Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1882-05-26


these letters / had one from Mrs. Clark, men
tioning that Lucy had been ordered TO leave
England for time, and that hence l must
not expect any more letters until she and Lu-
cy returned home, for that during their ab-
sence her time would be fully occupied. She
wrote very kindly, but felt sure that the
reason for her not writing to me again was
that Mr.. Clark objected to my knowing that
Lucy was to be in Italy.
How dreary that winter was, in spite of all
the golden dreams of YOUTH fostered by all
the poetical and romantic teachings of ma
ture, art and history, with which the very
air of Italy is electric
1 became so restless that in the spring
left Rome for Florence. 1 had never cop
led in the galleries there, and thought 1t
would be q new source Of interest to me TO
do so.
One day was seated in front Of that beau
tiful portrait Of Caterina Cornaro. do not
know il you have seen it. sweet sod face
and graceful figure, the bodice of the dress
embroidered with gold and jewels, and the
neck loaded with chains of pearls magnif-
cent fetters laid on their fair owner by the
Venitian Republic when the Senate sold her
beauty to the King of Cyprus, leaving her
noble lover young Lorendano TO die raving.
was copying this picture, and was greatly
interested ia my work. Many persons pass
ed through the room, and some paused 10
look at my painting so that took little no.
tice Of the fact that some one was standing
behind me, until l heard my name pro-
nounced in a never forgotten voice.
1t was Lucy, and alone She was taller and
more womanly than when left her, but the
same Lucy still.
She told me that she and her mother were
in Florence, waiting for her father to join
them that she had spent the winter in Sici-
ly, and that her health was better, but that
her mothers health was failing rapidly.
She said that Mrs. Clark was in an adjoin-
ing room resting, and that l must go TO see
her. There was calm power about her man.
ner that surprised me, but she had lost none
of her sweetness.
Before we turned from the picture was
copying she asked me whose portrait it was.
told her, and she said:
$50 that is the face of the woman who let
herself be bought and sold by king and a
Senate, and not only herself but the man
who loved her, and for whom she cared, too,
in some pitiful sort Of way She could not
have loved him, or she would have taught
those naughty Senators that there was some
thing prouder and stronger than even their
pride"
Mrs. Clark received me with tears Of Joy.
l could see that she was very much broken,
and that she was completely under her
daughters dominion, although Lucy used
her power gently. She did not ask me to go
to see them, but she said she would often
come to see me at my work. and she made
some weak little excuse for not inviting me
to their hotel.
After that saw her and Lucy every day at
the gallery, and Lucy often managed to be
alone with me. We never spoke of our mu-
tual affection, bu. we felt it, and words were
not needed between us, even to explain why
we did not speak Of it. We lived in an at
mosphere of our own. We knew that our
happiness could not last long, but this only
intensified our appreciation of 1t and render
ed each moment of it doubly precious, while
a concentration Of thought, feeling, and of
the expression of both grew out Of our con-
viction. 1t seemed as If years of intimate
knowledge of each other must be and were
compressed in those few weeks.
One day was sitting at my easel, when a
woman approached me and gave me a letter.
1t was from Lucy She told me that her faith
er had arrived and that she was to leave Flor
ence at once. She told me that her mother
was too feeble for her TO be able to venture
upon any assertion Of her own wishes as to
corresponding with me, for that if her father
knew that she had been permitted TO meet
me constantly his anger would be excessive.
She said that might write to her once, and
givo the letter to the wife of the porter Of
the hotel where she was staying
did 80. poured out my soul in that let
ter and she sent me an answer, which goi
after she had left Florence. l have got II
still in all my wanderings it has never left
me. Yet it told me that there was no hope
only that she would be forever faithful to me
and called on me to trust her through alb
sence and silence.
Ny energy tagged, but whipped mysel
up. l determined TO be worthy Of her, ant
| hoped that perhaps 1 might win her but sill
months after this my father died suddenly,
and reeled under the blow. lost not only
| him, but tho last chance of hearing anything
| of Lucy for, since our meeting at Florence,
| Mrs. Clark had ceased altogether to write Il
| me.
My student days were past, aud the sum ol
money Mr.. Clark had generously given me
was expended but 1 had small fortune
left to me by my father, quite enough for M
to feel independent.
II is hard to work at art at all successful,
when ones brain is in constant need of urg
ing TO do its best In the excitement whicl
follows any great shock which, while shatter
ing an actual happiness, yet appeals strongl
TO the Imagination, a mind deeply imbuet
with artistic feeling is likely to find its pow
ers abnormally increased; but reaction il
only too likely 10 set in when the imagina
tion has to be excited by the will, aud i
most artistic temperaments the will is no
particularly strong except when it acts spas
medically
found all originality of design pAssin
fro me no picture worth reproducing ros
before my mental vision, and my YER
power OF execution seemed failing. M
health too, began to give way. just then
read q glowing account of the Kimberly dia
mond fields. In a fit of mingled hopefulness
restlessness and despondency, 1 resolved
try my fortune there. pictured TO mysel
returning to England millionaire or dyin
in some tragic manner.
OF course you know how it all ended.
worked hard, and hoped, aud hoped &c
some small diamonds aud a very severe a
tack of fever. Thon l tried farming, and il
vested my money in a woo!-washing bus
ness, but was not sharp enough looking al
ter the agreement as to the supply of watt
that was to be allowed to me from the litu
river which ran through my farm, and, afts
the deeds were signed, the man bought
of sold the right of taking more than half th
water to farmer to whom he sold a propert
higher up. went to law and lost my cas-
and great deal of money. Then / trie
transport riding, and lost heavily again, oV
ing to various diseases in my oxen.
don't mean to blame my luck, as man
men do To a great extent man makes h
own luck, so that each misfortune whic
struck me disappointed me more and mo-
with myself.
Then came the finishing blow. I eau
across an old English newspaper, and in it
saw tue advertisement of Lucy's marriag
or, should say, the announcement of h
: impending marriage. 1t was to be graz
? affair, and there were great many derail
! After thar / went down steadily. am spea
ing too openly to deny that 1 often help
, myself on the downward journey, when
ought to have known better. Yet have ne
: or parted with her letter, nor with the bell
that though her seeming faith may be Civ
to another, her true faith is mine and mi
! alone forever, as she wrote.
4 Having finished these words, Frank Heat
oota stood nm waarilV | took his hand Al