Identifier: americanartamer01mont (find matches)
Title: American art and American art collections; essays on artistic subjects
Year: 1889 (1880s)
Authors: Montgomery, Walter
Subjects: Art Artists Art
Publisher: Boston, E.W. Walker & co
Contributing Library: Smithsonian Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: Smithsonian Libraries

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. yet she must seek some shelter, somewhere to hide herself. Five doors off there was Mrs.Pettifers; that kind woman would take her in. It was of no use now to be proud and mind aboutthe worlds knowing: she had nothing to wish for, nothing to care about; only she could not helpshuddering at the thought of braving the morning light, there in the street — she was frightened at 326 AMERICAN ART the thought of spending long hours in the cold. Life might mean anguish, might mean despair;but — oh, she must clutch it, though with bleeding fingers; her feet must cling to the firm earththat the sunlight would revisit, not slip into the untried abyss, where she might long even forfamiliar pains. Janet trod slowly with her naked feet on the rough pavement, trembling at the fitful gleams ofstarlight, and supporting herself by the wall, as the gusts of wind drove right against her. Thevery wind was cruel: it tried to push her back from the door where she wanted to go and knockand ask for pity.
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Dorothea finds Mr. Casaubon Dead. Drawn by Taylor There is an impressive silent dignity in the bowed form of dead Mr. Casaubon in the summer-house (from Middlemarch), which many artists would have missed. When she entered the Yew-tree Walk, she could not see her husband; but the walk hadbends, and she went, expecting to catch sight of his figure wrapped in a blue cloak, which, witha warm velvet cap, was his outer garment on chill days for the garden. It occurred to her thathe might be resting in the summer-house, towards which the path diverged a little. Turning theangle, she could see him seated on the bench, close to a stone table. His arms were resting onthe table, and his brow was bowed down on them, the blue cloak being dragged forward andscreening his face on each side. AMERICAN ART 327 He exhausted himself last night, Dorothea said to herself, thinking at first that he wasasleep, and that the summer-house was too damp a place to rest in. But then she rememberedthat of late she

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