Litchfield enquirer., 1876-01-13
lN THE GOLD AVENUE.
tBy the Author of sThe calderwood Secret" in -. -.. per's for December. ] s.sf;
1.-A MYsrER1ous LrrrE1.

-. F.: per's for December.l f;s4 sa
 a IA MYSTERIOUS LETTER.
 Francis ,Iredell prepared his own break fast, which consisted of cup of smok. tea and dry biscuit. The battered ket tie on the gas fixture and box of biscuit snnder. the table represented the loves ebb ever attained n the tide of MT. Ire delPs resources, and there had been man, fluctuations in his finances of late years Poverty may have picturesque side a we'll as droll or lugubrious one. Tn poverty of this artist studio sat lightl. on room as we'll as occupant. One reat the mans character and history in all hi surroundings. A large window admitted a wealth of daylight, which fell alike on , beautiful jardiuiere. dusty draperies, i' broken lay figure. heaps of paint brushes rare specimens of Daimio. bronze, and tropical butterfly poised on sapphir' wings, fecked with silver, above collec ton of pipes. The very walls took up th' thread, and reelected the inmates a in a many separate, mirrors of mood. from th' half-completed clay model of a classica head, the gfimpses of dreamy MedIterra mean skies, and the nasty copies of Titian fiesh- -tints, to the realistic farm, scene' lacking the poetry of the Flemish ant French schools of art. A desultory fanc, had always led Francis Iredell to pursue the latest whim, and here and there thu sketches had caught sunbeam of tru, inspiration. He was too proud to solici patronage or propitiate critics, and ther he took refuge in the superiority of thu unappreciated To the public he wal known as promising artist. If he would settle down to any one thing. This vefl settling down was the bane of his exist ence and in the meanwhile he madt smoky tea for his own breakfast.
 His slight repast- ended, he kindled hi meerschaum, and prepared to set abou' the days labors, when he was aroused bJ a knock on the door, and the janitol passed in letter. ar.se -E.t1ss :.
 "Who the deuce has written to me 2 soliloquized Mir. Iredell, turning the small envelope in his hand. "A woman's chlro graphy, evidently. am not lady's man." rEs ta $. t -' ..u lsAtA
 He was in no haste to open the missivt and solve the question time had never been precious to Francis Iredell. "-'
 Perhaps I have found patreness oi art, he said. with g little grimace
 The sheet contained these guarded lines :-- &# .feta
 'Mr Francis Iredell is earnestly re- quested to visit Holmcroft immediately If he will be in the summer-house at the end of the maple avenue, on Mrs. Meston'l property, at o'clock, this afternoon, he will have no cause to regret the step.
 A FRIEND."
 ''Shades of romance! Why, my re- spected aunt, Mrs. Meston, lives at Holm. crost. To be sure had forgotten; and if I had remembered, fancy the old girl would think wanted something of her the sale of d picture, or to be mel tioned in her will. Bah she is surrounded by toadies now, no doubt" dJ t-s.#r :.
 He laughed and tossed aside the letter, then took it up to read it again, with a
 "Whom am to See in the summer house Pooh am too old bird for this sort of chaff. Somebody wishes to make me ridiculous" ..l.t .rIr
 He leaned out the window The !Qcto- Der day was perfect, with cloudless sky, radiant sunshine, and soft south wind. Nature lured him away from the studio
 
 self-love, also began to exert an influence. What if any person at Holmcroft did wish to dupe him, might it not be amusing to afford the unknown an opportunity .
 He formed @ sudden resolution. II Spofford could lend him ten dollars he would make the journey. He crossed the hall to another door precisely like his own, which opened on an atelier also inn with the pathetic atmosphere of waiting. A man wearing the same mask of cheerful bonhomme over patient hero. ism was tracing the ghost of some future great work on canvas with red chalk.
 "Hard up, eh? Oh yes, can let you have $10 as we'll as not. I only wish l had $10, 900, my boy"
 MT. Iredell returned to his own quar- ters, brushed his hat, and surveyed him. self in a cracked fragment of looking. glass. A faint sensation of pleasurable excitement was beginning to infect him, all due to few lines traced in slanting feminine hand. The glass reflected a large, well-formed man of thirty, with a massive head, broad, open brow, calm, penetrating gray eye, and luxuriant brown beard. The hair worn rather long, the beard and attire were unconventional, but there was about him the easy, grace which stamped unmistakably the gentle. man. May not the negligent costume of a man forgetful of his coat be charming in 8 world which owes so much of painful self-consciousness to the tailor :?
 Still yielding to that guidance of destiny which captivated him, this morning. he took the next step. If he was not too late for train which would bear him to Holmcroft before five o'clock, he would keep the appointment. t'f
 A tide of humanity streamed through the open door of the great depot. Too late? No; thesteR o'clock train, bound east, was there, panting with suppressed steam, and ready to start. I
 Fleeting miles strung like beads on feeting moments past shining rivers. past vide stretches of hill side draped in au- tumn's gorgeous livery. the awakened thoughts of Francis Iredell keeping pace with flying motion. He reached Holm croft at five o'clock and fifty minutes. The locomotive swept on, and he was left gazing about him trifie blankly. Why had he come Surely he could not tell. The station was pretty Gothic structure, with the name of Holmcroft placed prom inentiy above the door. A telegraph girl with pink bow in her hair glanced co. quettishly through the window of hel office a lank young man with large cigar leaned against the wall three bare footed urchins battered away in search oi other excitement; rusty wagon contain. ing cider barrel creaked slowly by.
 The stranger climbed the road toward the Hall, red brick house overlooking the village. and by no means equaling the pretension of it's name. A little brook, spanned by bridge, Hove at the foot oi the hill, and to the right steep path branched from the drive leading mp to the door. Following this path, he found himself in the summer-house as his watch pointed to the hour of five. '''af1A. s
 In the peaceful stiffness of earth the smoke rising from the village chimneys seemed to pause before melting into ether, and the balm of silence bathed all his iaded senses. From the rose-fushed hor izon where the sun was setting a purple bloom yelled the hills at his feet the sumac glowed in. fiery splendor on the air foated the last fragrance of expiring summer-ths aromatic scent of dying leaves. He turned to the maple walk.