Whig and tribune. [volume] (Jackson, Tenn.) 1870-1877, 1873-11-01
CONSTANCE MORTON.

Alfred HcrtOn sat drcamlly work
ing at an unfinished picture in his
studio. 1t was not a place calcula-
ted to inspire the young artist with
empyreal ideas that, when trans
terred to canvass, might win him re-
nown and wealth. 1t was n garrot
very near the skies ho so loved to
paint. His cOlors, brushes and ma
iorials lay strewn about him in ar
tistic disorder, and an insufierablo
odor of oil and varnish Pervaded
the close atmosphere. His face
was careworn and pale. His soft
brown eyes lacked lusteI; & it was
very evident that close confinement
and privation were wreclling his
constitution.
If 1 could only get chance! If
| could only sell one picture to
some generous connissour instead
Of these miserable harpies who,
knowing my need, tender the poor
est remuneration for my work,
how it would ncryo my efforts. I
should then feel had 5omo chance
to rise in my profession, for | love
it so much that l am sure there is
latent merit within me, he mutter-
ed, mournfully.
A tap at the door.
Como inp he replied, halt saw
agcly, without turning his head.
He thought it was his landlady
with her reiterated demands for
rent.
But tho visitor who entered was
a tall, well-dressed man, with sharp,
cloar- cut features, and carefully
curled gray whiskers.
'Mr. Horton, l presume? he said.
The artist turned his head quick
", and rose from his seat.
i beg your pardon for my mat
tontlon.' 1n what way can l sorve
you, sir?' he added, apologotically.
you paint portraits do you not?
Have you any from which l could
| judge your stylc?'
4 have few, sir; but they are
bad samples of what [ could do if
If it were made worth your while,
eh?' interrupted the visitor, rs he
smilingly glanced over the pictures
Horton displayed. well, l want
you to paint a likeness Of a young
lady, my daughter, and you may
name your own terms. If you sue
ceed in depicting her lineament,
accurately, you Will doubtless re
ceive many moro commissions.
like to stimulate talent wherever !
find 1t, and will introduce you t
the notice of my friends. Ny
daughter is neither old nor home
| ly, so you have good chance tC
show your ability.
when can you begin"
Now-at any moment answer
ed Horton, eagerly.
Then he colored crimson auC
stopped abruptly, as eye fell on tho
disordered state of the room; anC
he rightfully conceived the ide:
that it was scarcely fitted for the
reception of lady patrons.
4 see,' said the other, speaking
in kindly, half-Iaughing tone
But l wish the sittings to be at m,
house, ifit is cOnyenisnt to you
Write to me word when you will
come, and my daughter shall b,
ready. Here is my card; and, per
haps you will allow me to advanc
you small sum-say twenty guin
eas-as proof of bona fdes.
Horton glanced at the card, an
instantly recognized tho namo !
, being that Of = well known an
wealthy merchant.
Your name, Mr.. Morcton. is an
: pie security; but l will neverthele:
accept your gracious offer, he sal,
joyously, as he ushcred the newly
found Mecgnas to the door.
Alfred Horton was quite goo
looking fellow when properly a
tired. The twenty guincas advan
: ed had enabled him to dress hin
self better than usual; and his a
peaTance was more rCspcctab
when he presented himself At NJ
: Moreton's house.
That gentleman received him
person, and ushcred him into
:, well lighted room, whore he fix,
his easel and arranged his paraphe
II MALTA. When that was accOmplis
ed Mr.. Moreton called his daug
ter and formally presented her
the young artist.
Horton was speechleSs with
: mazement when the transcenGe
loveliness o. the young lady daw
IL ed upon HIM like the splendor
morning. She was the fairest, ch.
cest flower from the gardens of gi
\. hood he had ever beheld-the idt
angel of his dreams. Her hair f
in sheeny rivulets of gold over h
, graceful neck and pearl-white sho
, ders; her forehead, a tablet of IL
), ry; her eyes, rich sapphires, ha
yelled in amber !ringes; her mou
Cupid's bow of coral; her dimpl,
> peach-tinted checks, poets paI
disc.
Horton returned her bow in