The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1878-11-09

/ new scheme tOreplenish his slender purse
the servant opened the door and usheret
white-haired old gentleman into tn
ROOM
Placing a chair by the fire for his Wis
itor, Harry inquired his business.
" You are portrait-painter, | believe
STRIP said the old gentleman, looking a
him through his gold spectacles.
"That is my profession, SIR" replied
Harry, delighted at the thought of hav
ing found a commission at last.
"Well, sir, / want you to paint the
portrait of my daughter"
With pleasure, sir" said Harry
eagerly. When can the lady give MT
the first sitting?"
"Alas! sir, she is dead-dead to me
| these twenty years, and | killed her
broke her heart with my harshness and
crueltyw exclaimed the old man, in an
excited, trembling voice.
A strange chill came over Harry, as
the idea that his mysterious visitor must
be an escaped lunatic crossed his mind
! but mastering, with an effort, his emo.
| ton, the stranger continued:
Pardon me, young sir. This is of no
interest to you. My daughter is dead
and / want you to paint her portrait
from my description, as perfectly well
| remember her twenty years ago"
81 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 long description
of the form and features of his long
lost daughter, the old man rose to de-
part, and for weeks he worked inces-
sanity upon the mysterious 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 a strange kind OF
fascination over him, and he sketched
face after face, as if under the influence
of a spell.
AT last, one evening, wearied with a
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 eyes? Why Helen, it is the very
picture of YOURSELF" he exclaimed,
starting from his seat, taking his wife's
fair face between his two hands, and
gazing intently into her eyes.
Without losing d moment he sat down
and commenced to sketch Helen's face
AMI when his strange patron called the
next day, Harry was so busily engaged
putting the finishing touches to his por-
trait that he did not hear him enter the
room, and worked on for some momen Is
unconscious of his presence, until, with
the cry of " Helen, my daughter" the
old man hurried him aside, and stood
entranced before the portrait.
After gazing for some minutes in
silence, broken only by his own half
suppressed sobs of remorse, the old man
turned slowly around to Harry, and
asked him in an eager voice, where he
had obtained the original of the picture.
ct IS the portrait of my wife" re-
piled he.
"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
vainly 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
toward her mother"
Harry was beginning to tell him the
story of his meeting with Helen al
Rome, and their subsequent marriage,
when the door opened, and his wife en-.
tered the room.
Perceiving that her husband was en-
Sha al +n hnr
the old gentleman stopped her, aud,
after looking earnestly in her face for
a few moments, exclaimed, " Pardon me,
madam-can you tell me your mother
maiden name.
"Helen Treherne," replied Helen Won
deringly.
"Iknew it knew til" exclaimed
the old man, in an excited voice. CAT
last | have found the child of my poor
lost daughter!"
In a few words Mr.. Treherne ex-
planned how he had cast off his only
child on account of her marriage with q
poor officer, and refused even to open
her letters when sho wrote asking for
forgiveness.
"But, thank heaven!" said he, when
he had finished his sad story, 4" l 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 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, Helen eventually
became mistress of Marston Hall, in the
picture gallery of which no painting is
more valued and treasured than "The
Mysterious Portrait"