The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1867-08-22
VOLUME 49,
last to laugh at you, l who admire you SO

: got my position as tutor entirely | STAN
mered out some hurried, silly declaration Q
love, and felt as if my very existence de
pended upon the very effect it would make
can remember the sensation now, gray OLE
bachelor as | am; and have not forgotten
the awful feeling of disappointment at tn,
) ringing laugh which greeted my outburs
of romance
be- Mr. Westwood l: is really too absurd
me how to paint, and you actually begin tc
talk about love, like Don Quixotte or per.
son in play"
And the lively, arch, round, supple bright
eyed girl laughed again with intense amuse-
ment. was piqued; she had made me look
foolish; she had ridiculed my tenderest
hopes. | had pictured something quite diff
ferent to this, and had seen myself, by her
desire, sueing for her hand at the feet Of
that old griffin, her aunt, in the cathedral
close.
'Now, don't be silly any more, Mr. West.
wood, and I'll promise never to mention
what has occurred. 1t is too absurd, you
know"
"Well, perhaps it is" said without I'M
derstanding her, but with an intense sense
of being absurdly foolish.
"There," she said, passing from the sub
ject with the supremest Indifference ''please
to look at that, and tell Inc if you think |
shall ever paint, and will you teach me? l
have asked aunt and she is willing to fit
me up studio of my own"
From beneath her cloak she produced a
| hif IF 0iI
ing branches of beech tree. 1t was an au-
tumn sketch, full of rough unstudied effects
of light and shade that for the moment as
tonished me nightly. There was evidence
of the amateur; but the vigor, the depth of
tone of the unstuded touches were almost
startling. -s-.4..-
''This is yours ?'' I said coldly.
eyes, she said, beuding her head, and
looking confused.
sit was very clever; you will paint"
said
20, thank you, thank you, Mr.. West wood
she said, looking up with great earnestness.
81 was afraid you would laugh at it; aunt
called it red and yellow daub."
Here is he secret then, thought. Her
genius has made itself manifest to her she
is under its persistent influence.
81 would give the world to paint will
succeed and you must help me-"
did help her, during many a happy,
happy hour, in that studio overlooking the
river, and in the dear old Greta woods, aud
on the grand Teesdale moors. That bit
beneath Tito by the fireplace is study she
made under my eye in the bed of the Tees.
Notice the rock down beneath the water,
the liquid amber stream, which Sir Walter
Scott sung about. Something like color,
| that.
In less than twelve months she painted
far better than her tutor, who before half
that time had passed, was her slave in ev-
erything. have sat and watched her and
loved her like young fellow can love, and
she knew it. But if there was ever the
faintest attempt at pointed homage on my
part, she would pooh pooh the whole thing
with an indifference to my feelings which
often struck me as heartless in the extreme
Sometimes went home half mad with rage
and wounded pride, and determined to leave
the place forever; but morning brought, new
hope, and longing to see Edith, longing to
be at her side, to hear her speak, ay, if ouly
to vince at her cynical laugh, and her oft.
repeated saying, that Glove was the great
est nonsense she had ever heard of, paint
ing the grandest of arts" ..~
| never could comprehend her. By de-
grees came to think of her in the light of
a sort of intellectual Undine, before the hui
man soul tempered the waywardness of the
fairy. She seemed to possess everything
that make women lovely and lovable, but
the one thing above all others most essen.
tial-a Woman's heart
One morning received note from her
aunt, in which | was informed that the les
sons must cease, as Miss Viner was going
to leave the Northern city
hurried to the house, and met on the
doorstep, big, mustached, dark fellow. |
asked for Miss Viner, as usual She came
running down stairs; and at her call of
edward! Edward, dearl" the gentleman
turned round and followed her into the
drawing room.
''Come in, Mr.. Westwooa pray come in, >,
she said 'Iet me introduce you to Captain
Howard, of the Bombay Artillery. Mr..
Westwood, Captain Howard"
We bowed stihy to each other, and
looked for an explanation.
81 see you are puzzled, Mr.. Westwood.
Tomorrow Captain Howard is to be nv
husband, and we leave here en- route for In.
dia the next day.
shall not attempt to describe nv feel.
ings; | fear they were made very apparent
at the time. Anger and contempt had.
surely, some share in the expression of nv
poor stupid face on that occasion; but
could only see cool indifference Oh Edith's
l turned to go away but Miss Viner pre-
"Here, " she said, sis little present be-
fore 60 hope you will treasure Tiny
palette. | shall never paint again"
There was something peculiarly sad in
the tone of voice in which she said, Il shall
never paint again"
The next day she had left the old CITY
with her husband. How wished myself a
boy again, painting puppets in that little
back room In the Western city! l have
painted many one since, for that matter.
By the way, have lately learnt that
when Miss links died, the ChaIkses pur-
chased the Gallery of Arts, =" and combined
the two establishments How little we
know who will step into our shoes when we
are gone! Perhaps our greatest enemy may
quietly seat himself in our OVID chair in the
favorite freside corner. Thank heaven I,
science cannot penetrate the future. We
look upon the tangled welt as we spin it;
but VIC know nothing of the lines, and
curves, and broken threads to come.
II-EVRHING.
A Tilted old bachelor, am II Well, if you
like that is my character. And am silly
enough to hang on to the garment of mem
DRY, and make fool of myself over an old
palette that belonged to schoolgirl.
often wondered if she saw the notices OF
my works in the papers. Of course she did.
They all got the journals at Bombay. Hard
work is a good thing when you are in troub-
lie Some fellows labor away on claret; some
work, as they say, on beer only; some on a
dry pipe. ! worked on dry heart breaking