The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-09-18
THE PORTRAIT OF THE DEAD.

THE PORTRAIT OF THE DEAD.
The walls of the suite of rooms were
hung with pictures of all sizes and sub
jects. The tables were covered with
prints, statuets, and gems, and Curl
osities of art. The guests of both sexes
were numerous, representing art, litera-
ture, beauty and fashion.
Hartley" exclaimed an elderly,
grizzed artist, tapping a younger broth.
er OF the brush on the shoulder, s'come
and look at this portrait. AS it is in
your line should like your opinion.
"lsn't it in my line too, GrayP" asked
youthful aspirant to Burlington fame.
Yours, my dear Oottp Yours,
thought, was. always below the line,'
laughed the elder, g and L fear, there it
will always remain. Come, Hartley. -
Linking his arm in that of the other,
he drew him toward the wall.
Leonard Hartley, tall, well-looking,
gentlemanly man, the possessor of a
much-envied superb red-brown beard,
though only thirty, had already made
tolerabie renown as portrait painter.
Hating before the likeness-that of a
dark. handsome lady of forty-he had
been brought to criticise, he regarded it
for some moments in silence.
"WellP" quered Gray.
"Well, [ should say it's good por-
trait, Enthusiastically resembling the orig
inal, be she whom she may but 1
don't like it," ''i +atiftE 'ti.Y
''Exactly. Itwants firmness of touch
the iesh-tints need more transparency
It's not that. To me it seems one
OF rs best; but there is something about
it that makes me shudder, as if it were
uncanny.n Hr t.e ta
That's curious" remarked Gray.
" Very. No picture ever had such an
effect on me before. It's fancy, l sup
pose. Who is the ladyp''
"Who was she, rather.n
/" Is she, then, no longer ivingP"
Not SIX months ago F. painted this
picture from dead model
" Good Heaven!" And Leonard Hart
ley's cheek absolutely turned pale as he
retreated from the portrait. "That,
then, accounts for my feeling"
"Why, what sensitive fellow you
are!" laughed his companion. of.
got two hundred dollars for doing it,
Had they paid me five hundred I
wouldn't have painted it!' was the re-
spouse. "Come away; the likeness
seems to cast gloom over this corner
of the room.
The above conversation had been
partly overheard by fine-looking old
gentleman with slvery hair, and his
daughter, a lovely, bright-eyed girl, of
nineteen, who leaned on his arm. AS
the artists moved to another part of the
room, the others approached the por-
trait, the old gentleman regarding it
curiously, and the girl with awe.
"After death!'' she murmured. SIT
1T is unpleasant: isn't it, papap But
l should never have detected it as did
that gentleman. Who is he?'' M
Leonard Hartley, my love, the we'll
known portrait painter"
"ReallyP" and the girls violet eyes
followed the artist with admiration.
"Papa, if | ever have my portrait
painted, | should like Mr.. Hartley to
do it,
"Well, pet, SO he shall. Nothing
would give me greater pleasure, Mabel.
1 hate those cold brown photographs.
I'll get to speak to him tonight"
No, no, papa!' laughed the girl,
her delicate complexion flushing as she
frightened her hold on her companions
arm. "I only testing. You must,
dear, be content with the photographs,
for could never undergo the ordeal of
sitting for my portrait. If it's ever
done, it must be while | am asleep. By
the way she added, merrily, "some
persons, they say, look best when they
are asleep"
elf they don't open their mouths and
snore, pet. Well, then, 1 am not to
speak to Hartleyp" '.
:" No, please, papa; could not think
OF such a thing. What is that picture
yonderp Let us get closer"
A minute after they were engulfed in
the crowd, becoming part of it.
Six weeks had elapsed since the above
little episode at the conversazione, when,
one evening, returning from his club
dinner to his studio, Leonard Hartley
found visitor awaiting him.
He was elderly, with long slvery hair,
and in appearance and manner the per-
feet gentleman. He was seated in the
midst of the studios paraphcrnalia, on
an old oak fifteenth century chair, with
his face resting on his hands.
So noiselessly had the artist entered,
or so profound were the VISITORS medi-
tations, that his arrival was not observ-
ed. Therefore after a few seconds stare
of wonderment, the artist coughed.
The visitor, starting, looked up then,
rising to his feet, with a courteous, apol-
ogetic bow, said, "Ten thousand par
dons, Mr.. Hartley. II fear l must
have dozed. Calling ten minutes ago,
and your servant saying you would
speedily return, he was kind enough to
permit me to wait, my business being
rather pressing"
"He did perfectly right, sir" said the
artist. u0u 3t .a2f'tI