The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1880-08-28

Hartley, drawing his chair nearer, pre-
pared to listen.
Mr.. kesteven moved his hands to-
gether, opened them. looked at them on
both sides, as if doubtful of their clean
ness, then began: 1.-The truth is. Mr..
Hartley, my daughter has rooted aver
sion to having her portrait taken-or,
rather, to the trying ordeal Of the neces-
slty OF slttlngs; consequently I-she is
my only child, and | am perhaps foolish
ly Fond of her'-again a pause and q
scrutiny Of the well-kept hands"
wish it to be done without her knowing.
In fact, it must be done SO or not Mt all. .
That, Mr.. kesteven, is difficulty
through which / confess | do not see my
way, said Leonard Hartley, smiling.
"Oh, it will be easy, was the quick
response. "Singularly enough, my-my
daughters own words suggested the
means. Mr.. Hartly, do you remember
the c0nccrsazio1ae six weeks ago."
Certainly! =
at was there then, that my daughter
remarked she should like you to paint
her portrait, if any one did; but she add
ed, ''if | am ever to have it taken, it
know what is going on"
8 A singular fancy" smiled the artist
.'It is; but one that for the sake of
having likeness of her, the only being
have to love, went Oh the visitor. still
restlessly, 81 would yield at any cost.
/ Now my daughter has not been well late
/ ly She is delicate; that makes me nerv-
! Gus. Perhaps you perceive it? To in
sure her rest, an opiate Is administered
! to her every day after dinner. We make
| it five now, when she has long sleep
! a sound sleep on the sofa in the drawing
room. There is no fear of her waking.
| Would you, Mr.. Hartley, consent to
humor her desire, and take her hken ess
/ then %
Leonard Hartley paused, con sidering.
" You see, for good portrait, SO much
rests on expression, he said.
! Il am aware of that; therefore ! have
1 come to a good painter" And Mr..
| hesteyen bowed "You shall have help,
Mr. Hartley, from her dear deadmother's
miniature, taken when at her age. The
eyes, the expression, are Mabel's own
/ Stay Pardon me; / have yet one other
| thing to ask. Could YOU, IN four even
! ings-malling the hours as long as you
! piease-take the likeness sufficiently to
! finish it from recollection and the minia-
/ tnres aid.
| The artist answered that he could; and
| finally, the terms, handsome ones, never
! demured at by Mr. Kesteven, being
settled, it was arranged that Leonard
| Hartley should make his first visit next
morning.
We'll. if there was ever a stranger
whim than this ~ he reflected, as easel,
! colors and canvas having been sent dur
ing the day, little before the appointed
hour he proceeded to Belgrave square
Reaching his destination he was at
once ushered into the library, where he
found Mr. Kesteven waiting
"Mr. Hartley" exclaimed the old imam
pressing his hand warmly, Z" | shall never
forget your kindness. All, when you are
married, with children your own, you'll
know what fathers love is; but | trust
1t will not be for a daughter 50 delicate,
poor girl, as mine, If YOU see memoved,
know that that is the cause. Now, if you
please. we will Co."
Opening the door, Mr.. kesteven led
the way up the thickly capeted stairs,
and showed the artist into the drawing
room. The soft, subdUed light burning
there showed the tasteful elegance of the
furniture. But Leonard Hartley eyes
went quickly to the couch. He could
not help starting as he beheld lying on
1t III a quiet 5lumber one Of the loveliest
girls he had ever seen.
Her complexion was of singular fair
ness, while the bloom on her cheek was
as delicate as full blown rose. Her
/ hair, of a-soft gold brown, was braided
back, and apparently confined by bunch
of forget -me-nots. She was III evening
dress and lay, the ivory lids with their
long silken lashes closed, with one hand
lightly on her bosom, and the other by
her side As the father had said, that
sweet face was worthy ofany painters skill
and Leonard Hartley felt that, despite
the singHlarity of the circumstances, here
he would exceed his best.
The easel and other requirements had
I already been placed, and Hartley, after
7 arranging them as he desired with the
aid of a gray-headed butler, who moved
/ as noiseles5ly on tip-toe as if his mis-
/ tress' slumber had been of the Ightest,
I at once set to work.
I Iii a low chair a few feet behind him
sat Mr. Kesteven: but rarely did the two
I cAtudBPt even Il NIlSI)SItO NOIt. LIE
( old mans head was resting on the roof
/ Of his hand, save when the artist was con-
scious that he had risen, and was looking
over his shoulder.
For an hour, engrossed by his subject,
1 Leonard Hartley worked vigorously. Al
ready in outline the lovely features be-
/ gan dimly to look out from the canvas,
but as the next hour stole on the silence
began to Cypress him.
CHANGING round, he still saw the old
man III the same position. The stiffness
became almost unbearable, made more
tortuous by the monotonous ticking of a
clock somewhere in the room.
At the end Of the second hour he could
support It no longer, and closed the sit
ting.
you'll come Tomorrow" inquired Mr..
Kesteven, wistfully.
"Of course" smiled the artist. GA
compact is a compact. This is the
strangest whim for young lady | even
heard of. [ could succeed SO much bet
ter were your daughter awake.
Il know know; but, as / told you
that's impossible. VIII you make the
: four evenings suffice, for on the fifth my
t daughter and leave here?
"Oh, YES, / can take the canvas home
: if Your foOtman viii call a cab, re
t marked the artist. by the help of the
r miniature [ can work upon it at my stu
do tomorrow, and get it advanced be