River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1878-08-01

telllngf1im of his marriage, which were
more tlan realized by the result, as we
have seen by the letter from Sir Philip
Marstot, which awaited him at his club
on his return to England with his bride.
But, full of confidence in his ability to
maintain himself and wife by his own
exertiofs, ana thinking that surely his
father would relent and be reconciled to
him after time, Harry troubled himself
very little about his lost inheritance; and
| though their new home consisting of
three small, poorly furnished rooms in a
back street-was very different from the
grand old mansion to which he had hoped
| to take his bride, he set to work cheerful
/ ly at his favorite art, and tried hard to
earn living by painting pictures and
| portraits. But he soon fonnd that it was
mot so easy as he thought.
1t was all very well when he was heir
TO Marston Hail. and studied painting
mere ly from love of art but picture-deal
ers, who in those days had been all flat
terry and obsequiousness TO the young
heir, now that he finally wanted to sell
his pictures. and sketches, shook their
| heads, and politely but firmly declined
to purchase.
! At last, one dreary afternoon, when
Harry was sitting in the little room he
called his studio, trying Il devise some
new scheme to replenish his slender
purse, the servant opened the door and
ushered white haired old gentleman in
TO the room.
| Placing his chair by the fire for his WIS.,
itor, Harry inquired his business.
"You are portrait painter, believe,
sir2" said the old gentleman, looking at
him through his gold spectacles.
THAT IS my profession, SIR replied
Harry, delighted at the thought of having
| found a commission at last.
"Well, sir, want you to paint the por-
trait of my daughter"
with pleasure, sir said Harry ca
gerly. "When can the lady give me the
! first sitting?'
"Alas sir, she is dead--dead to me
these twenty years, and I killed her
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 his mysterious visitor must be
an escaped lunatic crossed his mind; but
mastering, with an effort, his emotion. the
|
| stranger continued
Pardon me, young sir. This is of mo
interest to you. My daughter is dead,
and want you to paint her portrait from
my description, as | perfectly we'll 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 disappointlnents," said Harry,
when, having given long description of
the form and features of his longlost
| daughter, the old man rose to.depart,
and for weeks he worked necessarily
upon the mysterious portrait of the dead
| girl, making sketch after sketch, each OF
WI ich was rejected by the remorse
| stricken father, until the work began to
exercise strange kind of fascination over
him, and he sketched face after face, as il
under the influence of 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 with 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 yeurselfr' he exclaimed, start
ing from his seat, taking his wifes fair
! face between his two hands, and gazing
intently into her eyes.
Without losing moment he sat down
aud commenced TO sketch Helenss face
and 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 for some moments I'M
conscious of his presence, until, with the
cry of "Helen, my daughter" the old
man buried him aside, and stood en-
tranced before the portrait.
After gazing for some minutes N
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.
1T is the portrait OF my wife," replied
| he.
"Your wife, sirl 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 vain
ly irving to find the child of my lost
daughter, so that by kindness and devo-
ton to nv grandchild | might, in part at
least. atone for harshness toward 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
/ ~ -.or,Ia,,a,, c4oc,1oI har and after
looking earnestly in her face for few
moments, exclaimed. pardon me, mad
anne, can you tell me your mother
maiden names"
Helen Treherne,n replied Helen,
,wonderingly.
81 knew it, knew it," exclaimed the
old man, in an excited voice. sat last |
have found the child of my poor lost
daughterl"
In few words Mr. Treherne explained
how he had cast off bis only child on ac-
count of her marriage with poor officer,
and refused even to open her letters
when she wrote asking for forgiveness.
But, thank Heaven!' said he, when
he had finished his sad story, i 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 Slr
Philip Marston heard that his son had
married the heiress of one of tie finest
and oldest estates in the country, he at
once wrote letter of reconciliation to
Harry, and, after all, Helen eventually
became mistress OF Marston Hall, IN the
picture gallery of which no painting is
j
Mysterious Portrait
King and Servant.