The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1882-04-13

sent in He had heard of Mr.. Stuart;
! he had seen some of his work and dindeed
had purchased little scene, 'The Spent
| Wave" if Mr.. Stuart remembered it.
And as Raphae's solor rose something
about him seemed to interest the Secre-
tary more, for he read the letter again
and asked him for his other papers.
"They are very strong" he said, and
it is very unfortunate. l have all but
promised the consulship to MIR. Tiernay,
who has just left me. Perhaps you saw
him pass out; he looks like an italian
brigand and there seems something fit
ting and appropriate in designating him
for the post" said the Secretary laugh
ing, for he knew how to fill disagreeable
pauscs with light words. "Well, WE'LL"
he said, 81 shall regret it very much if 1
cannot be of service to you. Depend
upon it / shall try. / am sorry to
have so far committed myself. Perhaps
something can be done although I am
doubtful Are you in the city long?
Where are you staying? Can you dine
with me tonight? My wife and daugh-
ters will be pleased. A few pleasant
people. Sharp seven. Good-morning. :"
And before Raphael recovered himself
the plausible Secretary had bowed him
out and admitted the next, and he was
standing with Il dazcd air among the
ruins of his hopes, the face of the Italian
brigand, whom he now remembered to
have seen, dominating the ruins like
that of an evil genius.
But he was not of the sort easily cast
down. After Il couple of hours he was
on his feet again, full OF pluck and pur-
pose, investigating the art of the Capt.
| tol, and few minutes before seven he
was at the Secretary's door, admitted by
the stately black porter, making his best
! b0T to Mrs. Secretary, and if not con-
scious that Miss Secretary was regard
ing him with an auspicious eye, quite
conscious that she looked like one of the
sweetest and best-natured young women
| in the world and one to whom, before
J the dinner was announced to which he
! led her out, he felt like contiding both
| his Joys and SORROWS.
| What troubled him was that before he
! had been five minutes in the drawing
room he had seen the Italian brigand
| talking with a famous general and look
ing as though he were taking his points
SO as to be ready for the next ambush,
and that now he was placed on the 9TH
| er side of the table but a few seats dis
tant.
The dinner went on quite as usual,
when suddenly there was a lull in the
conversation, which had been turned by
the Secretary to the subject of modern
literature, and Mr.. Tiernay's voice was
heard quite distinctly saying to the Sec
retary as he bent slightly forward, 'Oh,
| assure you, my dear sir, there is no
one better qualified than l to speak of
The Song of the Morning Stars since
| wrote it, as l may say" And then as
Raphael tossed back his hair like one
preparing to offer battle, he added:
THAT is to say, Miss Wildrose and
wrote it together, and rewrote it. l
think there is not single stanza in which
| our Joint work is not to be found. The
idea of the opening chorus is her own,
and the work mine. | myself suggested
the refrain of the Wandering Stars, and
she worked that up
''And the Cloud of Comets?' asked
the Secretary.
"Oh, that is mine, too; and so was the
Earth's recitative in the Region of Mete-
efs, all mine But her delicate touches
| gave it grace not within the power of
a amasculine pen. Miss Wildrose's grace
81 beg pardon. Are you speaking of
| Miss Wildrose?'' said the Secretary's s
| daughter, as Raphael sat aghast and ut
terly incapable of using her name in this
scene.
"OfMiss Wildrose@' said Mr.. Tiernay
''Oh, certainly"
''And do you really know her?''
Like a sister," said the Brigand.
ssBetter than a sister. ! might add, since
we have worked for our name and our
fame together"
''How | should like to see her! Do you
suppose she will ever come to Washing
tQn?"
''Ah, it is unlikely. The poet is too
sensitive for contact with practical
things, you know"
s.Then you must tel me of her, Isshe
pretty? Is she pleasing?'
Pleasing, yes. Ii can hardly speak
of her SO openly, you must believe me.
She is perhaps ones idea OF Sappho"-
eyes. Large?'
superb moulding"
t'Blue eyeSP'
Gas violels.'
"Then | hope her hair is black"
GAS black as night
'Every one has such different idea
of Sappho,'' said Miss Secretary. ''Now
to me Sappho looks like Story's Cleopa-
ira. And by the way, papa, do you
know that Mr. Gould's Ghost of Ham
let's Father is to be seen in Boston? l
could take the journey there to see it!
He is the Shelley of sculptors." And
then the Secretary took up the tale, and
his daughter bent her head over her lit
satin n1enu and whispered to Raphael, II
thought you said you were engaged to
marry Miss Wildrose?"
$50 did"
"Why then didn't you announce your
self Just nOw?"
Drag her name before dinner ta-
blc?''
81 believe in your she said earnestly
''Have you her picture? Pray let me see
it?''
She looked at it and passed it to her
next neighbor cit looks more like q
New England maiden than like aqueen's
daughter" she said rs she did so.
''Oh, is this the new princess? cried
the lady into whose hands it came direct
ly afterward, and it presently reached
the Secretary. 1t was a miniature that
Raphael himself had painted
"'EyeS dar k as pansles III the front OF
March, said the Secretary. ''Those close
braids of fair hair contrast well. Quito
a petite young woman. You spoke q
seeing the princess when you were last
abroad, Mr.. Ticrnay. This is quite un-
like the picture in the illustrated news
papers. Tell me if it is a good likeness" "
And the little picture passed from hand
to hand, under glance by glance, to Mr..
Tiernay.
Il really am unable to answer" said
the Brigand. 'They are such a swarm.
This must be new one, for l don't
recollect seeing her. No, the face is
quite unfamiliar. l have never seen it. "
''Is it good likeness, Mr.. Stuart?''
asked the Secretary's daughter, in a
voice like a bell, regardless as to whether
she violated any sanctities of hospitality
or not.
..It is called so,'' said Raphael.
at is the picture of Miss Wildrose,
cried the young lady ir the same clear
treble, as her mother, to avoid the fiaSco
she saw coming, rose from the table.
And if there is any happiness in sea-
sickness MIR. and Mrs. Raphael Stuart,
Al. F,x>