Port Tobacco times, and Charles County advertiser. (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1845-1898, 1873-08-22
promise | had come under-to paint
her 7,Ortrait from, Y,oon,oru

promise L had come under-tO paint
her portrait from memory.
Would she come and claim the pic
ture? Was I to send it to her? And
where? I must come to some finding
before we part. Meantime, in the first
gray dawn, the train stopped at Berlin
where We changed carriages. For a
moment I turned to gather together
my small impedimenta; when Iresum-
ed my position I was the sole occupant
of the compartment. Hoping to en-
counter my sometime companion in the
crowded station, made haste to getout.
My efforts were in vain, was locked
in. Presently the guard came with his
key and let me out. s'There is trick
cry here" I said, in some heat. GA
lady turned the handle of'your locked
door easily enough, and has been my
travelling companion since midnight. .
"Impossible!" and the guard shrug-
ged his shoulders incredulously. The
key had been in his pocket all the time.
[ shook my head, but there was no time
for parley, and without another
glympse of the fair incognita, resum-
ed my journey.
Once more in Dresden, and amidst
the realism of the old, familiar life. the
midnight episode of my journey began
to fade into trick Of a fevered and O.
ver-wearied brain. And as I glanced
at the entry in my book, I reflect
ed how completely disordered imag-
ination may fool man. At the same
time, l resolved some leisure day to
trace out my dream on canvas; but alb
sorbed in immediate study, l then post
poned my intention. Weeks rolled on,
and went to Berlin to look up col
lege chum, who was temporarily locat-
ed it that city. When I got to his
quarters, Unter den Linden, I found
that some weeks previously he had been
hastily recalled to England, and an
other Englishman reigned in his stead.
AS | turned from the door slightly cha
grined, [ encountered the tenant of
Locksley's rooms, evidently returning
from stroll.
4zA fine old man of the genuine tyne
of courtly English gentlemen, now
rarely to be met. He politely accost-
ed me, and in a few words / told him
of my disappointment. "Do confer a
kindness on me-" he said, "and stop
and dine. / am quite alone, and it is
pleasant to hear ones mother tongue
in this land of strangers.
We exchanged cards, and accepted
his invitation as cordially as it was of
fered. By degrees we fell into the
most amicable relations with one an
other; and presently he told me, with
rears in his eyes, that within the last
few weeks he had been bereft of wife
and daughter-all he had of best and
loveliest, and was quite alone.
Then Istrove to turn his sad thoughts
into another channel, and by-and-by
we fell into art talk.
"Could you, Mr.. Stanley" said my
host, 'paint portrait from minute
verbal descriptions" feared not, but
would try. On whatnot at the 9TH
er end of the room [ found paper and
colors, and [ brought my materials to
the table where we sat over our wine.
"Now, Mr.. st. John, describe and
will draw. In a hushed voice he mi
nutely detailed the items of a face. l
made my sketch. No, it was rejected
as unlike. Another-alike unsuccess-
full. A verbal description failed to
give my pencil the power of catching
the expression Of the dear familiar face.
"They tell me-" said the old man, in
low, moody tone, as if he unconscious
ly thought aloud, ''they tell me that
at the last she bore the mark of cru
ell blow on her cheek. She, my tender,
one eve lamb, that I was fain to shell
ter in my bosom from every rough
wind that blew"
Overwhelmed by bitter tide of rec
objection, the old man covered his face
with his hands and sank into silence
Those few anguished words, dropping
like blood from wounded heart, at
once recalled the face of the unknown
travelling companion of my midnight
Journey. Once more [ saw before me
the pale, perfect face, with sorrowfu]
eyes and liyid mark on the left cheek.
At last fulfilled my neglected prom
ise, and taking my pencil, rapidly
sketched her portrait from memory
Silently I placed my work before Mr.
st. John. cit is she! it is Emmie-
my darling, my darlingp' he cried
andagain and again he kissed the sense.
less paper on which was traced the