The Untold Tale

Love's Messenger- Marie Spartali Stillman

(a work of fiction inspired by this painting...)

"Effie," Marie called out to her daughter one more time, when she walked into her painting. It had faded overtime, but she still remembered how it came to be. In fact it had been one of her first and finest works. She had never told anyone the story, because it wasn't hers to tell. But maybe it was time for her ever - curious daughter to know who the lady in the painting really was.

***

Every day she watched her aunt stand beside the window, waiting; as if something should happen today. But every day was yet again the same as yesterday. The look of pure anticipation she saw every morning as her aunt sat down with her embroidery, by the open French window always turned to deep sorrow by dusk. And this happened every day, for as long as Marie could remember.

Nothing was different today. The day began the same way it always did. Marie saw her aunt take her place by the window in the drawing room. Never saying a word, and barely responding to her niece's consistent greetings. Marie was overcome by a deep sense of curiosity and sadness for her aunt. Her aunt's actions spoke of an infinite wait of a loved one and a heart being broken into yet another piece every day.

Marie imagined what would happen if her aunt's wait ever did come to end. She wondered if her aunt would ever go back to being the wild child she had been in the tales that Marie had heard her mother so often recount.

From all Marie had heard, her aunt had been quite a riot. There never was a day in which someone in the household had escaped her aunt's pranks or a day in which the neighbour's eternal distaste of this loud, fair maiden unvoiced. They said her eyes twinkled with mischief when she woke up in the mornings. And did so until the soldiers had marched up the lands and surrounded them, occupying all inns and motels in the village. Even then her aunt had against the advice of the elders, jumped across the fence and gone to the lake where she went daily. This had continued in secret until it was time for the soldiers to abandon this shelter and move to a new abode.

All the villagers silently cheered as the soldiers left their homeland; except for one fair maiden. She silently wept at their departure. She wore a rose and silently prayed, by the lake, that they return one day. It is said that she lost herself at the lake that day. Her aunt was never the same again.

Marie prayed for that lively soul to return. She hoped to see the mischievous gleam in those eyes yet again. But this was a wait that could only end with the last of her aunt's breath, Marie knew. So she looked at her aunt that day. She observed the lovely gown her aunt had adorned, the rose that she wore. She noted the patterns of the needle and thread on her aunt's embroidery. Most of all she saw the unusual piece her aunt was working. A cupid she saw, however, it was not the cupid that caught her attention. The cupid was blind - folded. It was beautiful, but somehow this made Marie even sadder. This made her realize her aunt's plight; her aunt was aware of her futile wait, yet she was going to do it all the same.

At that instant Marie decided that her aunt should be remembered. Marie was a skilled artist and she knew of only one way to immortalize her aunt; so she decided to etch her aunt into canvas using her water colours. But she also wanted to show the world her aunt's real passion, so she began her strokes on the canvas. An idea taking over her actions. She saw her aunt come to life on the canvas, the gown, the rose, the piece of embroidery; but she also added a dove which would carry a letter. She hoped that this could have been an alternate reality for her aunt and maybe then she could have found the answers to her questions and solace in that letter.

Years later Marie's daughter, Euphrosyne (Effie) would learn this story of her great aunt. And maybe they'd keep it a family secret. But her aunt would always be remembered.