The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1880-03-18

library where Sir Robert was sitting.
Il wish you'd come out, father, into
the lime-tree walk to Edmund-he's s
gone mad the boy cried.
When Sir Robert went out, Ed
mund was standing leaning against
one Of the lme-trees, gazing at the
green space which contained the ped
estal and the urn. When he was en-
treated to come in, he answered quite
gently, that if he only waited patient
ly she would be sure to come back.
This is where she always comes. She
is fond of this place" he said. There
are things [ don't understand about
her, but she will come. | am sure she
will come if you will only let me
wait Tell me, my good fellow, all
about it, Sir Robert said. He was a
kind man when his attention was full
ly reused, and now he remembered
that his wife had told him something
of strange lady whom Edmund had
seen in the park. Edmund told him
the whole story, standing there with
his back against the tree. He asked
Sir Robert first to stand close to him,
almost behind him, that nothing
might interfere with his clear vision
round. And then he told him all.
She always tricks me-" he said, with
an attempt at laugh. "She is so in
nocent-like a child. How she got
away this time | cannot tell There
seems nothing to hide behind here.
But she always does it. | confess,
sir" he added, with great candor and
gravity, there are many things about
her | do not understand; but whatever
they are, [ am ready to accept them
ALL"
Have you ever seen her more than
once in the same day." asked Sir Rob
ert. MOP" "Then come with me,
Edmund, it is of no use waiting. |
think | can tell you something about
her." Sir Robert put his arm into
that Of the young man. He scarcely
knew himself what he meant; but it
was clear that something must be
done. And Edmund yielded to the
mingled reason and temptation. No,
he had never seen her twice the same
day; and to know about her, was not
that what he wanted most in the
world? He suffered himself, after one
long glance around, to be led away.
Sir Robert took him up stairs to an
old gallery which he remembered very
well as a child, which had been given
up to the children's romps on wet days,
a place full of pictures, the accumula-
tlOns of an old hOuse-all kinds of
grim portraits of early Beresfords.
There were some good pictures among
them, he had always remembered to
have heard said, and so long as Ed
mund could recollect there had been
an intention expressed Of disinterring
these treasures. II don't know where
it is exactly; | don't know if it is still
here. 1t was by pupil of Sir JOSH
ua's, and with something of his feel
ing. | have always intended bringing
it downstairs" Sir Robert said, run
ming as he spoke among old dusty can
vases. Edmund stood by listless, in
the lull of reaction after his great ex-
element. 1t vas not here, he
thought, that anything would be told
him about her He did not under
stand what his companion meant. He
was only waiting. feeling hazily that
he had some further trial Of patience
to go through, not very anxious now
for anything but the end Of the day,
and that another might dawn, on
which, perhaps, he might see her
again.
WAS she like this?" said Robert, at
last. Edmund went after him slowly,
languidly, to the square Of light in
front of the great window whittier he
was dragging picture in an old-fash-
ioned black frame. Then the young
man gave a great cry.
There she stood looking out of the
old canvass with the smile he knew so
well-her blue eyes looking upwards,
the soft curves about her mouth. her
hands clasped before her, and every de-
tail exactly as he had seen her an
hour ago; the white dress with its
founce, the black dress with all its
little frills. Then he fell down on
his knees before the beautiful little
figure, with a cry which was half
'titli Ill anu 1ittlI JOD'
Sir Robert drew his breath quick;
in fact, he had not been prepared for
such success to his experiment. He
was confounded by the explanation he
had himself suggested. ''Do you
mean that this is-the persona" he
said, in a husky voice, and glanced
around him with a certain shrinking.
His ruddy countenance paled. 81
should prefer" he said, with a little
difficulty, ''to tell you the story in my
own room. But turn first to the back
of the picture and look at the date.
Now come along: | don't like this
vacant old place"
Edmund looked at the date; it did
not convey any particular idea to his
mind.
Seven, seven. seven" he said to
himself; ''seven is one of the numbers
of perfection. 1t must be that the
painter had meant" Otherwise it
made no impression upon him. He
went down to the library, having first
placed the picture in the light where
he could come and worship it again.
Sir Robert sat down in his usual pale.
Sit down, Edmund" he said, my
poor boy. I am afraid you are not in
your usual health. You must see the
doctor: you must try change of
scene"
What has that to do with it?"
said Edmund, astonished. you were
to tell me who she is-that is of far
more Importance to me than my
health, which is excellent, all the
same. Who is she? You gave me
your promise"
Is" said Sir Robert. Edmund.
my dear fellow, you must have heard
the story, though you don't remember