Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1885-08-19
"oUR AUNT, THE GRANDE sIGNORA.'
BY JENNIE MARSH PARKER.
III.
Concluded from last aceek.)

BY JENNIE MARSH PARKER.
Concluded from last aceek.)
One year from that memorable Christmas
eve and l could thank my stars for the diff
ference between a Venetian palace and a
Palace car on the New York Central. The
train was behind time. 1t was getting on
well in the evening. Rye never dreamed
that had landed in New York the day be.
fore; that was flying to him with the best
part of Norwegian punch in my travelling
bag. We would quaff that before midnight,
that we would, if fate was kind. He had
given up my coming with my last letter OF
course, when I had told him that my duties
as Paris correspondent would not give me
vacation for six months at least-and then
I had obtained leave of absence the day
after mailed the letter. s'You will for
give my breaking my promise to you for
Christmas eve. You can fall back on your
other consultations, old boy" had written.
1t would be our last old bachelor Christ
mas. Pipes, punch and songs, goodbye
when the blue-eyed Louise held the sceptre.
1 was dethroned, but the old chair of au-
thority in that smoky studio must be mine
for one more Christmas eve. "According
to the law Of my life,' he had written, in
his last letter to me, (Which, as you know,
has been governed by remarkable coincid-
ences, bordering on the supernatural, that
portrait you wrote about has turned up
here in the Art Gallery. The very day
put the old knocker on my studio door that
very picture was hung up in the Art Gal
lery. Not soul knows the relationship
between my dragon and Tiepolo's. The
knocker is still bound down by the wire the
friar made so secure. You are to set the
brazen tongue going. Together we will
face the consequences. When I hear that
clang you will be at my gate, and if the
Grande Signora comes after you we will
give her recent lecture by Miss Anthony
as momentary distraction.
81 have my suspicious of the Signora and
propose hiding behind the orchestrion in the
Art Gallery, some night until the place is
dark and deserted. I'll wager you anything
she will be gliding about in that stiff, blue
silk, with "Judith bearing the head of Hol-
firnes" to keep her company. She had bet
ter not waste her reprimand on the 'Fa-
vorite of the Pasha," even if the gossiping
girls in 'sThe Venetian Tailor's Work shop"
feel honored by her naughty glance as she
passes on the pictures of her own private
rest. was watching her the other evening
when the orchestrion struck up the "Miser-
ere" from Trovatore, and, George, if you'll
believe it, saw wonderful resemblance
to my beautiful Louise come out on the old
lady's face, and since then I have kept out
of the gallery. I may as well tell
you the whole of it now have begun. Did
you ever hear of a malady called pseudopia?
Scientific unbelievers say that pseudopia
was the cause of the visions of old, the Wis
ions of Swedenborg, and all the rest
mental or subjective visions-disorder of
the inter cranial apparatus, brain fatigue
bodily Observation-Disclosures cerebral pro-
cesses-seeing independent of the eye-an
automatic sense Of the brain, pray do you
now understand? Well, l have pseudopia.
You are the only living soul that knows it.
How do I know I have it? The Grande
Signora' looks like Miss Parsons, my future
guardian-in-law-more and more like her
every day, and my Louise looks like them
both, and yet she is the loveliest creature in
the world. l don't mention this illusion to
Louise. She don't take the slightest inter-
est in the old portrait. Ofcourse have not
told her the friar's story. She would SIM
ply make me throw away the knocker. I
think my trouble has been caused by the
portrait am painting of Miss Parsons
What pretended to see have found with
a vengeance. Do you know some days 1
see that resemblance in every face I meet
The picture must be done for surprise to
Louise next Christmas morning. That it
will be surprise am confident" y =
Twas half-dozing to the tune of the car
wheels, when a party came bustling aboard
the train, near my journeys end. hardly
looked out from my muffler when l made
room for one Of the three ladies in my seat
Thereupon the tall stout woman 1 had ac-
commodated, succeeded, after considerable
noisy engineering, in transferring two gen.
tlemen slumbering before me to the other
end of the car, demanding their seat i'm
periously for the two ladies under her wing.
I had hardly looked at the invaders, was
scarcely awake, but there was no sleeping
after the hoarse aggressive voice beside me
had the better of the engine and the rough
grade. 1 cautiously peeped out from my
muffler one of the ladies before me was
the submissive listener the other, evident
ly, in spite of her thick veil, was a beauti-
full young girl, trying not to hear what was
distinctly heard by everyone. The old
erly woman, who listened to all she said so
obsequously, was watching me at the same
time through her blue glasses. She was
either a very venerable girl or very
girlish spinster. Long blonde wiglike
curls pallad, haggard face we'll powder.
ed thin, long, ungloved hand; nervous
cough thin lips tightly compressed.
Where had seen the old lady's striking
face-before? Upon my soul it was the
Grande Signora. There was no mistaking
that nose and jowl.
s'You need not think me dupe because
1 have taken you with me this time, for
there are other mediums who promise more
than you, even. l have had enough of
promises and moonshine. If you fail me
now, shall denounce you publicly. The
young girl moved uneasily; the little gloved
hands gave nervous start at the heighten-
ed accentuation, and then lay in forced
passivity upon the dainty muf.
"If you fail me at headquarters, where
this masquerade of mediums began, shall
believe have no kindred in this world in
spite of your communications. I will
trust nothing now but the knockings-the
genuine old-fashioned raps. If I cannot
get them in Rochester where they began
and on the very spot, if possible, where
they were first heard. then I have no more
to ask of any of you."
The Grande Signora settled back in her
furs and looked fxedly ahead. What old
portrait it was-the very counterpart.
The mediums mouth indicated that she
was speaking, but not word could be
heard for sometime for the prolonged up
roar of passing train. But she talked on
just the same, and in due time 1 caught
something about inspirational localities
hot bed of reformatory
impulsions ~ ism germs pivotal
point \ unseen spiritual concentra-
tion \ n knock, knock, knockity knock,
rang in the flying wheels and was I awake
or dreaming? The Grande canal was I'M
usally noisy oh, yes the steam tugs had
been introduced, and the Grande Signora
had dropped her scaldino, and Father
Pietro was shouting "apples %
"Louise -
eyes, Aunt Ferris"
The sweet voice fully aroused me.
''Does he know you are coming to-
night? ?'
I could not hear her answer. She rose
in her seat and put her lips close to the old
adv'c