The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1879-03-10

d
forget. Ny business was with Mrs. Eth
bert Thorne.
found that lady alone in the break
fast-room; gay little lady she proved on
acquaintance, so full of gossip, 50 full,
especially, of Philip Barringer's praises,
that business must wait.
| had not been many minutes in her
society before / began to be exceedingly
annoyed; not at her rhapsodies, to these
| had quietly resigned myself But there
was something marked in her glances, a
searching scrutiny.
What did it mean? / questioned.
Was ! younger, fairer, than She liked?
Did she fear dispossession of Philip Bar
ringer?
But Mrs. Ethbert Thorne was not one
to talk long with eyes.
my DEAR" she said suddenly, 81 real
ly should not speak at all, but the resem-
blance is SO very marked"
What did it mean? | stared at her
openly.
"You do not understand, of course"
she continued, merrily; there's a portrait
of a very beautiful young girl in Pills
parlor--much more beautiful than you
pardon me, my dear; but, oh, so very
like. Ii is such mysterious picture,
too Who is it? / have asked Phil. II
dozen times, if once. "A lady who was
engaged to friend of mine in the In
dies, is his invariably reply. My dear,
| really wish you could see it; only |
would not dare take you in Phil.'s pri-
vate parlor; he never allows strangers
there"
l had begun listening to gossip's
story; | sat at its ending pale and still.
There was, then, in this house, picture
of Evelyn Marston somewhere; the face
so fatal to me smiled down from the
walls How had longed to look upon
her-what riches | would have sacrificed
at this moment to see her painted self.
Much more beautiful than you,' but, |
oh, so very like! Was this, then, the |
key to Hart Whitney's perfdy; was it
but fairer copy that had won his tickle
heart?
What did Evelyn Marston on Philip
Barringers walls-a queen enthroned in
his private apartment, on which no stran-
gers eye might look? Perhaps he was
her hopeless lover; perhaps the accepted
one she soon would wed.
was reused by light touch on my
shoulder; Mrs. Ethert Thorne was finally |
awake to the business so long delayed.
"You will teach the children, of course,
mysdear. l will take you to my study
room"
] followed her down the broal hall,
to still The emotion that had so
distracted me. Suddenly she turned and
pointed to door.
"1hat is PhiPs parlor," she whispered;
"if we only dared 90 in."
| gave but furtive glance at it, but
from that moment it haunted me- Daily,
as | passed it, my pulse quickened; ever
| went by Who more than
! had rig t to see Evelyn Marston, to
know how fair she was?
Three months, and this longing had
become a mania, with difficulty sup
pressed. Thrice | had stood by the
wooden Cerberus, with my hand upon
the knob. Shame hitherto had deferred
me; but the time, had come to see Eve
lyn Marston even at the risk of shame.
So | decided, one day in autumn, when
pportunityseemedripc. Children, Philip
had Just vanished down the
roadway; Mrs Ethbert Thorne was doz-
ing sweetly; Sunnybank was mute.
The time had come. | would steal in,
look upon the face that had won my
lover, and he forever satisfied. With
beating heart / crept down the hallway |
with hushed breath crept in.
1t were easy finding Evelyn Marston;
there was but one picture on the walls.
In the far corner | deserted it, with
strained eyes hurrying onward, looking
up finally to see-to look again and
stare. For the face before me was not
Evelyn Marston's, but my own-mne as
it had looked in the old girl days when
Hart Whitney went away.
There was no mistake. remembered
the picture well one of the many had |
given him, one | had wondered not to
find among the articles Philip Barringer
brought back to me.
Much more beautiful, but, oh, so very
like! One mystery was solved But
one.
What was it doing here?
| could only stand with giddy brain
repeating the question, and staring at my
my painted face. How long, | know
not; it was all a dream till | saw
shadow in the sunlight, and Philip Bar
ringer. had but little thought for
him, little wonder for the look he wore
The circumstances of my presence even
were nothing now; | knew but the pres
ent mystery, and he could enlighten me.
"What-"
Eagerly | began the query, but he all
ticpated it.
81 know your question. I saw this
face in the Indies; dreamed of it, day
and night, When Hart Whitney died,
| kept this picture, as one unlikely to be
missed. | was only dreaming then, but
with presence came realization; passion
quickly killed, but passion unto death.
Hopeless, but | would hope; should you
know Hart Whitney's perfidy, you
would surely then forget him; in time"
lie paused as his voice sunk to the soft
cadence of that other day.
'I told you, and what fruit? You
doubted me, you might come to hate me,
| must drop out of your life. Fate has
brought us again together, but | have
never forgotten this; my sole hope now
is that you will let me keep this picture
that you will not take it away from
me-"
Truly day of amazements, 4 day of
mysteries solved but to precipitate fresh
ones. Was this Philip Barringer, the