The Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1877-1885, 1885-08-22
COME ASHORE"
BY ROBERT BUCHANAN.
CONTINUED
CHAPTER VI.
ALSO CONCLUDES WITH A KISS.

had carefully placed beside her bed. They
were gone, and in their place lay the habili-
ments she was accustomed to wear on her
erratic pilgrimages every day.
Her face grew cloudy she hunted all around
the chamber, but finding nothing that she
sought she was compelled to array herself as
best she could.
civilian JONES'" she said, when she sat
with that worthy at a hermit's breakfast Of
dry bread and whey, ''where's my Sunday
clothesn
William Jones fidgeted bit, then he said:
They're put where you won't find 'em.
Look We now, Matt, you'd best he after dom
summat useful than runnin' about after
painter chap. was down on the shore this
morning, and l seen heaps q wood-you'd
best get some of it afore nightp
Matt gave a snort, but said nothing. A
few minutes later her benign protector left
the cottage, and a little after he had disap-
peared Matt issued forth; but instead OF
beating the shore for firewood, as she had
been told to do, she nan across the fields to
the painter.
She found him already established at his
work. The fact was he had been for some
time stroling about with his hands in his
pockets and scanning the prospect on every
side for sight of her Having got tired of
this characteristic occupation, he at length
sat down and began to put a few touches to
the portrait. Seeing that he was unconscious
of her approach, Matt erept up quietly be-
hind him and took a peep at the picture.
Her black eyes dilated with pleasure.
ooh, amt it beautiful" she exclaimed
$50 you have come at last" said Briukley
quietly, going on with his painting.
She made no movement and no further
SQUAD; so ne continued:
perhaps, now You hare come you'l be
good enough to step round that l may con-
tinue my work. am longing to refresh my
| memory with a sight Of your face Matt'
"Well, you can't said Matt; they're
locked upl"
"Eh-whats locked up-my memory or
| your faceF
1t was clear Matt could not appreciate ban
| ter. She saw him smile, and guessed he was
laughing at her, and her face grew black and
mutinous She would have skunk off but his
| yoica stopped her.
Come here, Matt" he said Don't lie
| silly, child; tell me what's the matter, and
why, what has become of your Respondent
raiment-your gorgeous Sunday clothes"
| 'Didnt tell youF-they'rp locked up"
| "IndeedF
| eyes, William Jones done it cause he told
him. He don't want me to come here and Ii
| took"
'Ohl Tell You what 1t is, Matt, we vii
have our own way in spite of them. For the
| present this picture shall lie put aside If in
day or 50 You can again don your Sunday
raimeut, and sit to me again in them-i
not, dare say shall he able to finish the
dress from memory. That portrait | shall
| give 10 YOU. In the meantime, as | want on,
for myself, will paint you as you are. d,
| you approve"
Matt nodded her head vigorously
Every we'll - said Brinkley. Then we vii
get GA"
He removed from his easel and carefully
covered the portrait upon which he hal beeI
working. Then he put up fresh cardboard
and sat down, inviting Matt tn do the same
| With the disappearance of the SUNDAY
clothes the girls stiffness seemed TO have dis
appeared also, and she became again a yer
table child Of nature. She looked like
shaggy young pony fresh from n race ON tn
mountaip-side, as she threw herself on tn
ground in an attitude wh1h was all pictm
sequences and beauty. Then, with her PLUMP
sun-burned hand she began to carelesSly pul
up tho grass, while her black eyes searche,
alternately the prospect and the painter
face
Presently she spoke:
ale says you're a pryin' scoundrel," sh
said
Brinkley looked up and smiled.
who is he, Matt
'Mr. Monk, she replied and gave ier
with her head in the direction of Monkshurs
''Oh, indeed said Brinkley. at is III
amiable equestrian friend, is it! Tn sure II
much obliged 10 him. And when, may asl
did he bore you with his opinion of mcf'
LAST night, when he come to see Willia1
Jones' He said l wasn't to be took no more
cause you was a scoundrel, pokin' an
pryin'.n
Brinkley began to whistle, and went on fo
a while vigorously touching up his worl
Then he looked up and regarded the Ell
curiously.
"Mr. Monk seems to be very much inte
ested in yOu, Matt"
The girl nodded her head vigorously; thel
, | remembering the odious careSs to which Nj
Monk had subjected her, she began to vi,
| ently rub her cheek again.
''Why is Mr.. Monk so interested in YOU
Do you knowp
"P'raps it's cause he found me when / con
: ashore"
"Oh, he found you, did he3 Then VIII
doesn't he keep your
''He do, only l live along o Willial
Jones'"
Again Brinkley began whistling nghtl
and working away vigorously with hi
brush. Presently the conversation bega
again
Matt, what things did you come ashor
ing
. 81 dunnor
'You have never heard whether anvthin
| was found with you which might lead t
your finding your relationsr
''No; no more has William Jones. II
| says maybe they'n find me some day and 7;
= ward him. but Mr.. Monk says they were a
drownded, and l amt got no friends ceI
him and William Jones"
swell, since he found you, suppose
ought to know; and since you have no rel,
tions, Matt, and no claim upon anybody j
the world, 1t was very kind of Mr. Monk [
= keep you, instead of sending you to the worI
/ house, as he might have done"
On this point Matt seemed rather skeptica
"WeIl, continued Brinllley, as he went G
, lightly touching up his work, perhaps hay
done my equestrian friend wrong. Perhal
his unamiable exterior bellies his real nature
perhaps he is good and kind, generous to Il
poor, willing to help the helpless--like yo
for instance"
sis it him~ exclaimed Matt; ''Monk,
, Monkshurst Why he don't give nothin' /
nobody. No fearn
"And yet, according to your own showin
| he has hnlnnd to snnnnrt Won all thesn venrs