The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1878-07-31
THEnYsTERIOUs PORTkAIr.

~ ~ Sting ~ IN easy chair. before q
olazlng nre, one dreary Noyen,ber aft, after :
loon. Her hat and Coax Law unon ait the
able beside her, lad from the e upur IN; ine
patient glance. she turned toward the
1oor at every sound Of footstep on the
ia tease outside, it was evident that she
,6pected a visitor.
AT last ee door opened and atall, aris-
tocratie-looking young man entered the
room.
Harry, what a long time you have
been ''she exclaimed, springing up from
her scat, What news have you brought2
What does your father say about our
our mafriage?' hcsitating with the shv-
ness OF bride at the last word.
: Reai for yourself, Helen" replied her
husband, handing her an open letter, and
standing opposite her, leaning against the
marble mantleriece, watching intently
the expression of her fair face as she
read
I'm marrying as you hevc done, you have
acted III direct opposition to my wishes.
From this day you are no longer nv son,
and ! wash my hands of YOU forever p
Harry, why did you not tell me Of
this before?' exclaimed Helen, as she
read the hard. cruel words, looking up
through the tears into her husbands face.
IN darling, what was there to tell?"
How could | know that my father would
act In this hard hearted manner? I
knew that he wished me to marry the
daughter CT nobleman living near Mar
ston Hall, and so unite the two estates
bat | had no idea he would cast me off
tor disobeying his wish. And even if I
had known it," he added, fondly clasping
his young bride to his heart, and klssin ?
away the tears from her eyes, 81 should
not have acted differently. My Helen is
worth fifty estates, and as long as she
loves me shall never regret the loss of
Marston Hall and its fair acres. But,
my love" he continued more seriously,
'there is an end to your promised shop
ping expedition into Bond street. You
will have to do without diamonds, now
that your husband is penniless outcast.
instead Of the heir to e15,O0O a year.
'Hush, Harry! Please don't talk like
that she said, hurt at his bitter tone.
"Yon know that it was not of diamonds
and dress was thinking. But what are
you going to do, Harry" she continued,
laying her band upon his arm, and look
ing up sadly into his pale, set face
"You cannot work for a living"
"And why not work for a living?" he
exclaimed, in a determined voice. ''Be.
cause happen to be the son of baro-
net, brought up and educated without
any ideas or knowledge of business? But
| will work for my living, and how nv
little wife that I am not quite unworthy
OF the trust and confidence she reposed
IN me when she placed this little hand in
NINE" he added, STOPPING to kiss the
small white hand that rested cont lingly
upon his arm.
ltwas while pursuing his fayorlte study
Of oil paintings among the famous gale
ries OF Rome that Harry Marston wooed
and won Helen Tracy, governess in an
English family residing in Italy, and the
orphan daughterof an officer in the army.
Before be had known her month, Harry,
who had been in love-or tancied himself
in love--with at least half dozen differ
ent young ladies in as many months, felt
that he had at last met his fate.
Delighted at the idea of being loved
for himself alone, he had not told her of
his real position, and it was not till the
ceremony was over that Helen
discovered that she had married the eldest
son OF baronet, and the heir to an estate
producing e15,ou0 year.
1t was not without some inward mis-
givings 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
Marstcn, 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 inheritan &c; 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.
It was all very well Wien he was heir
10 Marston Hall, and studied painting
mere ly from love of art ;but picture asai
ers, who in those days bod peUn all Hat
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 to devise some
new scheme to replenish his slender
purse, the servant opened the door and
lshercd a white haired old gentleman in
10 the room. g
Placing his chair by the fire for his Wis
tor. Harry inquired his business. .
"You are portrait painter, I 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 commission at last.
"Well, sir, I want you to paint the por-
RAFT of my daughter 4.
"With pleasure, sir,' said Harry ca
serly. "When can the lady give me the
irst sitting2''
"Alas! sir, she is dead--dead to me
;hesc twenty years, and I killed her
broke her heart with my harshness and