Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1886-10-27
Gales aud Sketfhes.


A woman of so, with handsome. re
fined countenance, in the lines of whict
was written hidden grief. sat, surround
ed by all the luxury of . palatial home
mournfulIy staring into the glowing coal,
of crate fire-sat staring at face which
peered at her from the white, hot depths
The face was that of beautiful girl. al.
most child, at the period where girlhooe
touches the bridge across which lies young
womanhood. |. was a charming visage
made fascinating by golden hair and gray
ewes, which meant world OF different
things to whoever looked into them. The
woman's reverie was interrupted by hel
boudoir door being thrown suddenly
open. A vision Of grace. youth and beau
ty tripped in, young girl, who, as she
stood motiouless for one instant in the GEN.
ter of the apartment, was the most exact
counterpart of the face in the Goals. with
one exception. the eyes. They we're gray
like those others, but instead of meaning
a world of different things to each new
man who studied them, they spoke only
one trait-truthfulness 10 everybody.
The girl glanced for moment at the
figure in the chair. Then going noise
lessly to the woman's side she threw her
arms about her, kneeling on the floor as
she did so, and saying:
Mother mine, what is the matter p
"Why should I tell you, child? You
are very happy, and have not the heart
to intrude a fear which might render you
wretched."
"A fear. motherP What are you think
ing ofp'
"How strange. In what way can
thoughts of that render you or me unhap-
py."
81 have been looking into the Goals,
Eleanor, and see there only one thing"
"What is it. mother?''
1.-THE face of your twin sister,"
"Estelle's face?"
Eyes 1t has haunted me all day, and
it seems like the forerunner of trouble. :"
These are only your dismal fancies,
mother mine. Don't give way to them.
Why should you so often recall the
dead ?"
1.-The deadp'
Eyes. Is not Estelle dead3 Is she not
lying alone in that little graveyard at
Nicep And did she not write before her
death and tell you that the guilty wretch
with whom she ran away had married her
Besides, no one knows her true story but
you and l. Every body thinks that while
abroad she married fortune hunting no.
bleman and died few years later. At
the worst it was rash escapade which
has been forgotten long since. The world
gossips over and remembers affairs OF that
kind for only nine DAYS at the most"
1.-The world, even the better part of it,
is very bitter. child. when it finds an OPP
portunity to be So"
"Whv need we worry. mother? Russell
knows the story, and if he can blot it out,
why should not wep Do you suppose for
an instant that it could possibly change
his regard for me in the future ?'
"Did Russell Graham know it all All,
no; nor Eleanor. They both knew that
four years previously, when Mrs. Mort-
mer had been travelling through Europe
with her lovely twin daughters, one of
those daughters had eloped with hand
some adventurer. They both heard later
that the adventurer was impecunious
nobleman, who had married his victim at
Nice, where she died and was buried.
But Mrs. Mortimer knew more than
secret knowledge when Eleanor was safe
in her own apartments. Then she took
from her pocket letter written on for
eign note paper, read it seriously, painful
"; hesitated moment, and finally threw
it into the fire, saying to herself as it
crumbled to ashes:
at must be a mistake. God grant it
may be-"
On the evening following the interview
between mother and daughter, Russell
Graham. Eleanors fiance. dropped into a
swell club of which he was member
A number of friends chaffed him good
naturedly on his approaching marriage,
and he took their badinage in the proper
spirit. A little incident occurred, how
ever, which put him in decidedly dan
gerous temper. He happened to be left
alone for moment, and was debating
whether he should return home or whether
he should remain and order supper when
his thoughts drifted into new channel at
hearing his name mentioned in strange
voice with foreign accent, by some per-
son in the room next his own, and which
was separated from it only by velvet
portere, The first wsrds which he heard
distinctly were;
"Of course it is the same girl. | had
good look at her to-day when he was
driving with her on the boulevard
Really, can't understand the thing. The
winter saw her in st. Petersburg hel
name was most unpleasantly connected
with that of Count Romanoff."
"Srrely. you must be wrong"
Hardly. saw her with her mother
six months later, in Paris, and have
since met the mother here in New York
| tell you it is the same young woman.
The voices sank to whispers. and the
listener, his mind in whirl of uncertain
tv as to whom the unseen speakers were
abiding to, remained silent for while
wondering what he had best do. After
few moments he concluded to enter tn,
apartment and settle his doubts. He drew
aside the portiere. The chamber was
empty. Ordering his carriage he drove
home. Three weeks later ne was married
to Eleanor Mortimer and on his way t.
Paris for his honeymoon.
The Partisan season was at its height
and the fashionable world was engrosset
10 tollies of every description. Their,