The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1879-02-06

telling him of his marriage, which we're
more than realized by the result, as we
shall see 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 to maintain
himself and his young wife by his own
exertions, and thinking that surely his
father would rlent and be reconciled to
him after time, Harry troubled him
self very little about his lost inherit
ance and though their new home con
sistins OF three small, poorlyfnrnished
| rooms in back strect-was very differ
ent from the grand old mansion to
which he had hoped to take his bri lie,
he set 10 work cheerfully at his favorite
art, and tried hard to cain living by
painting pictures and portraits. But he
soon found that it was not so easy as he
thought
1t was all very we'll when he was heir
to Marston Hall, and studied painting
merely from love of art but picture
dealers, who in those days had been all
fattery and obsequiousness to the young
heir, now that he really 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 bis studio, trying to devise some
new scheme to replenish lis s!enper
4hn ,,,.nnl fba .lnp, .,tl
ushered & white-haired old gentleman
into the room.
Placing chair by the fire for his Wis
itor. Harry inquired his business
you are a portrait painter. ] believe,
sirl" said the old gentleman, looking at
him through his gold spectacles.
"Ihat is my profession, sir, replied
Harry, delighted at the thought OF hay
ing found q commission at last.
"Well, sin, | want you to paint the
portrait of my daughter
with pleasure, SIR said Harry ca
ger!y.
When can the lady give me the first
sittingl'
ALAS sir, she is dead-dead to me
these twenty years, and | killed her
broke her heart with my harshmess and
crueltyr exclaimed the old man, in IN
exciting, trembling voice.
4 strange chill came over Harry, as
the idea that his mysterious visitor must
be an escaped lunatic crossed his mind;
hut mastering, with an ettoIt, his emo
sipp fine q+,.lu,rar continued.
Pardon me, young sir This is OF 10
interest 70 you. Ny daughter is dead,
and want you to paint her portrait
from my description, IS | perfectly well
remember her twenty years ago"
II will do my best, sin but ii viii be
no easy task, and you must be prepared
for many disappointm ents, said Harry,
when, having given Il long description OF
the form and features OF his long lost
d,.ughte-, the old man rose to depart,
and for weeks he worked necessarily up
on 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 be sketcled face after
face, as if under the influence of a spell
At last one evening, wearied with u
day of fruitlcss exertion, he was sitting
over the fire watching his wife, who sat
opposite, busy upon some needlework,
when an idea suddenly flashed upon
him.
"Tall, fair, with golden hair and dark
blue eycsl Why. Helen, it is the very
picture of yoursef!' he exclaimed, start
ing from his seat, taking his wife's fair
face between his two hands, and gazing
intently into her eyes.
Without losing moment he sat down
and commenced to sketch Helen's 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 un
conscious of his presence, until, with the
cry Of "Helen, my daughter " the old
man hurled him aside, and stood en-
tranced before the portrait.
After gazing some minutes in 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.
cit is the portrait of nv wife" replied