Litchfield enquirer., 1881-03-24

1 he touched the bell at his elbow. The sum- ! mons was answered by his house keeper, a
 stately. high-nosed old dame, wearing the cap
 and fichu Of her native province of Liege. Tell Monsieur Bernhardt that I wish to ] speak to him.
 Instead of leaving the room she closed the 1 door, and approached him mysteriously. He l is not in the house. Monsieur. she said. His bed has not been slept in, and-and have just found this letter, addressed to you, on his
 table,
 She fingered, watching him curiously, as he opened it. He dismissed her with one sharp word, then read it through, his face growing | darker with every line.
 'So-he is gone to study in Rome, he re- peated, with sour smile, when he had finish ed. Very well; he may starve in Rome. I | have done with him.
 He took vesta-match from the inkstand.
 twisted the letter, deliberately burnt it., and then mounted the stairs to the banquet-room The painting materials were gone, but the un- | 6nIshed portrait remained on the easel. He
 drowned as his eyes fell upon it. He guessed whom it represented, and his heart was bitter against this girl, who, it seemed from Bern l hardt's letter, had encouraged him in his dis ! obedience A palette knife lay on the ledge of the easel; in sudden impulse of resentment l he took it up and was about to cut the canvas from the frame, but as he raised his hand, the
 sweet eyes seemed to meet his with wistful appeal. as if in depreciation of his anger His l hand fell. his brow relaxed he gazed at the
 fair face with sort of fascination. Then, as he noted the execution of the pic | ture, new expression dawned in his eyes a
 mingling of astonishment and half re luctant admiration. If the lad could paint in this way
 at twenty, what might he not achieve when his powers were matured? An uncomfortable feeling took possession of the old merchant,
 Aad he been mistaken after all? Had Bern hardt done wisely in disobeying him? With an impatient movement of the head, he dis l missed the unwelcome doubt and taking the
 picture from the easel, turned it with it's face
 to the wall, then left the room, locking the door and putting the key in hls pocket. If anyone inquiries after my grandson, you
 may say that he is travelling, he told old Ursula briefly; and from that day Bern
 hardl's name was spoken no more in his old
 home.
 The months ment by. Summer waned into autumn, and autumn into winter-a winter of
 the good old-fashioned' type; 1nvigorating to
 the young and healthy, but terrible othe weak, the aged, and the poor.
 One bitter December afternoon, Annette van ElVen and her mother were alone in the little room which now served them as bed and sit-
 tlng-room both, on the first floor of house in
 dull grass grown side-street not far from the
 Cathedral
 Madame van Elven, fair, fragile looking
 woman, who had been beautiful in her youth
 and was still attractive though worn by suf-
 fering, sat in cushioned armchair near the
 stove, while Annette crouched on the hearth,
 her head dropping, her hands idly folded on har in oofl lcflo lo;o snow outside was hardly winter than her 1 cheeks, and her eyes had yelled look that
 made them more pathetic than ever. How quiet you are dear! her companion
 said, breaking long silence; are you
 asleepT
 No, was thinking she answered with an
 effort. l was wondering what sort of Christ
 mas Bernhardt would have in Rome' "A pleasant one, no doubt. Pleasanter than
 ours will be. Poverty weighs lightly on him:
 it is all part of the romance of his artist life
 But with us it is bitter reality she added with
 slgn: Annette did not reply, but her face
 grew if possible sadder than before
 Did M. Lebrun pay you for the piece of
 lace you took to him this morning, dear ?
 asked Madame van Elven after pause No; he-I shall have to go again. Annette l answered, hesitatingly. > She dared not tell her mother the truth
 namely. that the tradesman had declined her
 work, as too imperfect for sale What she
 had long dreaded had come to pass her
 sight would no longer serve for her employ
 ment.
 You are tired I can tell by yonr voice, ,
 her companion said tenderly, and putting out
 her hand, she drew the girl to her side.
 Annette let her head sink on her mothers
 knee, and closed her eyes with deep, long
 drawn sigh. Yes, she was tired so tired that she almost felt as if it would be happiness to
 sleep and never wake again; to give up alto- gether the weary struggle that grew harder every day.
 They were sitting in the same position when. ten minutes later, an unfamiliar step sounded on the stairs, and there was tap at the door. Annette rose smoothing her dis ordered hair, and opened it. A stranger stood there; comedy old woman, in the picturesuue costume of Liegeose.
 'Mademoiselle Annette van Elven p she said interrogatively, and when the latter as
 sented, handed her letter adding; I have
 had some trouble to find you Mam'selle. My
 master said was to wait for and answer Is your master M. Lebtun?' Annette in- qured.
 No; M. Vanderhaven,' the old servant re. piled, glancing shrewdly at her face. The girl started, turning from white to red.
 Recovering from her surprise, however, she
 placed chair for her visitor lighted the lamp and then, returning to her mothers side, read
 the note aloud 'MADEMoIsELLE. E.-I wish to see you. but am
 prevented by illness from calling upon you.
 Will you do me the favor to return with my
 servant? shell not detain you long. -<- Yours,
 NICHOLAS VANDERHAvEN.'
 I suppose he is anxious to have news of
 Bernhardt, was her .lothers whispered con-
 ment. You will go, dear ? Yes Annette asssnted. Has M. Wander.
 haven been long ill? she asked Ursula, as she put on her hat and jacket.
 All the winter, on and of it began with 8
 bad cold. But he has never been quite the
 same since M. Bernhardt went away An
 nette said no more, and they presently left the
 house together. Please to come upstairs, her companion said, when they were admitted to the old
 Guild house and she led the way up the
 broad, oak staircase to the banquet-room It
 was furnished now great wood fire burned
 on the wide hearth, and Japanese screen
 shut out the draught. Monsieur Wander
 haven was seated near the fire in gray dress ing gown and velvet cap. When his visitor
 entered he gave her scrutinizing glance un-
 der his heavy brows, and bowed, but did not
 rise. as he motioned her to seat. ?. "t 'Mademoiselle van Eiven, he began when
 they were alone I believe you are in cores
 pondence with my grandson? !? Yes, Monsieur she answered quietly,
 though her heart was f1uttering. i have heard from him frequently since he left home.
 Since you sent him away, he corrected :;
 1t was by your advice, I believe, that he went? .f~tfl s... E7 s... .,l. .e 2 l advised him, as thought for the best, and have reason to believe that was right. lie tells me that he is making rapid progress, and that bis pictures have already attracted attention, believe there is brilliant future before him.
 'Humph we shall see, was the remark.
 Be kind enough to give me his address It may be necessary for me to write to him, , and he pushed the inkstand toward, her., s..,,'. She took up the pen, but there seemed to be 0 mic tpnf> fk r..