The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1879-08-12

II you Will. IL our marriage nau Deen ono
of affection, our relations might have been
different. But / cannot forget that our I'M
ion was made by the wliim of third party
and forgive me, Nh Haslehurst, but think
your father was quite too romantic and over
nice in his sense of honor for this practical
country and century. Our fathers specr-
lated jointly my father lost all, and the
shock killed him. Your parent made q
fortune, and, after enjoying it for years, be-
gan to feel, just as he was dying, that ne
ought to make some reparation tor-was II
an imagined sense of great wrong done
He tells you that unless you make me your
wife he shall divide the property equally
between us, but that If you marry me you
shall still be his heir OF ALL"
"How do you know all this, Madeline2"
Il heard it on my wedding morning."
she replied, with bitter glance at the pic
! ture
Earle Haslehurst's handsome and high
bred features lost something of the chilly
pride that distinguished him. A faint
smile of plying tenderness came into his
blue eyes.
"Can we not learn to love each other,
MadelineW
"No," she answered, not looking at him.
Besides the obstacle of which we have
spoken. we are too unlike in habit, and
feelings, and principle. The man love
must be an artist like myself, and he must
woe me to win me, and when | am won
must be his confdant and companion-not
creature to simply pour his coffee, enter.
tain his guests, amuse him when he chooses,
and be exhibited by him occasionally in his
carriage or box at the opera"
For an instant curious smile crept
around the red lips under his brown nous
tache, and then he turned from her angrily
"And | suppose" he cried, that you will
exhibit yonder creation Of passion and mis-
cry in some gallery, and let it speak to the
whole world of the helpless, hopeless life we
are living And by and by it will attract
the incarnate ideal with his artistic tastes
and his poetic sympathies, and bouquets
will follow, and what we fellows with
coarser souls would call a flrtation--per-
haps you will call it an aesthetic affinity
and platonic pleasures will brighten your
walk of despair"
This is the picture l intend to exhibit"
she said, not replying to the sarcastic por-
ton of his speech, and drawing aside the
pale, blue drapery from framed portrait
a masculine head in profile.
He started, looked at her eagerly, and
then back to the picture.
The head was his-hls features, his hair,
his eyes-but yet it was not his own. There
was spirit of fire, soul of passion, a
picturesque poise of the head, and the Ru-
bens hat that he detested.
Men paint their ideal women, and why
should not woman paint her ideal man?'
she observed simply.
Perhaps he thought the remark unan-
swerable, for he said no more; but, as he
left her, the same odd smile lurked about
his handsome mouth.
These two. whose welded life seemed so
full of discord, had been husband and wife
for less than year. Both were proud and
both were obstinate, and both had hidden
and highly emotional natures that only the
mighty potency of real reciprocal love
would ever reveal.
Several weeks after Madelme's portrait
picture was exhibited in public gallery,
another by an unknown artist, also in pro-
file, was hung beside it. When Madeline
! first saw it, the hot blood colorcd her proud,
marblestill face for she instantly recog-
nized herself. The same day her own pic
ture was taken away by purchaser whose
name she could not learn, and who paid an
astonishing price for it.
st was bought by an artist" she was in
formed.
Madeline" said her husband to her one
day, have you seen any OF Vernon Rossi
ter's sea-pieces!"
Yes; l think they are beautiful" she
returned.
II will take you to his studio, if you
wish to 60" he rejoined.
And so they went together. Vernon
Rossiter was out, but they were privileged
to enter.
do you know why l brought you here,
Madeline"
II was so pleased to come that ! did not
think of anything else" was her response
"Indeed,' was the satirical retort well,
do you recognize tmsi"
She turned and saw the profile with the
Rubens hat,
And this"
She looked and saw a full-length por-
trait of herself
How long have you known Vernon Ros-
siterl' he asked sternly. when andwhere
did you sit for thisl All! you need not an.
swer; I am prepared to disbelieve anything
that you may say"
They drove home in utter silence, and as
Mr.. Haslehurst followed her into the paror
his keen eyes saw on the table magnif-
cent basket of tlowers-tube roses, blue
panses and scarlet carnations, from which
dangled perfumed card bearing the name
Of Vernon Rossiter.
From that day Earle Iaelehurst lived
more apart from his wife than before. lie
was often ironical, seemingly neglectful,
but never positively unkind. And Made
line, stunning him and society, wondered
and dreamed in her little world of art, and
wasted the fire and freshness of her youth
in unavailing warnings and bitter regret.
Her nature cried for love, her lips craved
for kisses, and her heart was hungry for