Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1867-02-20


gives me pleasure she continued with a
quiet dignity befitting her rank and wo-
manhood 8 to not only make the acquaint-
ance of the promising artist, but the good
man." All me, it was mercy Norman
Bethune did not annihilate my airy exist
ence altogether with that hurried dash of
his pencil it made the mouth somewhere
awrv, as YOU may see to this day.
There was d hastv summons from the
earl, g That himself and Sir Anthony de-
sired the presence of the Lady Jean" An
expression of pain, half Of anger, crossed
her face, as She replied Say that | at
tend my father | believe she added,
1--WE must end the sitting for to-day.
Will YOU leave the miniature here, Mr..
Bethune ?''
The artist muttered something about
working on it at home, with Lady Jeans
permission and as one of the attendants
touched me, he snatched me up with such
anxiety that he had very nearly destroyed
his own work
All 'twould be unco like her bonnie
face gin she were as blithe as she this
morn. But that Gamma be, wi dour
father like the earl, and an uncomely,
wicked wooer like Sir Anthony. Hech sir,
but | am wac for the Leddy Jean -
knew not why Norman should have
listened to the auld wfe's clavers." nor
why. as he carried me home. | should have
felt his heart beating against me to de-
gree that sadly endangered my young ten
der life. | suppose it was his sorrow for
having thus spoilt my half-dry color that
made him not show me to his mother though
she asked him, and also from the same
cause that he sat half the night contemplate
ing the injury he had done
Again and again the young artist went
to the castle, and my existence slowly grew
from day TO day; though never was there
painting whose infancy lasted so long.
Yet | loved my creator, tardy though he
was, for | felt that he loved me, and that
in every touch of his pencil he infused in
to me some portion of his soul. Often
they came and stood together. the artist
and the earl's daughter locking at me.
They talked, she dropping aristocratic
hauteur, which hid somewhat immature
mind, ignorant less from will than from
circumstance and neglect. While he, for
getting his worldly rank, rose to that
which nature and genius gave him. Thus
: both unconsciously fell into their true po-
sition a. man and woman, teacher and
learner, the greater and the less.
If Another sitting and the miniatute
/ will be complete. | fear. murmurcd Nor
ot man, with a conscience stricken look a he
i. bent over me. his fair hair almost touching
n my ivory y carc>> sweet. though no long
N ger new to me for many time his lips
b,rt this i +..iIiY.- t.,I. NJ 4
Or painted Vet not ~oullcss eyes, looked AT
le my master, a. did others, Of which mine
i were but the poor and feeble shadow
:, Both eyes, the living and the lifeless, were
J. now dwelling on his countenance which |
# have not vet described. nor need |. Never
II yet was there beautiful soul that did not
! stamp upon the outward man some reflex
: of itself: and therefore, whether Norman
in Bethune's face and figure were perfect or
ID not. matters not.
) d" 1t is nearly finished" mechanically
y said the Lady Jean. She looked dull that
:. day, and her eyelids were heavy a. with
er tears-tears which a. | heard many q
r. whisper saw harsh father gave her just
&c cause to shed.
N Yes. YES | ought to finish it." hur-
)r riedly replied the artist. as if more i'll
,e answer to his own thoughts than to her
g. and he began to paint but evermorC
" something was wrong. He could not work
y well +; and then the Lady Jean was sum
n moned away, returning with weary look
,e in which wounded feeling struggled with
pride. Once too, we plainly heard | know
pr my master did, for he clenched his hand,
ID the while the earls angry voice. and Sil
te Anthony's hoarse laugh and when the
I Lady Jean came back. 1t with pale
of stern look, pitiful in one soyoung As she
,d resumed the sitting, her thoughts evidently
At were wandering for two great tears stole
IS into her eyes, and down her checks. Well
III a-day my master could not paint them
:. but he felt them in his heart His brush
" fell-his chest heaved with emoton-h'
iv advanced a step, murmurng . Jean, Jean.
tn without the Lady - then recollectec
. himself and with great struggle resumed
v his brush and went painting on. She
v had never once looked or stirred.
st The last sitting came-it was hurrie,
and brief. for there seemed something no
rs quite right in the house and "a came
p to the castle, Norman and | for he ha'
ut rot in the habit of always taking me home
r with him heard something about ''mar
n riage, p" and . Sir Anthony" | felt m,
lie, poor master shudder as he stood.
IS The Lady Jean rose to bid the arts
BY adieu. She had seemed agitated durin,
the sitting at times, but was quite cain
? now.
ng Farewell she said. and stretched on
d. her hand to him with look first Of tn
a earl's daughter, then Of the woman only
Ie- the woman, gentle kindly, even tender, We
w never forgetting herself or her madenlv re
| serve.
III . thank you," she added, mot mere
es for this (she laid her hand me) but 70
Ia your companonshp - and she paused a
mt if she would tain have said friendship, We
as feared q" You have done me good : yo
have elevated my mind and from you
4 !; have learned, what else | might never hav
lt, done, reverence for man. God bless vo
10, with life full of honor and fame an
tie what is rarer still, happiness - She hal
RS sighed, extended her hand without lookin
o toward him ; he clasped it moment. an
ess then-she was gone
nd NV master stared dizzily round. fell 0
he his knees beside me and groaned out tn
th anguish of his spirit His only word
les were. jean. Jean, SO good 80 pure ThoI
,ss the earl's daughter, and | the poor artist
III As ne departed he moaned them out ono
more, kissed passionately my unresponsiy
nv image, and fled; but not the Lad