The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1886-04-29
II shall sing Highland Mary for

eyes.
~Ah, lassie!" he exclaimed, "what a
treat to hear you sing You have the
voice of 4. angel"
l sang "Ye Banks and Braes of Bonnie
Doom"
The handkerchief was in constant
requisition. heard HIM sob out loud
~YOu have moved me, lassie, to the
core. can not stand any more; it
brings back too strongly the days of
auld lang syne, SO you must pity the sor-
rows of a poor old man."
He left me, looking greatly agitated,
and with red eyes, promising to return
in a couple of days at the same hour for
three hours sitting.
When Mr.. Cameron came for his sit
ting, he noticed that 1 seemed detected,
and asked if anything had happened to
annoy me.
II have a headache" What would
we poor women do without our head
aches, for they cover such multitude of
sins and omissions p
you worry yourself too much over
this portrait. 1 feel ashamed of the
trouble 1 am giving you. 1 had no
notion that portrait-painting was SO
difficult"
"Yes; am in Slough of Despord." I
scraped and Stumbled. After an hours
work.
On leaving that day, Mr.. Cameron
held my hand longer than usual, and
sighed.
Poor cid man. felt sorry for him; he
was lonely.
The next day being Thursday, I went
to the National gallery and set to work
on my copy of Andrea del Sarto; his
face seemed more beautiful than ever.
That days work refreshed and COM
forted me.
That evening received letter from
Harold, telling me that he had some
thing important! Most probably he was
going to have living, and, if so, our
marriage would soon take place.
The next morning magnificent bou-
quet of roses was left at the door for
Miss Ward.
How nice of dear Harold to be so
thoughtful" mentally exclaimed, while
shifting the glorious roses and enjoying
the bright feast of color. The bouquet
was wrapped in silver lace, and round
the stem 1 saw for the first time card,
which had escaped my notice:
From Mr.. Donald Cameron, with his
very kindest regards"
Oh, SO it was not from Harold! But
how kind of Mr.. Cameron! Now, 1
must really iatter him. Taking up the
portrait, 1 did my very best to put in a
benevolent expression. l mellowed
down the nose, and toned down the
warm coloring of the face, and managed,
in a measure, to give the expression of
benevolence.
When Mr.. Cameron appeared again, 1
fancied he looked thinner and paler.
thanked him for the bouquet.
Would you like another peep at your
portrait ?" said, rather brusquely.
"You have flattered me, ;" he remarked,
sitter watching my performance for a
while in silence; but never mind
shat like to think that you have seen
me in such kindly light"
"Shall l sing for you, Mr.. Cameron
You have sat long enough for me to-
day"
1 Invent to the piano, and, while 1 was
looking for some music in the rack, Mr..
Cameron sat down ON the music stool.
Are you going to play for me?" 1
asked, smiling at him. Il should like to
hear you so much"
He did not answer, but turned round
and round on the stool, hopping the per-
SEPARATION from his face with a scarlet
handkerchief. There was a queer ex-
preston ON his face; evidently he was
suffering from a severe attack of nerv-
business.
He whirled round and round like a
teetotum, the stool creaked and groaned
under his heavy weight, his eyes were
wild and rolled about fearfully; l heard
his voice, but it was so husky l could
barely distinguish the following words:
Il am lonely, elderly man, but that
is no reason why should not have a
heart, and tell you that"-now the stool
gave tremendous squeak-I love you
yes, do. Will you give me some
hope ?" A loud knock at the front door.
"Oh, Mr. Cameron, please don't say
anything more on this subject, it is
really too painful" but, before 1 could
say another word, Mr.. Cameron was
SPRAYING on the floor; the stool had
given way. Harold walked in, and we
were locked in each others arms, but 1
disengaged myself quickly.
"Oh, Mr.. Cameron, / am SO sorryl Are
you hurt? He has been sitting for his
portrait, Harold" gasped out.
Harold, who was very shy young
man, colored up; he had not noticed the
prostrate form almost lying st my reer.
"Oh, allow me to help you; the stool
has given way, see," exclaimed Har-
old
1 coI,ld not look at Mr.. Cameron, for
1 felt how wretchedly i'll at ease he
must be.
Il am little faint, he muttered, get
ting up, "but the fresh air will set me
up. am going-where is my hat 2"
l saw the hat; he had put it on the
coal-scuttle. Evidently he did not know
what he was doing.
"Oh, Mr.. Cameron, don't go yet"
said; @you have had a shake. This
music stool isnot in good order. am SO
sorry; do stay little longer"
mo; 1 must go now, Miss Ward. 1
have stayed too long; but allow me to
congratulate you on your good luck" adj
dressing Harold.
While his back was turned 1 rescued
his hat from the coal-scuttle.
"Now, Mr.. Cameron, here is your hat,
but won't give it to you till you tell
me when you will kindly come for one
more sitting, for have not done justice
to your expression. He has been such
a patient sitterl" 1 remarked, speaking to
Harold. Are we not friends, Mr.. Cam
eron?n
God bless you bothI wish you every
happiness" and, before knew what he
was about, he had pulled his hat from
my hand ard was on the doorstep.
l never told Harold, or, indeed, any
one that MIR. Cameron had proposd to
me; felt grieved and uneasy. Had 1
been guilty of flirting or misleading in
any way that kindly man, who was so
lonely? l sincerely hoped he would get
some suitable, nice woman to be his wife,
for was almost young enough to be his
granddaughter.
A few days after this last episode re-
ceived the following note from Mr.. Cam.
eron:
DEAR Miss WARD find that must
leave London Immediately. There is no