The Dillon tribune., 1885-05-16
traits. This he found very soon was

bV no means an easy matter.
1t was all very we'll when he was the
heir and studied painting merely from
love Of art, but picture dealers. who in
those days had been all t!attery and
obsequiousness, now that he really
wanted to sell the pictures and sketch
es shook their heads and politely but
firmly refused to purchase.
At last. one dreary afternoon when
Harry was sitting in the dreary little
room he called his studio, trying to de-
wise some scheme to repieniSh his
slender purse. the servant ushered in a
white-haired old man.
Placing a chair by the fire for his
visitor Harry inquired his business.
'sYou are a portrait painter. be-
lieve sir?' said the old gentleman.
looking at him through his gold
trimmed spectacles. -,
THAT is my profession. SIR said
Harry, delighted at the thought OF
having found commission ut last.
"Well, sir, l want you to paint the
| portrait of my daughter. -
with pleasure. SIR said Harry,
eagerly. "When can the lady give me
the first sitting?'
"Alas, sir, she is dead-dead to me
these twenty wears, and killed her.
broke her heart with my seltishness
and cruelty" exclaimed the old man
in trembling, excited voice.
A strange chill came over Harry as
the idea that his visitor might be an
escaped lunatic crossed his mind.
Mastering his emotion ut last the
stranger said:
"Pardon me. young sir. This is OF
no interest to you. My daughter is
dead and want you to paint her por-
trait from my description, as perfect
| " well remember her twenty Soars
ago.
II will do my best. sir, but it is by
no means an easy task, and you must
be prepared for many di,appoint-
mcnts,'' said Harry, when having
given u minute description of his long
lost daughter tho old man rose to de-
part.
For weeks he worked necessarily on
the portrait of the dead girl, making
sketch after sketch, cacu of which was
rejected by the remors.- stricken father,
until the work began to possess sim
gular fascination to him and he sketch
cd face after face as under spell.
At last, one e,cning, wearied with a
day OF fruitless excrtion, he was sitting
over tho fire watching his wife, who
was busy with some dainty needle
work, when an idea suddenly flashed
upon him.
''rall, fair, with golden hair and
dark blue eyes! Why, Helen, it is the
very picture of YOURSELF he cried
starting to his feet and tak..4g his
wife's sweet face between his two
hands. Without losing moment he sat
down and commenced to sketch Helen's
face, and when his patron called the
next morning he was SO busily en-
gagged in putting the finishing touches
to the portrait that he did not hear him
enter the room, and worked on for
some moments unconscious of his
presence until with 4 CRY of "Hclen.
my daughter!' the old man hurried
, , him aside and stood cntranced before
the picture.
After gazing for some moments in
, silence only broken by his suppressed
!! sobs, the old man turned to Harry and
asked him in an eager voice where he
.. had obtained tho original Of the
picture.
lit is the portrait of my wife," said
, he.
''Your wife, sir--who was she? Par
don me for asking the question: he
; added; ''but l have heard lately that
my poor Helen left an orphan daugh-
: ter, and for year have becu search
!, ing for her. hoping to atone for the
! wrong did her mother.
!. Harry was beginning to tell him the
story of how he met Helen. when the
: : door opened and his wife entered the
" room.
Perceiying that her husband was en-.
: gagged she was about to retire from the
> room when the old man stopped her re
spcclfully.
), pardon me. madam" he said. "bu,
, would you tell me your mother
: maiden uame?'
- y "Hclcn rrehcrnc." said Harry.
~ wife wondern-ly.
:. II knew itl knew it!' exclaimed
;. the old man in an excited voice. IA
y last have found the child of my long
', lost daughter"
, In few words he explained how he
:. had cast Off his daughter twenty year,
!, aSo for havin" married poor officer
y. and refused even TO open her letters i,
:, =, which she begged forgiveness.
I" ''But. thank heavcn!" he said, whe,
y he had finished his sad story. IL ca,
~ i'll some way atone for my harshncss t,
;, my Helen by taking her Helen to m,
=, heart and making her my daughter.
!" So. after all. Helen became the mis-
!" trcs> of Marston Hall. in the pictur
" gallery of which there is no painting St
!, highly valued rs The Mysterious POI
II trait