The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1878-04-18
heads, and politely but firmly declined to

heads, and politely but firmly declined t.
purchase.
At las, one dreary afternoon, whey
Harry was sitting in the little room b.
called his studio, trying to devise SOM
new scheme to replenish his ,slendo
purse, the servant opened the door ant
ushe1ed a white -haird old gentleman int,
the room.
Placing chair by the fire for his visit
or, Harry inquire bis business,
You are portrait painter, believe
sir?" said the old gentleman, looking Al
him through his gold spectacles.
"That is my profession. sir" replied
Harry, delighted at the thought of having
found commission at last.
Well, sir, want you to Faint the
portrait Of my daughter"
With pleasure, sir" said Harry,
eagerly. when can the lady give me
the first sitting?'
"Alas, sir! she is dead-dead to me
these twenty years. killed her! brokc p
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. hut
mastering, with an effort, his emotion. the
stranger continued:
"Pardon me, young sir. This is of no in
terest to you. My daughter is dead, and
:! want you to paint her portrait from nv
description: as perfectly we'll remember
her twenty years ago."
II 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 him long descrip.
ton OF the form and features Of his long
lost daughter, the old man rose to depart:
and for weeks he worked necessarily I'D
on the mysterious portrait of the dead
girl, making sketch after sketch, each of
which was rejected by the remorse strick-
en- father, until the work began to exer-
else strange kind of fascination over
him, and he sketclled face after, as if un-
der the influence of a spell.
AT last one evening, wearicd with q dav
OF truitless cxertion, he was sitting over
the fire watching his wife, who sat
opposite busy with some nccd.e-work.
when an idea suddenly flashed upon him.
Tall, fair, with golden hair and dark
blue eyes. "Why, Helen, it is the yery
picture of yourselt!" he exclaimed, start
ing from his seat, taking his wice's fair
face between his two hands, and gazing
into her eyes.
without losing moment, he sat down
and commenced to sketch Helen's face,
and when his strange patron called, the
next morning, Harry was busily engaged
putting the finishing touches to his nor
trait that be did not hear him enter the
room, and worked on for some moments
unconscious of his presence, until, with
cry OF "HeIen! my daughtcr!" the old
hurried him aside, and stood entranced
before the portrait.
Alter gazing for some minutes in
silence, broken only by the half-suppress-
ed >obs of remorse, the old man turned
slowly around to Harry, and asked him
IN eager Voice where he had obtained the
original of the picture.
1T is the portrait Of my wife," replied
he.
"Your wife, sir! Who was she!
Pardon me for asking the question:" he
added j" but have heard lately that nv
poor Helen lett an orphan daughter. and
for the last six months I have been vainly
trying to find the child of my lost daugh-
ter, so that by kindness apd devotion to
my grandchild might, in part at least,
atone for my harshuess toward her moth
er."
Harry was beginning to tell him the
Story oof, 1Y.>Io
and his subsequent marriage with Hell
en- when the door opened, and his wife
entered the room.
Perceiving that her husband was en-
gagged, she was about to retreat, when
tue old gentleman stopped her, and after
looking earnestly in her face for few
exclaimed, "PArtlon me, madam
can you tell me your mothers maiden
"Helen Trehernc, replied Helen, won-
deringly.
Il knew it, 1 knew it," exclaimed tic
old man, in al excited voice. AT last | |
have found the child Of my poor lost
daughter''
In few words Mr.. Treherne explained
how ne had cast off his only child, on ac-
count of her marriag. 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, II can atone
in some measure for my hardness toward !
my Helen by taking her Helen to my
heart, and making her my daughter
1t is needless to add that when Sir |
Philip Marston heard that his son had |
married the daughter Of one of the 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-galIery Of which no painting is
more valued and treasured than THE
Mysterious Portraits
Frozen TO Death.