The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1877-09-15

by his own exertions, and thinking tina
surely his father would relent and be re
conciled to him after a time, Harrl
troubled himself very little about hi
lost inheritance and through their neV
home-consisting of three small, poorly
furnished rooms in a back street-wa
very different from the grand old man
sion to which he had hoped to take hi.
bride, he set to work cheerfully at hi:
favorite art, and tried hard to earn a liv
ing by painting pictures and portraits.
But he soon found that it was not Sc
easy as he thought.
1t was all very we'll when he was he'll
to Marston Hall, and studied painting
merely from love of art, but picture
dealers who in those days had been al
fatterly and obsequiousness toward the
young heir, now that he really wanted
to sell his pictures and sketches, shool
their, heads, and politely but firmly de-
clined to purchase.
At last one dreary afternoon, when
Harry was sitting in the little room, he
called his studio, trying to devise some
new scheme to replenish his slender
purse, the servant opened the door and
ushered a white haired old gentleman
into the room.
Placing a chair by the fire for his Wis
itor, Harry inquired his business.
"You are a portrait painter, / be-
lieve, sir ?" said the old gentleman,
looking at him through his old spectacles.
"That is my profession, sir" said
Harry, delighted at the thought of hav-
ing found a commission at last.
"Well, Sir, l want you to paint the
portrait of my daughter
"With pleasure, Sir" said Harry,
eagerly. "When can the lady give me
the first sitting?"
"Alas, Sir she is dead-dead to me
these twenty years and l killed her
l broke her heart with my harshness and
cruelty !" exclaimed the old man, in an
excited, trembling voice.
A strange chill came over Harry, as
the idea that this mysterious visitor
must be an escaped lunatic /; but mas
tering, with an effort, his emotions, the
stranger continued: ''Pardon me, young
Sir. This is of no interest to you. My
daughter is dead, and l want you to
paint her portrait from my description,
as perfectly remember her twenty years
ago."
will do my best, Sir; but it will be
no easy task, and you must be prepared
for many disappointments, said Harry,
whom having given him a long descrip-
ton of the form and features of his long
lost daughter, the old man rose to depart ;
and fer fer weelkzsiIe worker fneessantly up
on the portrait of the dead girl; max
ing sketch after sketch, each of which
was rejected by the remorsestricken
father, until the work began to exercise
strange kind of fascination over him,
and he sketched face after face, as if un-
der the influence of a spell.
At last one evening, wearied with g
day of fruitless exertion, he was sitting
over the fire watching his wife, who sat
opposite, busy upon some needlework.
when an ideasuddenly flashed upon him.
"Tall, fair, with golden hair, and
dark blue eyes Why Helen, it is the
very picture of yourself!" he exclaimed
starting from his seat, taking his wife:
fair face between his two hands, anC
gazing intently into her eyes.
Without losing moment, he sat dowr
and commenced to sketch Helen's face
and when his strange patron called the
next morning, Harry was so busily en-,
gagged putting the finishing touches tC
his portrait that he did not hear hin
enter the room, and worked on for some
moments unconscious of his presence
until with the cry of "Helen my daugh
ter !' the old man hurried him aside
and stood entranced before the portrait
After gazing for some minutes in 81,
lence, broken only by his own half sup
pressed sobs of remorse, the old man
turned slowlyround to Harry, and asked
him in an eager voice where he had OBJ.
tanned the original of that picture.
'Itis the portrait of my wife, P" said he.
"Your wife, Sir Who was she? Par
don me for asking the question:" he
added ''but l have heard lately that
my poor Helen left an orphan daughter,
and for the last six months l have been
vainly trying to find the child of my
lost daughter, so that by kindness and
devotion to my grandchild l might, in
part at least, atone for my harshneSS to-
wards her mother"
Harry was beginning to tell him the
story of his meeting with Helen at Rome,
and their subsequent marriage, when
the door opened, and his wife entered
the room.
Perceiving that her husband was en-
gagged, she was about to retreat, when
the old gentleman stopped her, and after
looking earnestly in her face for few
moments, exclaimed "Pardon me,
madam-can you tell me your mother
maiden name ?"
"Helen Treherne," replied Helen,
wonderingly.
"I knew it-I knew it |" exclaimed
the old man, in an excited voice. "At
last have found the child of my poor
lost daughter !"
In few words Mr.. Treherne explain
ed how he had cast off his only child on
account of her marriage with poor Of
ficer and refused even to open her
letter when she wrote asking forgive
ness.
"But, thank heaven ~ said he, when
he had finished his sad story, 81 can
atone in some measure for my harshneSs
toward my Helen by taking her Helen
to my heart, and making her my daugh-
ter"
1t is needless to add that when Sill
Philip Marston heard that his son had
married the heiresS of one of the finest
and oldest estates in the country, he al
once wrote letter of reconciliation tC
Harry; and, after all, Helen eventually