Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1885-08-19

the art-gallery? She was not without a
suspicion of diplomatic fineness on my
part, but before my long story was done
she believed she had found an ancestor in
the Grande Signora.
She must see Tiepolo's portrait. We
went into the art-gallery and found it
without difficulty. The warmth of the
meeting was entirely on Miss Parsons
part. I was devoutly thankful nothing
could be offered by the other party save
the naughty unrecognizing stare; the stern
denial of the presumptuous claim. But
the resemblance was plain enough, allow
ing the Venetian wine and suspicion of
pseudophia.
81 certainly feel thrill Of consanguini-
ty," said Miss Parsons, under her breath,
as she stood like statue beneath the ami
hilating eyes. "But then you are not sure
her name was Pesaro? and that is Parsons
after all" My smattering of philogy here
came in play. Parsons was undoubtedly
Pesaro anglacized. I assured her that dy-
nasties had rested on similar foundations,
and described to the best of my ability the
grand Pesaro palace, which, having never
seen, trusted my imagination to glorify,
and the fact that the palace had been the
wedding-gift to Queen of Cyprus hun
dreds Of years before. dwelt upon its
objectionable conversion into pawnbrok-
er's quarter, and a savings.bank for the
poor. The proof given her already of her
relationship to the Grande Signora was su-
perior to all materialistic testimony to the
contrary. We must not allow skepticism
to trespass into the realm from which this
revelation came. Aristocratic lineage was
more than beauty. Let the quest of two
1c ho dod X Do
as the lineal descendant of the Grande
Signora, made full restitution for all that
old lady's misdeeds in the package of gov
ernment bonds she transferred to the bride
of charming wedding last Christmas Eve.
She was only sorry that the clang of the
old knocker might not precede and follow
the wedding march.
And why didn't it? That is the mystery
past finding out.
/ had the den to myself that night and
went to bed early to escape my own compa-
ny. The old knocker had been fastened
down again. I was dreaming. I heard it
tolling like a funeral knell. Then the
GraEde Signora came through the door
without opening it, and looking contemptu-
ously around discovered the last of my We
nitian wine-the half glass, perhaps, left in
the bottle. She drank it, of course. shifted
as if chilled through, and passed out as she
came in.
"Why do you not call me oftenerP" she
said to the knocker; 81 will always come"
Then in my dream l wrenched the brazen
tongue from the door, and a moment later
was leaning over the parapet of a high
bridge, that leering griffins head, parting
the ice below. What clang it gave when
it went under, and in my dream the police
man who questioned me suspiciouly was
the Grande Signora, and the bridge the Ri
alto-and the brewery overtopping the
bank, the palace of the Dorges, and much
more phantasmal nonsense was anything
but dream.
The first thing did after waking that
morning of Rye's wedding day was to look
out and see if the old knocker was gone. 1
almost knew it would be, and so it was
Rye believes that the college boys. whose
societyIroom was on the hall, made off with
the old knocker. There was an outbreak
of Venitian literature in the class not long
after, and the Venetian pictures in the art
gallery were thoroughly studied. One of
the Sophomores perpetrated a lampoon up
on the Grande Signora, nothing so very bad,
but Rye saw a thrilling coincidence in what
befell the young fellow soon after, when he
was drowned while skating on the Erie
Cdnalazzo, singing that very lampoon.
We have never looked for the old knock
er; we don't care to find it. Pseudopia is a
serious malady. With the loss of the an
cient relic the victims are well rid of seeing
what is inexplainable. With all due defer
ence to Tiepolo's aristocratic matron, and
the portrait hanging over Rye's hearth
stone, which nobody recognizes, he is
thankful to lose the dread of an unlimited
guest at his Christmas feasts, and to be
spared the company of ''our great aunt, the
Grande Signora."