Litchfield enquirer., 1878-08-01

muslin I don't like mems women, but do | like you. B.-Thank you. Now see that he has not f1attered you, not bit. thought at first that he had his heart in his work when he did | this.
 Lady R.-shall show you the work in | which his heart isP B.-Yes
 GADY RoEDALE droacs aside curtain and sb0aos p6cture.) B.-My picture! Lady R.-Yours B.-Oh, let me go. If he should come and find me here. Oh, let me go. Lady R.-Too late. hear him on the stairs. B.-What shall do? Lady R.-Do as you are bid. Give me your picture, quick! Now go behind the cur tain, and be still. 1 (She droacs' the curtain carefu1y. CLAUD enters, bringing dce.) Claud.-I bring you ice, and something I better. The day is changed. An, the air smells wooingly here. See how fetch and carry! Doesn't this convince you that I-- Lady R. (stssdying tte pict@re) e)-Yes, it is pretty. l Lady R. Don't be angry 1 won't hurt it. | GAS you please. It's of no value-now. Lady R-It's much better than mine. h. deed it has only one fault. C.-Indeed? Lady R.-It is awfully tlattered. Glow can you know, when you never saw the original? Lady R.-Ah, that is very true. C-Put it down, please. Iwant to talk to you about-to go back to what we were say | ing, when l Lady R-Shall throw it down here? C.-Take care What are you doing?
 Lady RI thought you said it was Of no value? C.-It isn't. But then we are vain, you know, we artists we don't like to see our work, even our bad work, destroyed. | Lady R.-Then won't destroy it. I'll i'm prove it.
 C.-What are you going to do? I don't quite understand. Let me put it away.
 Lady R-No; don't touch it. often think of taking up painting. This is evidently un- finished. Why is it unfinished? C.-I was afraid of spelling it. Lady R.-Ah, that was when it was of some | value: but now
 C.-Now it doesn't matter. Let me put it 1 away.
 Lady RI shall finish it myself. C.-You?
 Lady R.-Any valuless old thing will do to practice my hand on am just in the mood, You have painted enough this morning. It's my turn. C.-But Clara
 Lady R.-Come, take my picture off the ea- sel. There There she is in my place. A change for the better, think. Stand out ot | the light I shall make her lovely. (As she begins to aaraaage the colors On the paL cite, he gets more G2aGtCus.) C.-Here. try this. This sketch is much better to work on. Lady R-Don't bother. am bent on inn proving this young woman C.-That's very odd color you are getting. Lady R.-What can it matter to you? C.-Clara, what are you at? Stop! (He sn0tches Ms picture from tue easel. Lady R.-And the picture is of no value! CT beg your pardon, Clara. Lady R.-Valueless, but too valuable fol me. C.-Clara, you won't understand. Lady R.-Oh, yes, l will. A mere sketch, 1 and absurdly. C.-Flattered! (He Ao7ds the picture tn his haaods, pe,usiaag I.) How can you knowp Lady R.-It is much prettier than Miss Tyr C.-What do you mean? We'll, yes, be- lieve if remember right, that it was taken from Miss Tyrrel,
 Lady R.-And I believe, if remember right, that it is twice as pretty as Miss Tyrrel. C.-You have never seen her. Lady R-Indeed have. C.-Indeed! Wherer Lady R.-Here. C.--In Rome? Lady R.-Here. C.-Here What do you mean? Lady R.-Here, in this room. C.-Clara, I dare say that this is extremely amusing to you. I don't see the joke myself I don't see why you should rake up this old story. Yes, do see. You wish to quarrel, to find an excuse for not answering me, when l asked you
 Lady R.-She was here.
 C.-The Tyrrels never leave Lindenhurst.
 Lady R-The Tyrrels are in Rome.
 e. Is this true Don't push this joke to far.
 Lady R. It is true.
 C.-Then must go.
 Lady R.-Why?
 C.-Is it true that the Tyrrels are here, in Rome?
 Lady R.-It is true.
 C-I must go then. Oh, don't imagine anything extraordinary. These people were kind to me, kind with generous hospitality which is rare. I staid and staid in their house, until 1 feared that-Well, it came to this :: Here were people who, in honesty and good faith had treated me like King; people who
 Lady R.-Dont dilate upon the Tyrrels character just now.
 C.-What was doing in return for all their goodness? found myself trying to win the love of their only child, girl with no knowl- edge of the world who had seen no men to speak of, and who might take me, even me, for very fine fellow.
 Lady R.-You were on the way to get what you wanted.
 C.-I was not scoundrel. knew myself i: man who had knocked about the world, a painting vagabond, social cynic; not worth to touch her hand or look into her eyes. Highfown, you think but was not scoun- drel, and went away.
 Lady R.-But now?
 C.-Now? Well, now, don't want to have to do the thing again.
 Lady R.-Then 1t would be hard to see her again, and go?
 C.-Yes.
 Lady R.-Yeu loved her ?
 C.-I suppose so.
 Lady RI always thought that you were not bad fellow.
 CT am not over-good. I don't wish to open an old wound. That's not extraordinary virtue, is it?
 Lady R.-And the girl what of her
 C.-By this time she has seen scores of men. in all respects better than me, confound them. She Why she
 Lady R.-Stop. Don't say too much about Miss Betty Tyrrel. Put her picture back, and drop the subject. Put the picture back in its place. |
 C.-Very We'll. don't want to bore you (So Ae goes to replace the picture, G'sd drG00s aside tue curtoin. Ihere $ BETTY TYRREL. Then there is silence iaa the room Jor time.
 Betty.-Mr. Huntley,I am very sorry, did not mean to listen.
 C.-Miss Tyrrel- -Betty-is it youP
 B.-Oh, forgive me. did not mean to lis- ten.
 C.-And it is you indeed
 B.-But did not mean it. Oh, you believe that l did not hide myself here to listen.
 C.-You!
 Lady R.-It was my fault.
 C.-What do you mean?