The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1876-10-24


have to accommodate EN-"
"From Boston ?' Ruth presumed.
"Wal, no-they amt Boston folks" the
Squire thought. 'Teirrell-Tyrrelll Sounds
more like York name," and then he babe
Ruth good-morning, and walked homeward.
I'LL
When they happen to possess a cottage on
the cliff, the most inveterate nomads might
subdue, think, their rowing propensities,
and consent to sojourn-say three months
at Newport. was surprised, therefore, by
summons to Mr.. Tyrrells bank, and my alb
rupt nomination to the command of an ex-
pedltionary corps. "Cara's not WE'LL" was
informed; "fnds Newport much too hot.
Your aunt proposes the White mountains,
and wants you to take them there.'
This intelligence distressed me good deal !;
but own that, coming from the hot pave
ments OF smoky town, discovered all sorts
of tonic virtues in the breezes of Narragansett
bay, and eyed Miss Clara's lassitnde with
wonder, until my aunt reminded me how
different, after all, the climate was to that of
Scarborough or Trouville-which, no doubt,
explained the phenomenon.
We were already familiar with the Fran
coma region, and being minded to try the
Conway side, were not disposed to quarrel
with the accident which transferred US from
q ldluCl oudUUy uOlCt W dUoOiulC SOutlOl VI
an old-fashioned farmhouse. We promised
ourselves not little entertainment in the
naive discourse of our primitive host, and
my own contentment was complete when a
preposterous hair-brained painter-fellow,
whom Squire Allen hit off in his catalogue
of curiosilies, proved to be no other than my
friend Robin. l must say, however, that
Aunt Tyrrell seemed in no wise pleased with
this discovery, having lately contracted, as
mentioned, a prejudice against my friend !;
but it was absurd to suppose a contretemps
so trivial would be suffered TO derange her
plans. "Now, at least" she said, "that sim
gular young man may have the goodness to
finish my girls picture"
1t is not likely many hours could pass be-
fore Bob and l came together, and, of course,
was speedily apprised of an impending in
teresting event, and presented to the BRIDE
elect, before whom and her young sister
when Robin sped away to pay his respects to
the Tyrrells-I pronounced eulogy upon
that artist. In the course of the same after
noon the Misses Lyon came to call on my
kinswomen, and insisted we should drink tea
at the farm, where they set forth all the dam
ties they could think of, showed us the flower
garden, the bee.hives, and the chickens, and
treated US generally in a most Eospitable fash
ion.
happened to be present at my Cousins
meeting with Bob's fiancee, and thought I
had never seen Clara look so well. Perhaps
she may have been trife pale, but her eyes
were very bright, and she talked with the
greatest spirit and vivacity. She watched
Miss Lyon rather narrowly too, in swift,
observant way, but no doubt her observations
were satisfactory, for her manner was quite
soft and kind when she took Ruth's hand at
parting.
But, while cear.eyed, downright Ruth
conquered the hearts OF her new acquain-
tances-persuading even my aunt Tyrrell,
whose attitude at first was slightly captious,
to declare her good, active little body
Robins behavior was less gratifying. No
one certainly could have predicted that his
native air would cloud the mans sunny tenn
er,yet something of the kind seemed to have
occurred. found him taciturn and moody,
aud his demeanor at times decidedly tart.
For instance, when he was taken to task
good-humoredly by Mrs. Tyrrel about his
remissness in the matter of the picture, Bob
was almost surly, thought he must renouce
the undertaking altogether, and condemned
his rashness in meddling with portraiture at
all. When we were alone, however, he bore
himself more genially, and this circumstance
led me to conclude that he bad lost his relish
for ladies' society.
Of course Bob's inclination in this respect
were not abetted by me, had brought my
friends, as you know, to Conway in pursuit
OF health and the exhiaration of fine scenery,
and, since Rnth's household duties would not
suffer her to guide our rambles, Robins SER
vices were plainly indispensable. 1t hap
pened for the most part to be Miss TyrelPs
fate 10 endure Sir Dismals company in those
excursions, and, while what he vouchsafed to
say was crisp and bright enough (Bob's
tongue had pretty trick of interpreting his
eye,) his fits of silence must, know, have
depressed her, although I cannot remember
that she made any complaint. will avow
that on one occasion the young man seemed
to regain his buoyant humor, and shone out
with his old flash and fervor.
We had driven out, that day, to the Notch,
for, while we knew the Franconia pass, the
grandeur of its southern namesake was yet
strange to us, 1t was afternoon when we
reached the middle of the gorge and we lin
gered there until sunset, held and mastered
by the scene. Who that ever saw it forgets the
desolate ravine choked with powders and
bristling with dark pines, the giant walls
black and bare that seem to bulge and topple
and hide the sky, and the puny, shivering
river flung headong down the jagged steep?
There is, you know, a contagion in strong
feeling, and am sure the glow on Clara's
cheek warmed us all. No wonder Bob then,
watching the girls kindling eyes, shook off
the weight upon his spirits and gave himself
to the empire of the hour. The Notch and the
eager talk of my companions, and the drive
homeward in the twilight wrought me up to
so romantic mood that sat smoking in the
'squire's porch until late hour, and even
when l retreated single candle was still
cleaning from Bob's studio.
Why would he not stay and smoke cigar,
and what in the world could Robin find to do
alone in that grim and comfortless chamber?
Was he going over, perhaps, the pleasant
day, and yielding anew to the sweet sorcery
of an emotional nature, which had quick
ened and compelled his own? Or did he
check those thoughts sternly and recognize
with sad sincerity that such companionship
was not for him.? Must his days then know
no storm, no torrid sunshine, but be always
cool and sober and calm? Could he call it
living, the pale spiritless existence which
stretched before him and Ruth? Poor Ruth
No, upright, noble Ruth-who was he to pity
that true heart? Had he forgotten what her
life had been-the patient, cheerful selfsur-
render, the long, meek sacrifice to duty? and
was the fault hers if her eyes, fixed on that
mild star, had missed the hectic splendors of
the west? Was he not man enough to love
her for what she was and mock and stifle the
mad thirst for sympathy? That holy, mystic
ShoihA VI tAelJ pOISho SpCii III
Paris saloons; but such simple words as graft
tude and honor may out.conjure it amid
Yankee hills.
On the day following our drive to the
Notch-it was just week, as 1 remember,
before Bob's wedding-Clara and 1 stlolled
over to the farm, and found Miss Nellie
stunning the piano and Ruth busted about
many things.
''Where is Robin ?'' inquired.
s'Nobody Knows" said Nellie, laughing.
''He was prowling up and down his den all
night, and this morning he went out at day.
break
''In that case" suggested, Suppose we
avail ourselves of the priests absence and in
wade the sanctuary. There ale many tricks
and devices familiar to the painters art which
shall be happy to expose. Likewise, the
business of an unfinished picture seems to
require in vestigation."
There is no doubt that Clara looked in
quisitive, and Ruth at once volunteered to
show the way.
''You would never know my trim store.
room," said Ruth, as she let us into the
atelier, and indeed it was chaos OF disorder.
''Bob's easel was near the window. Nellie
ran to it and gave cry.
''LookP' she said, and stared in stupor at
the canvas.
We looked. My Cousins figure was still
there, but some studious stroke of the brush
had totally rased her features