.
But, when he thrust the boat into the flowering bank, and helped
her to jump out, Ben replied to her, though she had said nothing.
"You are quite right," he said. "It is best in every way not to meet
them again."
" Ben! I did not say a word-"
" No," he answered, " you did not; and it was very, very kind of
you, Mary. I am more obliged to you than I can say. There are
some things which it is impossible to talk about. I thank you with
all my heart."
What did this mean? Mary was accustomed to a great deal of
talk about every thing-more talk than meaning, indeed. And she
was a little bewildered by this absence of all explanation. She would
have been comforted had he opened up a little and told her how it all
was. But she submitted, of course, concluding it was his mannish,
unsatisfactory way. And as they went hurriedly up the lane, in the
kindness of her heart she slid her hand through Ben's arm. It was
the softest, kindly touch, such as his sister's hand might have given.
Was not she his sister, nearer to him than any one else, and, little as
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