Wheeling register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1878-1935, 1885-03-28
THE MYSTERIOUS PORTRAIT.
RY SYLVESTER SYKES.

In a small but handsomely furnished sit
ting room in a hotel in New York a young
lady was sitting in an easy chair before 6
blazing tire one reary November afternoon
At last the door opened and a tall aristo
cratic Young man entered the room,
Harry. what a long time you have been!'
she cried, springing up from her seat
What news have YOU brought? What does
your father say about our-our marrlayeY
hesita.ing at The last word.
Read for yourself, Helen replied hel
husband, handing her on open letter, and
leaning opposite to her against the manteI
piece, he watched her as she read:
In marrying as you have done you have
acted in direct opposition to my wishes.
From this day you are no longer my son,
and | wash my hands Of you forever.
Harry, why did you not tell me o. tn s
before. exclaimed Helen, as she read the
cold, cruel words, looking up through her
tears into her husbands face.
MY darling, what was there to tell?
How could | know my father would act in
this hard. hearted manner? But. my love,
he continued more seriously, there is an
end Of our shopping excursion into Broad
wav. You will have to do without dia
monds, now that your husband is a peuni-
less outcast instead Of the heir to twenty
thousand a year
Hush, Harry; don't talk like that" she
said, worried at his bitter tone. You
know that it was not Of diamonds OF dresses
that | was thinking. But what are you
going to do?' laying her hand on his arm
and looking Up sadly into his pale, sad face.
You cannot work fora living"
And why not work for q living? he ex-
claimed in a determined voice. Because
| happen to be q m~illionaire's son, brought
10 without any knowledge OF business? But
will work for my living and show my wife
that I am not unworthy of the confidence
she placed in me- and he stopped and
kissed her softly. q,
It was while pursuing his studies in oil
painting that Harry Msrstou wooed aud
won Helen Tracy, a governess in an Eng
Ish family, and the orphan daughter OF an
officer in the army.
Their new home, consisting Of three
rooms in a house on a dirty East Side street,
was very different from the grand old man
sion where he had hoped to take his brt9e,
lint he set to work cheerfully at his taVo1ie
art and tried hard to earn . living BY paint
inc portraits. This he found very soon was
by no means an easy m after.
AT last, one dresry afternoon when Harry
MAS s,r;ing in the dreary little room he
called his studio, irving to devise some
scheme TO repleuish his slender purse, the
servan, ushered in a white haired man.
Placing a chair by Tie ire tor his visitor
Harry inquired his business.
You SIRE a portrait painter, l believe,
ar" said the old gentleman. looking al him
through his gCld.rinmed s~Peetacles.
THAT is my profession, sir, said HAIRY
delighted at the thought OF having found a
commission at last. -.
We'll air. | want you to paint the portrait
of my daughter.
with pleasure, sir" said Harry, eagerly.
When can the lady give me the hrst SIT
ting ,hA.s
twenty years, and / killed her: DroSe her
heart with nv sel6shness and cruelty eX,
claimed the old man in . trembling excited
voice. ,bo
idea that his visitor. might De an escaPeo
Ippetic crossed his mind.
Mastering his emotion at last the stranger
said: m.:,
- 20 Won. NV daughter is dead want
Won n psint her portrait from my descrip'
ION, as I perfectly well remember hert"enty
!eS ST wiiI do my best. sir, but it ID BY nc
uoo,s an easy task, and you must be pre-
I'D for nv disapPointments," safi harry
Then having given q minute Description o
the long lost daughter the Old man rose u
depart. oos,.D,Iv =,
AZ Oortrait of the dead girl, making sketch
sSar sketch, each of which was rejected D.
sLS ,emorse stricken father, until the vori
Segan TO possess q singular fascination Z
him. and he sketched face after lace q
A. last one evening, wesried with a da.
or f%rn;,less exertion, he was sitting over tn
sc watehing his wife, who vas ousy VIII,
some dainty n~eedlework, when sn 'dea SUI
denly flashed upon him. a.,
@TaTI fair, with golden hair and daIk oiu
.,s.r WHY, Helen, it is the very picture
1UrsalfD he cried, starting to his feet az
49, his Uite's sweet face between a
90 bands. Without losing . moTen. =
sst down and commenced to sketch heten
ssss and when his patron called inc ne ~
lses he Was 80 busily engaged 10 pa