The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1881-04-14

every look and movement, and saw that
I had him, and believed that 1 could
do what I chose with him.
tHaye you room in this building,
sir2" I demanded.
III have"
"Lead me to it"
There was hesitation in his look, and
repeated my demand with an oath.
He stood irresolute for moment, and
then said if I would wait moment until
he had adjusted some affairs in his room
he would comply with my demand. This
added new food to my suspicious, and J.
| cursed him for bis artfulness. He could
| not.deceiye me, and I reiterated my de-
mand that he should show me the room
at once.
did not think that up to this time the
shameful nature of my suspicious had
really been apprehended by him.
When these dawned upon him, there was
a fire in his eye and quick, painful swell:
ling of his veins and muscles which 1
may never see again. Pain, indignation
and determination were all there. and I
felt in a moment that I had reused "a
nature whose depth and strength I had
failed hitherto to measure. With great
self:control, however, he said, "Mr.
Kennedy you are unjust to the woman
whose happiness, fear, is dearer to me
than to you. Did I feelat liberty to dis
tregard her peace, / would.sooner hug
dagger to my heart than to yield for a
fmoment to your insolence. Even now
you can only enter my room on my con:
ditions. Stand here for a moment and
I will call you"
"Take your own course" doggedly
replied.
He passed up the stairs, and I, to avoid
suspicion, looked up at thel sky. 1t was
one of those cal m winter days that show
a heaven as pure and blue as if storm
had never stained it. I had stood thus
4 hardly ten seconds, when. Mr. Benton
fdescended q few steps and spoke my
name. I followed him up the stairs
Through a dim passage into room chaste
in its appointments, but filled with q
light as soft and pure as if even the
glorious day without had been refined by
passage through some rare medium. In
my state of mind could hardly compre-
hend the objects before me at glance.
But knew that I was in an artists stu
dio. Benton was silent, but my eye Sc
lected at once the prominent painting
of the apartment. i looked and was
lstruck with fit of shivering. It was the
portrait Of my bride-my darling Jane !:
/ was dumb. i could not have spoken hsd
it been to save my life.
I have no idea how long I stood thus,
when Mr.. Benton approached me and
took my unresisting hand.
I, ''Mr. Kennedy" said he, with chok-
ing sound in his throat, II knew of no
proper. way for me to contribute to the
happiness of one whom I have loved
| as I can never love another except by
doing pleasure to the man whom she
has honored with her love. I thought it
would be pleasant to you to have o por-
trait of your wife as she appeared in her
bridal attire, and at my solicitation she
i has been here's number of times to sit for
| her picture. Her friend, Miss Stephens,
| has been here with her, and your servant
| had Just passed from sight when you
came up, with the package containing
| her dress. III have done wrong, forgive
| me; but / thought it would make you
| all so happy p
i. As he closed these words, uttered with
| honest emotion, every one OF which went
like dagger to my heart, found
lstrength to lift my eyes to his. The big
tears were, hanging to his eyelids, and his
| face, in that exquisite light, was as, beau
Itiful as if<it had been, the face. of
an angelrs We looked at one another q
moment, and then,. moved by common
Impulse, threw ourselves into one an
others arms, and cried, sir-crled like
two babies.
O, my God, Tom that wasthe hardest
thing that ever happened to me. I was
killed by magnanimity too great for my
mean heart to fathom. Isefzed him by
the arm at last, led him down stairs, and
took the way to my own house. You
know my impulses, and you know l could
not stop until I had made a clean breast
of it. Invent straightto my house, kissed
Jane dozen times, told the whole story
and made myselfridiculous. Poor Jane !!
she was ashamed of me, and I do not
think she has got over it yet.
"And Bentcn"-I suggested.
"Benton remained and drank tea with
us, in accordance with my earnest wishes
and Gent the picture home the next day
but he has not been here since. I doubt
whether he viii ever como again. The
fact is, your friend, Fred. Kennedy, has
never felt so humble as he has since that
day, and have wondered how Jane, who
knew us both we'll, could have made the
choice she did between u.s."
$50 have T." most emphatically res
ponded.
"Well, now, am bothered to know
what to do with Benton. He is too
proud to receive any favors ofme. lean
not offer him money, cannot offer him
anything. I'll tell you what I've been
thinking about; and you shall tell me
how it strikes you. You see what
fellow I am. I.shall tear myself all to
pieces in few years, and [ have brought
myself to this. Before / die will make
solemn request of Jane TO marryBenton
for second husband. u
At this moment Mrs. Fred. Kennedy
appeared, her cheeks flushed to vermillion
with the effect of the cold evening air. /
did net wonder at the ennobling in
auence of such q pure beauty as hers
upon Benton's sensitive mind. Fred.
introduced me, and somehow weall found
ourselves before the portrait at once, ''
"I've told Tom all about it, said Fred.
to his wife.
Mrs. Kennedy gave him a look of
wounded reproach, and then said to me
| in way which spoke volumes, "You
know Fred"
Fred. has become an humble man and
bids fair to put off the day Of Mr.. Ben
toms happiness to very indefinite future.
Besides, his family has been increased to
that degree that it would be doubtful
whether the artist would be willing to
take the bereayed Mrs. Kennedy with the
"incumbrance." Still, have no doubt
that Fred's. imaginary sacrifice has
served its purpose in restoring, in some