The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1867-04-18
THE PAINTERS WIFE.

THE PAINIER'S WIFE.
but you have not told me yet, Cyrilla,
what incident the picture is intended to
represent.
1T is intended to illustrate the story OF
'Ginevra' as told in Rodgers Haly. |
dare say you recollect the poem in ques-
tion?"
20 yes> I remember all about Frances
co Doria and his youthful bride; and how
the latter bid herself in an old chest on
her wedding day and was smothered and
her body not found for ever so many
years afterwards.
That is just the point-where Ginevra
Is about to hide hersel-that Theodore
Is trying to illustrate. [ have sat to him
l don know how many times already. I"
And a very good likeness it is of you,
my dear. And the chest in which she is
about to hide herself is painted from
that real chest in the corner there 1t
looks hundreds of years old, Dear, dear!
it's quite wonderful But L thought
painters always invented such things out
of their own heads
The speakers were aunt and niecc-the
latter, a fair and slender girl of twenty,
with slngularly youthful expression of
face for one who was both wife and a
mother The time was half past nine on
certain autumn evening some half dozen
years ago. and the place was pleasant
home like room in small villa in one of
the westerly suburbs of London.
The mention of these Italian names,
Cyrilla,' said Mrs Reese presently,
puts me in mind of an old admirer q
yours, Signer Pietro Fastini. By the by,
do you know where he now is.
'.No. Where p said Cyrilla quickly
I'm lunatic asylum. He went crazy
about year ago and has been under re-
straint ever since. don't think you
treated him well, Cyrilla, to encourage
his attentions, and then to cast him off
III the way you did. y
Cyrllla's check paled suddenly; she
sank into chair, and did not speak for
a minute or two. You have been mis-
aunt, she said at last. Sig
nor Fastlnl never received the slightest
encouragement from me. | was attract
ed towards him by his great musical tai
ent; but 1t was his own presumption
that drew him on to speak to me as he
did. Nevertheless, L am truly grieved to
hear of the athiction that has overtaken
him"
Cyrilla sat thinking deeply for some
time after her aunt departure going, in
memory, through all those phases of her
life in which the young Italian had been
an actor. Her reverie was brought to
an end by the clock on the manteI piece
Ginning eleven.
She got up from her seat with little
sigh, and went into hes dressing room,
which opened out of the room in which
she had been sitting, and bathed her hands
and face; and changed her evening dress
for a comfortable white wrapper; and
her yellow hair, letting it fall in
a rich sheaf down her shoulders for
Theodore had gone out tonight to sup
per party given by a brother artist who
was about TO enter the holy state of mat
rimony, and she had promised to sit up
for him. and Theodore, on his part. had
promised to be home SOON after midnight.
Gong back into the sitting room, Cyril
la rang the bell, and presently nurse came
IN with baby, who, being well behaved
young gentleman, was happily fast asleep
at this late hour. He was deposited in
pretty little cot close by his mother side
L on can go to bed, nurse, and the other
servants can do the same, said Mrs.
Il will set up for master
myself See that the doors and windows
are all fastened before you 60 up stairs.
When the woman was gone, Cyrilla
stirred UP the low fire On the hearth into
a itful blaze and then took up the first
volume of a novel which had been brought
her that afternoon from the library
Theodore would be home in an hour at
the fartherest, and the time would pass
pleasantly and uI,ickly away
a pleasant, coy, home-hke picture
the pretty, girlish wife coiled up grace
fully, In her husbands huge easy chair
tie sleeping child the room itself, with
its walls half hidden with sketches, prints,
and water colors, with the easel in one
corner, and the pianoforte in another
with Cyrilla S work basket on side table
in company with a meerschaum, big and
brown, and a tobacco jar after the antique.
A pleasant picture, and one which Theo-
dore Ihornhurst, artist from the top of
his head to the sole of his foot, would not
fail to note when he should come STEP
ping leisurely In through one of the three
French windows opening on to the lawn,
which had just been draped, ready for
winter, with curtains of crimson damask,
in place of the muslin ones which had
shaded them through the summermo
Cyrilla read on undisturbed for about
half an hour, aud at the end of which
time baby began to grow restless so she
laid down her book, and began to rock
the cot with a slow, gentle motion, aud
at the same time to sing, in minor kew, 4
the exquisite cradle song from The Prin-
Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea;
Low. low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea,
Singing thus, she lifted the child tender
ly out of its cot, kissed it fondly, and car
ried it through the dressing room into
the chamber beyond, and there laid it
snugly in bed. Presently she came back,
still humming the music of the song un-
der her. breath, and leaving the door of
the dressing room half way open behind
her, SO that she might the more. readily
hear her darling, should he awake and
cry out. Then she sat down again in her
husband 8 easy chair, and went on with
her novel; But the under current of her
thoughts was with her husband; and
presently she glanced up at the timepiece
on the mantle-shelf, only to discover that
it had come to dead stop some ten min
utes previously, for want Of winding up
She pat down her book, and rose at once
to perform the necessary duty, for the
voice of the little clock sounded like that
of friend in her lonely watching. How
the words of that song haunted her mem
DRY!
Sweet and low. sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea-
She was winding up the timepiece slowly
and carefully. and humming the song to
herself, and as she did so-wnat woman
would not have done the same ?-she
glanced at the reflection of herowa pretty