Wheeling register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1878-1935, 1882-03-18
MISS WILDROSE.
By HARRIET PRESCOTT sPoFFoRD.

anu tue TeClOT vi the pariSu udu nedTu
portions of 1.-THE Song of the Morning
Stars" before its completion; and when
this was known, and the first poem was
followed by another and yet another
kindred TO it, the dOubters were silenced,
and Miss WildrOse took her place among
the pOets-On the bench with Milton
thought her family and friend; on the
humblest foOtstOOl of all Miss Wildrose
herself thought. She was content to be
the lowest there; only to be in the glori-
Ous. company at all was quite enough
for her.
OF course the work was criticised.
This great critic counted the number of
Saxon derivatives on page, and
hOnOred or dishOnOred her according to
his sum total, and that one weighed her
rhymes in the hair balance under glass
that is senitive to the sound of the fall
ing snowflake, and the other found a
real mares nest of delight i'll lame
foot Ofthe blank verse. But the people
liked the little books, and the popular
acknowledgment was such that Miss
Wildrose's head might have been turned
if herart hadi been less matter of
moment with her, or if just at that time
she had not met Raphael Stuart and
loved him almost on the meeting.
She had always lived in the village.
He came TO her like being not only OF
the outside world of art in which her
dreams and fancicS lay. For he was
painter of more than common promise,
if not yet of absolute performance, and
if poor rs the traditional painter Is, yet
with too much love of the colorS and
harmOnies and shapes ofnature that be-
long to all who can see them, to sigh for
those heavier luXurieS that belong only
To the few. In time he would like them,
too, but lust now he had youth, art and
love. What more could he wish?
Like most young artists, Europe was
his goal, if ever he could sell enough
sketches to warrant his departure. And
now, since coming TO the village, he
had doubted the distance between him
and his goal; for was he going without
Miss WildrOse? And i'll order TO take
a wife with him he w0uld have to make
twice as many sales as he had counted
on before. Miss WildrOse's little income
from her books would not go u great
way in their mutual purse, for the sale
of the best liked verses Is not mlrac-
ulOus draught, and she had really worn
out various copies of her books III the
service of borrowers, not buyers. More
over, as Mrs. Stewart, she could h2rdly
make her way with the same expense
less simplicity rs when only Miss w I'D
rose. Plainly old age was likely 10
creep upon them both before they could
venture to let their lives become one
and make their visions OF those OLD
streets and galleries, those summer
seas and glacier tops, thing OF real
life.
This, however did not seem so sad
thing to Miss Wildrose as it did to Ra-
phael. She could go on singing her
songs in the little village as long as her
heart and soul were in sympathy with
the great strain that nature sings, and
here was Raphael all day and every day
besides her. But it troubled her at
length a little to see his unrest. Per
haps she caught the unrest herself. her
work felt the trouble; and for time
she feared she had lost the secret word
Other power; she began to be as eager as
he for the impossible.
al want my outlook opened ne
cried, searching the blue sky with ms
bluer ewes. ~ want to see for myself
how Raphael turned this line, how
Veronese blended those tints; how
Rembrandt flung that shadow. l want
to know what they mean by so turner
made color do the work of drawing, L
want to see the great masters OF to-day
in their studios of afield. l want to see
Venice before some accused STEAMBOATS,
rips up their looking glasses" =.
IL want to see the Euganean hlllS,"
said Miss Wildrose, casting her glance
dreamily along the flat country where
never hill was seen.
"And | want my home, my wife, my
hearth" he said, and then for little
time the lovers happiness seemed only
a high value of their art. :,
sIf YOU couldonly besent to Europe"
said she at last. fyou could be con-
sui in some foreign town in France or
Italy, or in the east, or in the north OIL
Africa"
"IfI could go aboard and be paid for
| it," he said, laughing. "Ah, yes,
could have the moon for my lanternw
"But ii is not impossible" she
answered with Frightening smile.
| Now, | consider it not at all Impossible.
! really think it may be e0mpasSed.
Oh, Raj hael, lift only should"
IL am afraid you are building castles
and the scattolding is in the Clouds he
said.
"I.isten, then. Isn't the new Secre-
tary of State man Of Letters? Hand-in-
glove with publishers and authors" A
patrOnof painters, too"
A regular Mpcenas! My darling, your
wits are as bright as your eyes. Take
me for a clOdI | see it all now, you have
Illuminated it. Yes, yes, good case
ought to be made out between my
credentials and yours"
ooh, shouldn't want to figure IN II"
she murmured shrinkingly.
"Then you shall not. My little wife
shall stay on the dark side ofthe room
till she wakes up and finds herself in a
gondola, some sunset, with the moon III
the lagOOns." !,
And il is not a month before, armed
with all sufficient papers as he deemed,
! Raphael Stuart was waiting in the
/ Secretary'S ante-roOm so confident OF
| success that he was already canvaSSing
/ in his own mind the merits of the OppoS-
/ ing ocean lines, the best place for his
| wife's state-room, and whether or not
he would be able to get any sketch of
weltering waters or bits of sail or
shipping or sea birds on the way.
He had plenty of time to think it over
as the hours went by before he was
called into the great mans presence.
The Consulship to Venice? All, that
was pity! He should be very sorry to
he obliged to refuse request Of his
friend the writer of the letter Mr.. Stuart
hadSent in. He had heard of Mr.. Stuart;
he had seen some of his work and in
deed had purchased q little scene. 1.-THE
Spent Wave" if Mr.. Stuart remember
it. And as Raphaeps color rose some
thing about him seemed to interest the
Secretary more, for he read the letter
| again and asked him for his other IA.