True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1856-08-06


and dollars into his own hands, He
seemed struck dumb with astonishment.
He's had some hard tussels with life, l
reckon. Somehow it did me good to
plank down the money" added the
shrewd, but kind hearted man servant.
"And you remembered my charge !
And he thought they were purchased for
yourself!" "4 .... %' "-., 8
3" In course he did. / could have got
them for a twentieth part Of the money,
but you said he was to have it all and
so set my own price. Will you have
EN- hung in the parlor 7" ~ .., w. 3
"No. / will take care Of them. Not
even Mr.. Reade must know 1 have pur-
chased them. You understand, Wat
kins /" ~ o . f' ."-@ Ht
There was a significant answer in the
mans face as he bowed himself out Of the
room. s- 5..N t-'
Alice's aunt was dying. ~ ,..
"Alice, Alice, come nearer TO me-"
said the dying woman, and she drew
down her cousins head almost TO her
lips. r'-' ~, & t.' -.>
Alice Reade's face grew white as the
death stricken one beneath it, while the
struggling, disjointed sentenc ce came over
Mrs. Henley's lips. o''E~
"That letter-you remember ? Lu-
cius Brante did not write it. He knew
nothing of it. He was not false to you.
| wrote it that you might marry" a
convulson left her speechless, but her dy-
ing eyes prayed Forgive me - So
This last year had made Alice Reade
a better woman, and her white lips an
swered the question Of those dim eyes
with solemn earnestness. "l rr.
May God forgive you, aunt Jane
freely as do ~ and taking that forgive
ness with it, the soul Of Jane Henley
went out from that gorgeous death cham.
Der 10 its God. '.. ..H
Five years had passed. The Florence
sunset looked serenely into the studio o.
the artist, and the light Florence winds
moved up from the vallies, where they
had lain bound all day among the tall
grass and the rich crimson blooms. at
is very beautiful" said the lady, break.
ing the long silence which had followed
a longer conversation, as she turned her
deep eyes from the purple clouds 10 hel
companions face. .a
Yes, Alice, very beautiful. Do you
remember how we used 10 watch them
at the kitchen window of the old yellow
brown homestead, ten years ago!"
The beautiful eyes filled with tears.
There was another long pause.
1t is very strange l met you among
The mountains last week, neither know.
ing that the other was widowed neither
dreaming that the heart Of each was true
to its first love - .s. . -.,
You will forgive aunt Jane, Lucius
She love d me, and,it was her ambition
instigated the falsehood." The lady's
tones were very earnest.
Certainly, Alice. God has reached
out to me so many rich blessings, tina
there is only room for gratitude in my
soul. Look there. 1t was just as saw
them when l broke into the chamber tha
night, when the turning point in my ca
reer came, and have walked on to wealth
and fame ever since" ..,, r4t
Lucius Brante drew aside the covering
and the sunset poured all over The paint
ing like a sudden baptism from heav
en-. ..'l, F!
1t would have brought the tears init
your eyes with the first glance.
A mother and her child sat together
over heap Of smouldering ashes.
Both were very beautiful, but tier
was a mingling of dependency and ten
derness in the mothers face-a look o
patient waiting in the boys dark eyes
which over reaches all description.
aGod must have sent His angel /
that mans heart. or he would nevel
have bought my pictures. always be-
lieved it, Alice"
And the artists soul glowed in hi
proud face as he turned it to his compan
ion. ,, .....t, .....,.
Their eyes met a moment. Luciu
Brante had read them many times before
1t was hardly strange that he now trans
lated the thought, which the lips beneath
them would not for worlds have uttered
/ "Alice, you had something to do will
those pictures p .a,.,.,, ..,. /.
Heltears answered him, An hour Ia
ter he had drawn all from her--an hou
{ later he knew she was the earthly Savio
/ ofhimself, his wife and his child! .s.
|, II was one Of life's consecrated hours
j I cannot look into it u FRI
|, But the next week, Newell Brante
! the brown haired child Of the artist
\ bought many flowers Of the country chil
dren who brought wild roses from tn
y fields about Florence, saying, with hi
! fathers smile, III shall have a neI
mother to night" go s. + 4,
ETThe poets and scholars Of th
: Icorntrx, ar.nanr n faka an unna,iol inter