Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1878-07-28

Delighted at the idea of being loved
Tor himself alone, he had not told her of
his real position, and it was not till the
marriage ceremony was over that Helen
discovered that she had married the eldest
sou OF baronet, and the heir to an estate
producing e15,OC0 wear.
1t was not without some inward mis-
glylngs that Harry wrote to his father
telling him of his marriage, which were
more than realized by the result. as we
have seen by the letter from Sir Philip
Marston, 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
exertions, and 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
not so easy as he thought
| ~ W % al NCi WCli WllCu hG was uSlI
TO Marston Hall, and studied painting
mere ly from love of art but picture-deaI
ers, who IN those days had been ali 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
| ~, :&4J.
called his studio, trying to 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.
:" GU are portrait painter, believe,
sir?" 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 commission at last.
swell, 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 sitting2'
"Alas! sir, she is dead--dead to me
these twenty years, and | killed her
broke her heart with my harshness and
cruelty!n exclaimed the old man, in an
eAoi ted, trembling voice.
A strange chill came over Harry, as the
7 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 no
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
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 a 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 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 strange kind of fascination over
him, and he sketched face after face, as if
under the influence of aspell.
AT last, one evening, wearied with a
: day of fruitess exertion, he was sitting
over the fire watching his wife, who sat
e opposite, busy with some needlework,
g when an idea suddenly flashed upon him.
"Tall, fair, with golden hair and dark
: blue eyes? Why Helen, it is the very
e picture of ycurselfr' he exclaimed, start
ing from his seat, taking his wifes fair
g face between his two hands, and gazing
n intently into her eyes,
q yN;+bo,,+ 1o,:...
: and commenced to sketch Helen's face !;
: and when his strange patron called the
next day, Harry was SO busily engaged
y putting the finishing touches to his por-
trait that he did not hear him enter the
e room, and worked for some moments un-
y conscious Of his presence, until, with the
e cry of "Helen, my daughterl: the old
man buried him aside, and stood en-
e tranced before the portrait.
S. After gazing for some minutes in
4, silence, broken only by his own half
70 suppressed sobs of remorse, the old man
IT turned slowly around to Harry, and
e asked him in an eager voice where he
p had obtained the original of the picture,
e. slt is the portrait OF my wife reDied
. he
d "Ycur wife, sir! Who was she? Par
| don me for asking the question" ne
e added; sbut have heard lately that nv
r poor Helen left an orphan daughter, ana
8: for the last six months have been vain
# ly trying to find the child of my lost
/ daughter, so that by kindness and devo-
g ton to my grandchild I might in part at
3 least, atone for harshness toward her
d mother
is Harry was beginning to tell him the
le story OF his meeting with Helen at Rome
If and their subsequent marriage, when the
It, door opened, and his wife entered the
Y, room.
J. Perceiving that her husband was en-.
~ gagged, she was about to retreat, wher
W the old gentleman stopped her, and afte,
t. looking earnestly in her face for a few
moments, exclaimed, Pardon me, mad
se anne, can you tell me your mother'
e. maiden name?"
Is ''Helen Treherne," replied Helen
re wonderingly.
d, Il knew it, I knew i'll" exclaimed tn,
k old man, in an excited voice. cat last
q have found tha child ot mr., moor loo