The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1857-10-08

leiG my poor master Snuouer "a ne stOoQ.
The Lady Jean rose to bid the artist adieu.
She had seemed agitated during the sitting at
times, but was quite calm now.
Farewell" she said, and stretched out her
hand to him with look, first of the Earls
daughter, then of the acomaR only; the woman,
gentle, kindly, even tender, yet never forgetting
herself or her maidenly reserve.
81 thank you" she added, !" not merely for
this, (she laid her band on mel but for your
companionship and she paused as if she
would fam have ssid friendship, yet feared.
You have done me good you have elevated
my mind and from you have learned, what
else might never have done, reverence for
man. God bless yea with life full of honor
and fame, and, what is rarer still, happiness )"
She half sighed, extended her hand without
looking toward him he clasped it moment,
and then-she was gone
My master startec dizzily round, fell on his
knees beside me, and groaaed on. the anguish
of his spirit. His only words were, Jean, Jean,
so good, so pure Thou, the Earl's daughter,
and | the poor artist" AS he departed, he
moaned them out once more, kisses passionately
the Lady Jean, believing him CONT and coming
to catch the precious likeness, b. silently en-
tered and seen him thus.
She stood awhile In silence, gazing the way
he had gone, her arms foldeli on her heaving
breast She whispered to herself. g Obi noble
heart Oh noble heart ~ ard her eyes light
ened, and look of rapturoun pride, not pride
of rank, dawned in the face of the Earl's daugh-
ter. Then she, too, knelt, and kissed me, but
solemnly, even with tears.
The next day, which was to have been that
of her forced marriage with Sir Anthony, Lady
Jean had fed. She escaped in the night, Ia
king with her only her old nurse and me,
whom she hid in her bosom.
"You would not follow the poor artist to
wed him ? +" said the purse
"NeverI" answered the Lady Jean. 81
would live alone by the labor Of my hands
but / will keep true to him till my death.
For my father who has cursed me, and cast
me off, here l renou6ce my lineage; and am
no longer an Earrs daughter"
So she went forth, ind her place knew her
no more.
For months, even years, lay shut up in
darkness, scarcely ever exposed to the light of
day; but / did not Durmur; | knew that l
was kept as you mortals keep your hearts best
treasure, in the silence and secrecy OF. love-
Sometimes, late at night, pale, wearied hand
would unclasp my coverings, and face, worn
indeed, but having sweet repose, such as
had never seen in that OF the former Lady
Jean, would come and berd over me with an
intense gaze, as intense as that of Norman
Bethune, under which had glowed into life.
Poor Norman if he bad bet known.
All this while l never beard my masters
name. Lady Jean Tor Mistress Jean, as now
heard her called) never uttered it, even to
solitude and me. But once, Shen she had
shut herself up in her poor chamber, she sat
reading some papers with smilts 3, oftener with
loving tears, and then placed the fragments
with me in my hiding place; and so-some
magic bond existed between Iay master and
me, his souPs child saw Ginning in the
dark, the name of Norman BettWne, and read
all that Lady Jean had read. Ee had become
a great man, renowned artist; and these
were the public chronicles of b's success. /,
the pale reflex of the face which Norman had
loved-the face which more THAI any other in
the world would brighten at tt E echo of his
fame-even my faint being beca ne penetrated
with an almost human Joy.
One night Lady Jean took mt out with an
agitated hand. She had dotted her ordinary
Dress which now changed the daughter of an
Earl into the likeness of a poor sentlewoman.
She looked something like her olden self
like me; the form Of the dress vas the same !;
l saw she made it scrupulOusly i Ee; but there
was neither velvet, nor lace, no pearls, only
once more placed in her bosom.
81 am glad to find my chile at last won
out into society,"" said the nurse, hobbing in,
though the folks she will meet, Aoor authors,
artists, musicians, and such like, are unmeet
company for the Lady jean"
But not for the simple jean Douglass"
she answered, gently smiing-ths smile not of
girlhood, but Of matured womanTood, that has
battled with and conquered adversely and
when the nurse had gone, she .ook me out
again, murmuring, marvel will he know me
now?"
| heard her come home that niHIt. 1t was
late; but she took me up once mote, and look
ed at me with strange joy, though mingled
with tears-yet the only words l heard her
say we're those she had uttered once before, in
the dim years past" Oh! noble heart thrice
noble heart " and she fell on her, knees and
prayed.
My dear master the author CT my being
p met his eyes once more. He took me in his
hand, and locked at me with playful compass
sion, not quite free from emotion.
And this was how l painted it 1t was
scarce worth keeping, Lsdy JEAN"
=" Mistress Jean, pray you; the name best
suits me now, Mr.. Bethune," she ssid, with gen.
tie dignity.
1
it brighten with the most passionate admira.
ton, as it turned on the Lady Jear of old but
never did | see look such as tibet which fell
on Jean Douglass now-earnest, tender, calm,
its boyish idolatry changed into thnt reverence
with which man turns to the woman who
to him is above all women. In it one could
trace the whole life's history of Norman Be-
thune.
"Jean," he said, SO gently, so naturally,
that she hardly started 10 hear BIN use the
familiar name, "have you in truth given up
al2"
"Nay, all have forsakEn me, but fear not !;
though stand alone, Heaven has protected me,
and will evermore."
" Amsnl" said Norman Bethune. "Par.
don me; but our brief acquainta ace-a few
weeks then, few weeks now-see ms to COM
prehend lifetime"
And he took her hand, but timcrorsIy, as if
she were again the EarPs daughter ard he the
poor artist. She too trembled aid changed
color, less like the pale, serene Jeaa douglass
than the bonnie Lady jean, whose gi Iish por.
trait he once drew.
Norman spoke again; and speali his
grave manhood seemed to conceptra ,e ali its
subdued passion in the words i
Years have changed, in soDe measure,
my fortunes at least, though-not mi. I-once
the unknown artist-noW sit at pril cely tables,
and visit in noble halls. I am glad for honor
to me is honor to my Drt, as it ihould be-"
And his face was lifted with ,ble pride.
But" he added, in . beautiful humility.
Though less unworthy towards me ], am still
unworthy towards you. If / were % WOO you,
should do so not as al artist WHO cared to
seek an Earl's daughter, but as man who felt
that his best deserts wire poor, Compared to
those CT the woman he Jas loved al his life,