Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1877-07-06

path to glory seemed opening before her
She walked home as il crowned with
laurel, and entered the little semi de
tached house as she would the Temple OF
Fame.
The two Shakspearean subjects met
with success, and put a few pounds in
Edith's slender purse.
Mrs. Grierson began to complain that
Edith never left her easel now except to
go to Snell's; then Edith would comfort
her by promising her all sorts of luxuries
when she should be Royal Academi.
clan, or something equivalent 10 it.
Edith had. the languid Italian temper
ament, inherited from her mother, but
she also had the Italian vengefulness,
and the insult she had received was a
spur to her ambition. She worked and
studied early and late, and, if ever her
energy tagged, one thought of the words
that had been spoken, and the reason for
which they were said, would sting her to
the quick, and nerve her even to greater
energy than before.
The path was much less thorny than
she had expected; she found herself, she
scarcely knew how, put in the way of
good models and words of instruction.
Then one or two celebrated artists began
to notice the pictures with "E. G."
tucked away in one corner, and the quiet
little studio often held many an "R. A."
Edith had long since removed to "real
studio" as Mrs. Grierson called it, and
reveled in the good light and abundance
of room, her pictures gaining color and
strength like plants. None of them as
pired to be Scenes from Macbeth" now.
"E. g." had gained modesty with knowl.
edge, and knew what was beyond her
depth.
The years pass quickly by sometimes,
and Network wondrous changes, and when
| five had been counted from that May.day
when Macbeth was turned out of the ex.
hibition "E. G." found herself really
famous and nearly rich. Her mother
could no longer lament by-gone days on
the score of lodgings, for pretty villa
at Bayswater was their home, and the
semi-detached house was a nightmare of
the past.
Time cannot accomplish all things,
however, and he had failed to quench
Edith's bitter hatred toward Stretton,
that burned as fiercely as when, lus-
trum ago, she had first heard that he had
reviled her picture out of spite. The
tables were turned; she was rich, and he
was poor; she was famous, and his name
was scarcely known; yet it seemed as if
her triumph lacked the climax of re-
venge. But the time was not far distant
when that finishing touch could be added
if she chose.
One evening, at little dinner party
given in her honor, Edith heard that
Stretton was very i'll and in destitute cir.
| cumstances. She sat perfectly silent,
while small fire of CALCULATIONS ran round
the table. Nearly every one knew and
liked Stretton, and were all lawfully
sorry" or Every much distressed" as
their inclinations were toward slang or
pure English. Some wondered that,
with his rare talent, he had not been
more successful pecuniarily; but he
seemed TO neglect his opportunities; he
was rather dilettante in art; it was a
great pity, he was such u good fellow;
something must be done, etc, etc.
The fact was that Stretton was too
true an artist to become tradesman in
his profession. He studied nature, and
scorned all tricks-those tricks that make
money in this world. Alas he was be.
fore his age. Yet he was by no means a
failure, and people were just beginning
dimly to appreciate his wonderful ability
when this illness came and "knocked
his labors all endways," as little Boggs
would phrase it. But that same illness
brought out the kind, staunch English
hearts, and his friends became admirers,
and his admirers friends, as the subject
was discussed over fish and game. Edith
merely looked grim, and asked for his
address, which she took down carefully
in her note book.
The following day she fought the
whole thing out in her mind; she would
go and visit him in all the glory of her
prosperity; she would let him see that the
artist, whose picture he had treated with
such open scorn had found success but
- She checked herself; it was not right
to give way to such feelings. The poor
fellow was sick and helpless; she should
not go to see him just from revenge. She
began to think that cherishing hatred had
warped one side of her nature. Once
she would have shrunk with terror from
trampling on a fallen foe" hitting a
fellow when he's down." He certainly
had behaved contemptibly, but Well,
she would forgive him, and go to him in
Christian charity; and, at the same time,
she would not object to his being con
scious that she had prospered. So that
afternoon, with what are called mixed
motives, believe, she stepped into her
little brougham, dressed in the richest of
black silks to express long bank ac-
count, and carrying a basket of peaches
and white grapes to express the Christian
charity part.
She stopped at careworn-looking
house, where neat, faded old wom-
an opened the door, and, upon Mr..
Stretton being inquired for, directed her
to the "second floor, front. She was
lame, or she would go up herself, and
her sister was out who usually answered
the bell" So Miss Grierson mounted the
stairs alone, and tapped at the "second
floor, 'front.'" In moment little Boggs
appeared, with very red eyes, and rather
sternly ushered her in, without word
of greeting,
Edith began, graciously: "How do you
do, Mr.. Boggs? / came" but stopped
short, petrifed. Was that her "Scene
from Macbeth" hanging over the mantel-
pieceg AS surely as it was the 21st of
May, and that she was alive and breath.
ing. And what were those smaller ones
on either side9 Two studies from
Shakespeare, with "E. G." in the corners.
She slowly surveyed the walls. They
were covered with her earlier pictures
those that she had carried to Smells with
her own hands.
Well, you've found it out at last,
said little Boggs, watching her with
folded arms.
What does it mean?" she gasped.
Meanp cried little Boggs, Iecklessly.
"Well, he can't live more than two
hours, and you might as well know all.
1t means that he has sacrificed his whole
life."
And there in that little A" second floor,
front" that warm May afternoon, Edith
Grierson heard the whole story-how
Stretton had bought her pictures and
praised them to other people; how he
had neglected opportunities, that she
might profit by them; how he had helped
in oanrat nd oaryad har III a N 81 N M. not