River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1873-10-21
PAINTED FROM MEMORY.

Nne0 Y WIS YUunBcT III my profess
sion than am now, Dresden was my
favorite holiday resort In the quiet
and slow flowing life.current of that
old void home Of the fine arts | fire.
quently sought and found relaxation
from the strain of work a-day months
in London.
One January night found me seated
cold, travel. stained, and wcary-in
the train at Hamburg, on route for my
old resort. Experience had taught me
that in Germany fellow traveller i'm.
Plies an instantaneous deprivation of
the quantum of the fresh air necessary
to keep the lungs in play So. calling
the guard, requested that | might be
secure from intrusion. Touching his
cap with laconic gut" he pocketed
a doucer and locked me in. The train
started. For few moments We stop
ped at a way station. consulted nv
watch. How cold it grows al the day
draws his last shivering breath.
Strange at this hour the springs of be
ing are at their lowest in all that lives.
whilst, in mystic sympathy with the
dying day, the life is split out of those
in whose cup are only its less. | WRAP
my cloak around me.
Once more we were on the point oil
starting, when the door | imagined Sc
curely locked was gently and easily
opened. A lady entered aud seated
herself opposite me. Below my breath
confounded the guard for false
Deutcher, and reflected how extraordi
nary 1t was that the intruder should be-
woman for abroad the fair sex have
special travelling compartments, where
no man dare put in an appearance, and
wee versa. In the confusion of starting
she had doubtless mistaken her ear.
rage, and now, perhaps, felt uncom
Portable. As the cold each moment
increased, offered her one of my warm
wraps, addressing few conventional
words To her on the topic of the wealth
er. " Thank you, she said, in quiet
a perfectly self-possessed voice, q" but
indeed ! do not feel the cold you speak
of. y A story is often told in the tone
of yoice-and the tone of this one was
peculiar. Enthusiastically English, and
well bred but there was no ring i'm il.
only a certain hopelessness sufficiently
pathetic. She had evidently noticed
some of my smaller professional be.
longings in the netting above me, for
rs ! silently pondered what manner of
woman she was, she thus addressed me
You are an artist ~
81 am.
Could you paint a portrait from
memory ~
Most certainly"
She removed the thick veil that con
coiled her face, and laid aside her bon.
net. The light from the lamp fell full
on her. She had lovely face, hut il
was cold and white and still ~ chiseled
marble. She encountered Me bold,
steady gaze of masculine eyes, vet no
tnge OF color tllckered ON her cheek.
A mass of ruddy- brown hair was cooled
around her shapely head large brown
eyes, full of the dumb, questioning
pain | have seen in the eyes Of hunt
cd deer ut bay, looked out from be.
tween dark lashes.
Marring the stainless white of the
cheek, liyid mark ran from the tenn
plo into the neck ii almost looked ms
u a. singing riding switch had been
drawn swift and sharp across the
face, burning its brand into the deli.
cate flesh. Her dress was of black
velvet, aud around the throat and
wrists were rutiles of costly lace.
Yours, | said, sis not q face 10 be
forgotten. could any day paint your
portrait from memory"
Will you do So Z"
" Certainly, il You desire IT,"
!" do especially desire IT, "
took ont my note book and entered
a memorandum Promised to paint
tue portrait of lady from memory.
this 20th night Of January. is" She
watched me make this entry. and re-
Stunning her bonnet and veil she fell
into silence.
As / sat opposite this beautiful
statuesquo woman, strange sensation
stole over me. Underneath that con
cealing veil there was a still. white
face with stricken eyes, that haunted
me and sent chill tn my heart. God
help her, | thought, for life has been
cruel TO her. Then | mused on The
singular promise | had come under
TO paint her portrait from memory.