Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1886-05-20
CHAPTER VI.
O1I@AA 4 A-As Il
AGO CoNf.I Irnuc xtrrrIr A III

ALSO CONCLUDES WITH A KISS.
When Matt awoke the next morning, the
| first thing she did was to look around for her
Sunday clothes, which on retiring to rest she
| had carefully placed beside her bed. They
were gone, and in their place lay the habili
merts 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
| clothe5r'
William Jones fidgeted bit, then he said:
"They're put where you won't find 'em.
Look We now, Matt you'd best be after dom
summat useful than runnin' about after a
| painter chap. / was down on the shore this
morning, and / seen heaps o wood-you'd
best get some of it afore nighti'
Matt gave snort, but said nothing. A
few minutes later her benign protector left
the cottage, and q little after he had disap-
pcared Matt issued forth; but instead of
beating the shore for firewood, as she had
been told to do, she ran across the fields to
the painter.
| She found him already established at his
| work. The fact was he had been for some
time strolling 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 few touches to
the portrait. Seeing that he was unconscious
of her approach, Matt crept up quietly be-
hind him and took a peep at the picture.
! Her black Dyes dilated with pleasure
49, - 4. -
$50 you have come at last said Brinkley
| quietly, going on with his painting.
| She made no movement and no further
| sound; SO he continued:
perhaps, now you hare come, you'll be
| good enough to step round that l may con-
| tinue my work. am longing to refresh nv
memory with sight of your face, Mattro
swell, you can't" said Matt; they're
locked upi''
"Eh-what's locked up-my memory or
your face!n
| 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
voice stopped her.
'Cone here, Matt" he said. ''Don't be
silly, child; tell me what's the matter, and
| why, what has become of your resplendent
rai:nent-your gorgeous Sunday clothesr'
Didn't tell yous-they're locked up.n
'Indeedg'
Eyes, William Jones done it cause he told
| him. He don't want me to come here and be
| took"
| ''OhI Tell you what it is, Matt, we will
have our own way in spite of them. For the
present this picture shall be put aside. If in
o day or SO you can again don your Sunday
raimcnt and sit to me again in them-if
not, / dare say ] shall be able to finish the
dress from memory. That portrait l shall
| give to you. In the meantime, as want one
for myself, viii paint you as you are. Do
! you approveg'
Matt nodded her head vigorously
very Wen, !" said Brinkley. Then we wir
, get on"
He removed from his easel and carefully
covered the portrait upon which he had been
working. Then he put up a fresh cardboard,
and sat down, inviting Matt to do the same
! With the disappearance of the Sunday