Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1880-01-28

and the reason for which they were said
would sting her to the quick, and nerve her
to even greater energy than before.
The path was much less thorny than she
had expected she found herself, she scarcely
knew how, put in the way of good models
and words OF Instruction. Then one or two
celebrated artists began TO notice the pic
lures with "E. g." tucked away in one
corner, and the quiet little studio often held
many an ar. A." Edith had long since re-
moved to real studio" as Mrs. Grierson
called it, and reveled in the good light and
abundance Of room, her pictures gaining
color and strength like plants. Noneof them
aspired to be Scenes from Macbeth now.
" +. g." bad gained modesty with knowl-
edge, and knew what was beyond her depth.
The years pass quickly by sometimes, and
yet work wondrous changes, and when five
had been counted from that May-day when
Macbeth was turned out of the exhibition,
"E. G." found herself really famous and
nearly rich. Her mother could no longer
lament by-gone days on the score of lodgings,
for pretty villa at Bayswater was their
home, and the semi.detached house was a
nightmare of the past
Time can not accomplish all things, how
ever, and he had failed TO quench Edith's
bitter hatred toward Stretton, that burned
as fiercely as when, lustrum ago, she had
first heard that he had reviled her picture
out of spite. The tables were turned she
was rich, and he was poor; she was famous,
and his name was scarcely known vet it
seemed as if her triumph lacked the climax
of revenge. But the time was not far dis.
tant when that finishing touch could be
given if she chose.
One evening, at little dinner party given
in her honor, Edith heard that Stretton was
very i'll and in really destitute circumstances
She sat perfectly silent, while small fire of
CALCULATIONS ran round the table. Nearly
every one knew and liked Stretton, and were
all lawfully sorry" or every much dis
tressed," as their inclinations were toward
slang or pure English. Some wondered
that, with his rare talent, he had not been
more successful pecuniarily; but he seemed
to neglect his opportunities he was rather
dilettante in art; it was a great pity, he
was such good fellow; something must be
done, ETC., etc.
The fact was that Stretton was too true
an artist to become tradesman in his pro-
fession. He studied nature, and scorned all
tricks-those tricks that make money in this
world. Alas He was before his age. Yet
he was by no means failure aud people
were just beginning dimly to appreciate his
wonderful ability, when this illness came
and "knocked his labors all endways," as
little Boggs would phrase it, But that
same illness brought out the kind, stanch
English hearts, and his friends became ad-
mirers, and his admirers friends, as the sub
Act was discussed over fish and game.
Edith merely looked grim, and asked for his
address, which she took down carefully in
her notebook.
The following day she fought the whole
thing out in her mind she would 20 and
visit him in all the glory of her prosperity (;
she would let him see that the artist, whose
picture he had treated with such open scorn,
had found success but-She checked her.
self; it was not right to give way to such
feelings. The poor fellow was sick and
helpless; she should not go to see him just
from revenge. She began to think that
cherishing hatred had warped one side of
her nature. Once she would have shrunk
with horror from tramping on fallen foe
-" hitting a fellow when he's down." He
certainly had behaved contemptibly, but
well, she would forgive him, and 60 to
him in Christian charity; and, at the same
time, she would not object to his being con-
scious that she had prospered. So that af-
ternoon, with what are called mixed mo-
tives, | believe, she stepped into her little
brougham, dressed in the richest of black
silks to express long bank account, and
carrying a basket of peaches and white
grapes to express the Christian charity part.
She stopped at a careworn-looking house,
where neat, faded old woman opened the
door, and, upon Mr.. Stretton being inquired
for, directed her to the second floor, front.
She was lame, or she would go up herself,
| and her sister was out who usually answered
the bell" So Miss Grierson mounted the
stairs alone, and tapped at the second floor,
front" In moment little Boggs appeared,
with very red eyes, and rather sternly ush-
cred her in, without a word of greeting.
Edith began, graciously, How do you
do, Mr.. Boggs | came" but stopped
short, petrifed. Was that her Scene from
Macbeth hanging over the mantel-piece
As surely as it was the 2lst of May, and
that she was alive and breathing. And what
were those smaller ones on either side
Two studies from Shakespeare, with E. g."
in the corner She slowly surveyed the
walls. They were covered with her earlier
pctures-those that she had carried to
SnelPs with her own hands.
well, you've found it out at last" said
little Boggs, watching her, with folded arms.
"What does it mean 2" she gasped.
"Meanl |" cried little Boggs, recklessly.
"Well, he can't live more than two hours,
aud you might as well know all. 1t means
that he has sacrificed his whole life"
And there, in that little second floor,
'front.'" that warm May afternoon, Edith
Grierson heard the whole story-how STREET
ton had bought her pictures and praised
them to other people; how he had neglected
tkot aba Oh b.tb tbo,.
how he had helped her in secret and served
his talents, to atone for few hasty words
that he had spoken and she had overheard
Miss Grierson Just sat down on the hard.
est chair in the room, and began to cry, with
her face hidden in her hands. "But l
thought he had spite against me ?" she
said at length.
"Spite !" snorted little Boggs, with un-
reasonable ferceness, considering that he
had given her the impression himself. He
never had spite against any one in his life.
He made me come and tell you that, because
he thought you wouldn't feel so mortified
then at what you had heard"
Miss Grierson lifted her head, and looked
at the " Scene from Macbeth" Well, it is
abominably bad" she said, and smiled
through her tears.
Little Boggs was not touched by this con-
cession one whit; he still continued TO re-
gard her fercely, and would no doubt have
said something piercing sharp, but she
turned imploringly.
"Is he really dying 2"
"Well, no." returned little Boggs; "but
he is in great danger"
"Boggsl' called faint voice from the
next room.
Miss Grierson started up. Here is some
fruit-perhaps he may like" she said, thrust
ing the little basket in his hand. "I'll come
tomorrow. Let me know if-I can-do
anything So the fruit brought in half
triumph was given in whole kindness.
"God bless you said little Boggs, re-
lenting at her tear-stained face. Then she
hurried from the room, and he went on tip
toe to Stretton's bedside.
"Well, old fellow, how do you feel now :"
"Eh :" said Stretton, languidly.
"How do you feel P-never mind; you
needn't speak, old boy. Who do you think
has been here ? Miss Grierson. 'E. g.
you know, old fellow, and she has brought
you these grapes-aren't they jolly, old fel.
low f-and she's coming tomorrow. Don't
you think you'll be able to see her :"
II knotc | shall, said Stretton, slowly.
The rest of my story is soon told. Edith
and her mother came the next day, and the
next--in fact, every day and though kind
friends tiDcked to the sick-bed, as is the
wont of Euglishmen, only too anxious to do
and everything, they constituted