Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1884-02-24

friends.''
Her eyes softened and shone as she
| clasped her hands passionately together.
Nevertheless, you might do worse
than marry Lord NettlecOmbe," her Sis
| ter-in-law said, coldly. "As his wife you
would have tht entree of the best houses,
and wipe out the memory of your former
messalliance. A degradation like that
was all very well once, for money; but
for love !-Pah! Alicia tells me this OBJ
scure painter is handsome and well-bred,
as well as talented. You are sure no ten
dresse for him stands in Lord Nettle-
| cOmbe's way? No; don't turn away from
me, or | shall believe have guessed
rightlyl"
/ The victim, brought to bay, raised her
/ head and boldly faced her questioner.
"And if your suspicion were correct,
! Lucy, what thenY
Mrs. Mohun dropped her sister-in-law's
/ hands as though they had been singing
nettles.
"What, then! You, Giselal a MOhun
can ask me what then? Simply that you
would drop out of our lives as though you
| had never existed We have tolerated
! Crewes, vulgar Crewes, OVer-dresSed
/ CTewes. Crewes with no single aspira-
tions in the shape of an H. (YOur first
| descent in the social scale had its rdiSOR
| d'etre). But the wife of struggling
| artist, a ClIyel a nobody! Come, Gisela,
! go to bed and think better of Lord Nettle-
combe's offer, like a sensible woman. You
! and Alicia Warner live here in your Seclu-
sion until you become quite romantic and
| tete nlOHtee."
Mrs. Mohun drove away next morning
before Gives arrival in the studio, trust
ing her words had made some impress on
upon her young kinswoman. Combe-
! hurst was a pleasant house to visit. Any
imbrogliO which involved its mistress So
! cial Ostracism would be distinctly incon-
venient.
AS for Lady Crewe, she breathed more
/ freely after her guests departure, and the
recollection of her wOrldly-wise counsel
! vanished with her bodily presence.
Meantime the portrait approached COM
! pletiOn. The artist fingered over his
work as though he loved it, but excuse
/ for prolonging his task further was failing
! him. There came a day when he prom
| ised himself to put the last finishing
touches on the morrow.
The young mistress of COmbehurst re-
/ tired early that evening, glad to smut her
! door tor once even upon the indulgent
/ petting of her kind old cousin. Once in
! solitude she began pacing the room with
/ head bent and hands clasped, as was her
wont in perpleXed and painful medita-
ton, which yet had its sweetness.
"He loves me; know it, feel it," she
! IuuIuuIeu 10 ueISpl VIII qulCk-COullH8
/ bushes "Every look, every tone, ali
that he says, and still more, all he does
! not say, tells me so unmlstakably. Yet
! he will break both his heart and mine
rather than bend his pride TO speak!
! Genius levels all things. Why should be
| hesitate? Ohl for some spell to unseal
! those proud lips.
! She threw open her window and looked
/ out upon the clear September night. The
/ lights of heaven were glowing and palpi
tatng in their azure dome. A queenly
! Young moon had climb ed to its zeni b, en-
/ circled by its starry train, Illuminating
/ the quiet reaches of the park and the
! wide-spreadng gardens. She inpatient
/ y shut the window again and Grew the
! curtain upon the far-reaching acres, the
/ proud possessions which made an i'm
/ pas able gulf between her and her lover.
1 ''if it were but the other wayw she
/ cried. eff / were only the beggar-maid
/ and he my King COphetua! AS it is,
! there is only one thing can save us both
! from lifelong misery. Can l ever bring
/ myself to such humiliatiOn?"
! The clear night was succeeded by one
/ Of the tranquil, haZy mornings so common
/ in early autumn, when the languid sun
/ seems reluctant to pierce the lingering
/ earth mists. All the brilliance in the
/ studio seemed centred on the easel where
rested the beautiful picture of Lady
]
! artists mother and Miss Warner were
! before it in admiring contemplation, and
| in the background stood the artist him
/ self, turtively comparing his completed
work with the fair original beside him.
Lady CastlewOOd" and her kinsman
/ have made up their quarrel, and she
/ turns taper in hand, to bid 'EEsmOnd"
\ good night. The light of it falls upon her
sweet, fair face and rutfled golden hair,
on the quaint pointed bodice and delicate
4 lace, and plays on the folds OF the gorge
Gus skirt, stiff with richness and dignity.
Il am so sorry the sittings are over;
they have been very pleasant. Even
SNOWFALL has quite enjoyed them," says
Miss Warner, plaintively. Il must get
you to paint pussy's picture, Mr.. Give,
as you are so successful" strOking
as she speaks the biggest and heaviest
of her pets, which she carries in her
arms.
Il shall be most happy if ever oppor-
tUnity offers. Miss Warner; but l intend
leaving COmbehurst this afternoon
80 sOOnn Even for her prde's sake
Lady Crewe could not repress her start Of
surprise and dismay. "Have you eX-
hausted its beauties already, Mr.. CliveF'
She tired to still the trembling of her
pale lips and to put the question careless
THAT would be impossible" he said,
! gravely; "but l have fingered here long
enough. Too long, Perhaps" he muttered
in an undertone.
Lady Crewe turned to Mrs. Give.
Can't you persuade your son to remain
little lOnger-at least TO escort YOU
homeT' she asked, in her pretty pleading
way.
My mother agrees with me, that it is
time for me to be gOne," he answered for
her in his deep, decided tones.
10 n "a o
and the two exchanged glance full Of
/ Significance, which their hostess inter-
cepted. The mothers was Wistful, but
full of loving encouragement; the sons
had a stern remuneration in it which
! said: "HaYe confidence in me- can en-
durel"
''Well, at least we must not lose you
yet, Mrs. Give" said Miss Warner, fill
| ing up the pause with some of the COM
monplace padding which is the inevita BILE
attendant OF every tragedy. 'And now
you are here, do come to my room and let
| me show you thecUsy new nest l have
planned for Snowball-dear intelligent
creature! Only this morning she"
The pOrtiere fell behind the pair as they
retreated along the passage and With
held the particulars of SnOwbal's last
exploit from the two left behind upon
whom an embarrassing silence fell.
At last Lady Crewe crossed the room,
unlocked the drawer of an old bureau and
took from it purse, little embroidered
trife of push and gold, which she handed
to the artist.
"A small acknowledgment of all the
trouble YOU have taken," she said, smil-
ing neryously. 81 only hope this chef
! Peuvre may be the herald OF future sue
cess in your beloved art"
Il trust so, but-Lady CTewe, you
must please take back your gift, and
with it my thanks for your many kind
nesses. | can accept no money for my
work.
He spoke with cold seli-repressiOn and
avoided looking at her as he thrust tue
purse back upon her reluctant hand.
'Mr. Give! What does this mean?"
comfy" he said, hastily, ''that circum-
stances have changed. cannot make this
particular picture a matter Of traffic.
have had the pleasure Of painting it-that
is enoughl"
''Ah! you would prefer your reward in
some other form; Understand"
You mistake me, Lady Crewe," he an
swered. Il want no payment. The only
guerdon l would accept for my labor OF
love is"
eyes? Why do you hesitate? You have
fairly earned any reward it is in my pow
er to give.'
Her breath came thick and fast as she
Ioopod ooaipcf tho yuiudovU oocomppf fa r.