The daily Gate City. [volume] (Keokuk, Iowa) 1855-1916, 1857-03-03
ALICE READE.
(Concludod.l

AAhS1 - 1n ~
(Concludeds)
"Well, Alice, what can do for you this
morning ?" Mr.. Rsade leisurely drew ON his
glasses as he asked the question, CHANGING
admiringy at the graceful position Of his
wife, as she sat in her easy chair, her head
cushioned on its crimson back.
lie was portly, pompous looking man,
with shrewd, sell. satisfied kind Of physi-
ognomy-a 6ne, we'll preserved, elderly gen.
tleman on the whole.
81 thank you. don't want anything, Mr..
Reade, UNLESS"
swell, speak out, my dear"
"Didn't you promise me new diamond
pin last week ?''
She looked up from the figure on the rug
with smile dimpling her mouth, which few
husbands would have resisted.
$50 did, dear child, and see you want
it tonight for the party. Well, you shall
have il for two kisses"
"No, shan't either, for I've pins enough
already; but" crossing her hands cosxingly
on his arm, 81 want the money very much Tor
something else. It's great secret; 20 don't
please ask anything about it, only say may
have it,"
GA thousand dollars to throw away on
scCretg LXU2Ve89ut, AHce.
| Mr.. Reade drew in his breath, but there
was smile lurking in his eyes, and his wife
knew that oil was right.
Mr.. Rsade!" was the words that followed
the millionaire down stairs.
| II was o high chamber in . dilapidated
brick row, and miserably destitute. A few
ashes were smouldering on the hearth, and
BY their side sat shivering, starving moth
er and her child.
Smother, mother, won't papa come home
pretty soon, and bring me cake" asked
the boy.
81 hope 30, dear little boy. Oh, il be can
only sell one Of the pictures 7"
| 1t was pitiful, the sob in the wnman's
voice, the tone half despairing, in which she
spoke this. She was young, and very pretty
still, even with her pale, pinched face, and
the sorrow that looked out Of her large blue
eyes.
There was no great force Of character in
the face, it is true. You felt it was not one
to meet calmly, de6antly, the great trial
hours Of life, but it was sweet, womAnly, and
oh, 80 very sorrowful! The boy, Of some
| five summers, was not like his mother. The
tone OF his face, from the broad forehead to
his small full mouth, was stronger and deep
er. Even his large hazel eyes and brown
hair was his fathers.
And then to think Of the husband and
father, with his sensitive, esthetic nature,
and his proud high spirit reduced to this
Oh, Lucius Brante, il might have been weak
ness and sin, hat it was hardly strange that
you had gone Udt from the old chamber that
day, with these words in your heart, "Suo-
cess or suicidei'
The boy drew up closer to bis mother, and
she put her arms tenderly about him, but che
did not speak for fear the tears would come.
With all his rare gifts, the artist father had
never painted so touching picture.
Another hour went BY, and there was the
quick ring of feet on the old stair cass, and
something in the sound, which gave . new
the dying ashes. The door burst open, and
Lucius Brante, rushed wildly in, and threw
heavy purse into his wife's lap. Was the
man mad? For he clasped her and the
| frightened child one moment in his arms and
threw them up, triumphantly laughing and
shouting, while the tears ran down his proud
face, as they would down the face of little
child.
-'What does it mean, Lucius? Speak to
me !" gasped the young wife, shaking from
head to foot.
81 have saved you, Eelen Newell! Thank
God-thank God! There 10 thousand dol.
lars in that purse. Oh, Ii seems - il must
be dreaming, as il this great, sudden, good
could not be true -
Sand Who was it bought them, Lucius ?n
asked the wife, through her glad tears.
"The mans name (blcssings on it) was
Watkins. He bought four Of nv pictures.
selecting them from oil the others in the col.
lection, and paid ne two hundred and sftv
dollars piece! He was plain, ordinary
looking man, too, apparently not much of
connoisseur in paintings either. But could
have fallen down at his feet and worshipped
him."
"PAps, papa, did you bring the cake p,'
and the soft cheek Of the child Was pressed
up to his fathers.
"No dear" gathering him to his heart,
"but will get you dozen now; and New.
oil and mamma shall never be hungry again,
We will have hre, and such supper q vs
have not bad tor years. God has sent HE
angel whom the darkness WAS deepest. Let
US thank him." and they knelt down there,
on the old hearth bricks, in the gathering
night darkness, and the prayer Of the artist
seemed heart hallelajsh, that must have
reached up through the songs OF seraph and
1 -As18Ss
"Wsll, Watkins, my good man, did ron get
the pictures p'
Alice Reade asked the question with
breathless eagerness, ~ she met her servant
ct the door.
"fes, ms'am. Here they are, safe and
sound, four of 'em," said the man, busting
nystsriously into the apartment, and depos.
ting the large package on the tAble-for
Watkins was m especial fAvorits with both
has master and mistress.
and did you zee the artist ?"
"Yes, ma'am, and paid the thousand dol.
lars into his own hands. He seemed struck
dumb with astonishment. He's had some
hard russell with life, l think. Some
how il did me good 70 pay down the money. ;,
added the shrewd and kind hearted man.
"You remembered my charge? And he
thought they we're purchased for yourself %
Gin course he did. could have got ,em
for twentieth part Of tho money, but you
said he Vas to have il all, and l - Nv own
mira yT;1t ~ a.