The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1880-04-29

broke her heart with my barshness and
cruelty!" exclaimed the old man, in an
excited, trembling voice.
a strange chill came over Harry, az
the idea that his mysterious visitor
must be an escaped lunatic crossed his
mind; but mastering, with an. effort, his
emotion, the stranger continued:
pardon me, young sir. This is Of nc
interest to you. My daughter is dead
and want you to paint her portrait
from my description, as perfectly well
remember her twenty years ago"
4" / will do my best, sir, but it will be
no easy task, and you must be prepared
for many d'sappointments," said Harry
Having given long description
Of the form and features OF his long
lost daughter, the old man rose to de-
part, and for weeks Harry worked inces
sanity upon the mysterious portrait OF
the dead girl, making sketch after
sketch, each Of which was rejected by
the rcmorse stricken father until the
work began 10 exercise Il strange kind
Of fascination over him, and he sketchcd
face after face, ~ if under the influence
Of 4 spell.
At last, one evening, wcaricd with q
day OF fruilless cXcrtion, he was sitting
over the fire watching his wife, who sat
opposite, busy upon some needcwork,
when an idea suddenly flashed upon
him.
"TaIl, fair, with golden hair and dark
blue eycsl Why Helen, it is the very
picture Of yoursef?' he exclaimed,
starting from his seat, taking his wif3's
fair face between his two hands, and
gazing intently into her eyss.
Without losing moment he sat down
and commenced to sketch lIelen's face
and when his strange patron called the
next day, Harry was 80 bnsily engaged
putting the finishing touches TO his p0r-
trait that he did not hear him enter the
room, and worked on for some moments
unconscious Of his presence, until, with
the cry Of " Helen, my daughter" the
old man hurried him aside, and stood
cntranced before the portrait
After gazing for fomc minutes in
silence, broken only by his own half
suppressed sobs of remorse, the old man
turned slowly around to Harry, and
asked him in an eager voice where he
had obtained the original of the picture.
1T is the portrait OF my wife," re.
piled he.
Your wife, sir! Who was she?
Pardon me for asking the question: he
added "buL | have heard lately that
my poor Helen ltfC an orphan daughter,
and for the last nix months have been
vainly trying to find the child Of my
lost daughter, 80 that by kindness and
devotion +, my grapdchild ! might, in
part at least, atone for my hafshncrs
toward her mother
Harry was beginning to tell him the
story OF his meeting with Helen at
Rome, and their subsequent marriage,
when the dor opened, and his wife Ell
tered the room.
Percciving that her husband was en-
gagged, she was about to retreat, when
the old gentleman stopped her sind,
after looking earnestly in her face for
few moments exc aimed, "Pardon me,
madame can you tell me your mothcrs
maiden uame|
Helen Trchcrnc,' replied Helen,
wonderinEly
81 knew it knew ij." exclaimed
the old man, in an excited voice. "At
last have found the child Of my poor
lost daughtcrl'
In few words Mr.. Trchcrnc cx-
pldincd how he had cast oil his only
child on account Of her marriage with
poor officer, and refused even TO open
her letters when she wrote asking Tor
forgiveness.
"But, thank Hcaven" said he, when
he had finished his sad story, " | can
atone in some measure for my harsh
ness toward my Helen by taking her
Helen to my heart, and making her my
daughter
1t is needless to add that, when Sir
Philip MarstOn heard that his sou had
married the heiress Of one Of the finest
aud Oldest estates in the country, he at
once wrote letter of reconciliation to
Harry, and, after all, Helen eventually
b came mistress Of Maraton Hall, in the
picture gallery of which no painting is
more valued and treasured than " The
Portrait