The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1877-07-21

OF no interest 20 you. My daughter Is
dead, aud l'want you to paint her portrait
from my description, as perfectly re-
member 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, when
having given him long description Of the
form and features of his long lost daughter,
the old man rose to depart; and for weeks
he worked necessarily upon the portrait Of
the dead girl, making sketch after sketch,
each of which was rejected by the remorse-
stricken father, until the work began to
exercise strange kind of fascination over
him, and he sketehed face after face, as if
under the influence Of spell.
At Inst, one evening, wearied with day
of fruitless exertion, he was sitting over the
fire Watching his wife, who sat opposite,
busy upon some needlework, when an idea
suddenly flashed upon him.
"Tall, fair, with golden hair, and dark
blue eyesl Why, Helen, it is the very
picture of yourselfi' he exclaimed, start
ing from his seat, taking his wife's fair
face between his two hands, and gazing
intently into her eyes.
Without losing moment, he sat down
and commenced to sketch Helen's face;
and when his strange patron called the
next morning, Harry was SO busily enga-
ged putting the finishing touch to his por-
trait that be did not hear him enter the
room, and worked on for some moments
unconscious Of his presence, until with the
cry Of "Helen, my daughter Y the old man
hurried him aside, and stood entranced
before the portrait.
After gazing for some minutes in silence
broken only by his own halfsuppressed
sobs of remorse, the old man turned slowly
round to Harry, and asked him in an ca,
ger voice where be had obtained the origi
nal OF that picture.
1T is the portrait of my wife" replied
he. 31lla -
"Your wife, sir Who was she? Par,
don me for asking the question, he added
"but | have heard lately that my poor
Helen left an orphan daughter, and for the
last six months | have been yainly trying
to find the child of my lost daughter, SO
that by kindness and devotion to my
grandchild / might, in part at least, atone
for my harshness towards 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 Gu
gagged, she was about to retreat, when the
old gentleman stopped her, and after look.
ing earnestly in her face for few mo-
ments, exclaimed Pardon me, madam
can you tell me your mothers nader
name 2"
Helen Treherne," replied Helen, won
deringly.
al knew i'll knew it p exclaimed the
old man, in an excited voice. "At last
have found the child of my poor lost daugh
ter p
In few words Mr. Treherne explained
how he had cast off his only child on &C,
count Of her marriage with poor officer,
and refused even to open her letters when
she wrote asking for forgiveness.
"But, thank heavenl r. 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 daughter"
1t is needless to add that when Sir
Philip Marston heard that his son had
married the heiress of one of the finest
and oldest estates in the country, he at
once wrote a letter of reconciliation to
Harry; and, after all Ellen eventually be-
came mistress of Marston Hall, in the pic.
ture gallery of which no painting is more
valuable aud treasured than "The Myste
rious Portrait"