For she had painted Karl's face as it was just before he went into the
silence. She had caught the look which illumined his face that day on his
death bed when she told him what she had done. She had painted Karl as he
was in that moment of perfect understanding--the joy which was uplift,
the knowledge which was glory. She had perpetuated in her picture the
things which Karl took with him from life. It was Karl in the supreme
moment of his life--the moment of revelation, transfiguration, the moment
which lighted all the years.
It was triumph which she had perpetuated in the picture. She was saying
to the world--He did not achieve what he set out to achieve, but can you
say he failed when he left the world with a soul like this?
He saw that it was what she had done with light which made the picture,
from the standpoint of her art, supreme. The critics said that no one had
ever done just that thing with light before--painted light in just that
spirit of loving and understanding it; less light, indeed, than light's
significance.
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