Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1886-06-01
CHAPTER |.
THE PICTURE.


my old friend put me in position to relate
this story, more than once ventuIed to re-
mark that he had a surprising acquaintance
with number of facts and conversations
which might be supposed to be beyond the
earshot of an ordinary friend He smiled in
a very peculiar way, and saw faint streak
of red coming out upon his cheek Then,
with sigh, he answered that | might be
satisfied that his story was truthful one.
How he came to know it so fully | need not
inquire. The sadness with which this was
said set me thinking; but for that time l
understood no more.
Little Mr.. Brent returned home that day
heartily ard thoroughly ashamed Of himself.
His bitterest enemy could not have wished
him more humbling fall. Being great
man for letter writing, and firmly impressed
with the fatal belief that the large number of
human complications can be adjusted by cor
respondencc, he sat down after his dinner to
write an explanation and apology to Mrs.
Temple, The number of sheets he tore up,
the enormous variety of openings which he
adopted and cast aside at the fifth line the
sheets beginning Dear Madam then MY
Dear Madam then Dear Mrs. Temple
then my Dear Mrs Temple" falling sub,e-
quently into Mr. Brent ventures TO present
his respectful compliments" and besides these
the ~ am overwhelmed with confusion" at
is, assure you, with the most poignant sem
stations of sorrow" what can say" what
can urge in extenuation of my behaviori"--
so many of these were begun, cast aside, and
torn up very small, lest any one should find
out what he had been doing. that as the
night wore on the rector gradually began to
look like a man who is being showed up
When at twenty-five minutes past four Il. m.
after nearly nine hours of underwriting
head work, the apology was finished, there
was not left enough clean stationery i'll the
house for a washing bill; but in place of it
there were fragments of paper lying on the
floor sufficient for the manufacture of six
full sized paper pillows. With aching head,
yet n little consoled withal, the rector Stun
bled up stairs to his weary pillow.
If he used a thousand sheets for his letter it
may be safely computed that one thousand
and one was all that was required for the en-
tire correspondence. Small was the paper
and few the lines of Mrs Barbara Temples
answer.
Dear Mr. Brent"-thus it ram have
received your ietter of apology, and cannot
say that it is at all more than the occasion re
qured. At the same time as you are sensible
of the improperly of your beha>ior, hope
you will now forget it, as | shall. One stipu-
lation only make. The sub ject of marriage
or, indeed, any allusion to what passed he
tween US Vesterday-must never be made.
On these terms you are free to resume Your
intercourse with my daughters and myself.
Truly yours. BARBARA TEMPLE"
"A very handsome letter" Mr. Brent said.
Il shall take her at her word" and after
lunch he drove over to the house with Il
splendid present of fruit and flowers, and be-
ing received in the usual friendly way by
mother and daughters, and his character be-
ing a slight one, not permanently impreSsi-
BILE he half forgot the misery of his exit from
the place yesterday. Only when he first
spoke to Mrs. Temple there was a trepidation
in his voice and manner; but she was OBJ
viously determined to keep her promise that
he gradually grew composed Once only his
courage quite failed him Caroline, the
student, was reading history, and with that
slight atfectaton of intellectual pursuits, from
which not even her mothers lectures could
guard her, she tried to call the rector's atten-
ton to her lofty employment. The question
she asked him was an unfortunate one. She
was an ardent Liberal, and inquired, in a
pause in the conversation, if he did not think
that great good had arisen from the French
revolution. The rector was so contounded by
this inapposite interroga ton that he nearly
tumbled off his chair.
The next day his thoughts were driven into
another channel At breakfast he got letter
from his son announcing his arrival in Lon
don, and saying that he would be III Kettle
we'll at halt-paSt four that afternoon. Amidst
the vexation of the last two days, this was a
prospect full of relief, and the young fellow
was received with more than paternal well
come. Before dinner was over, between the
4 al. -.
his son, all acting on trivial nature, easily
moved, the rector was quite comiorted. Now
he could have faced Mrs. Barbara Temple
with jest and look of pleasantly. At least
50 he fancied.
Brent junior was good looking young fel
low of three and twenty, with a frank sim
pie manner well suited to his years Men
tally he was much superior to his father, and
every sentence showed it; but he behaved
with tilial Difference which was pleasant Il
see All through the dinner there was Il
touch of preoccupation and even sadness,
about him, and upon this his father remarked
as soon as they were alone.
81 hope you have not left any one behndP
the father asked humorously.
NO the son answered with a blush and
laugh, you don't think me quite a simple
ton in this matter, do your
ell, Percy, you are young, the sag
father replied. AT my time of life if a MAJ
fell III love with a picture, think he woulC
be bit of an ass. But then | am forty nine
have age and experience, and knowledge o
the world
"You are very kind to take it in that way =,
the son answered. 81 really don't want to b,
laughed at
as this wonderful picture in your posses
sionl" Brent senior inquired next
EYES," the young fellow answered eagerly
and he was darting up stairs to fetch it
Pausing on his way, he said 81 had bette
tell you the story of it first"
He made no bad picture himself, leanin.
carelessly against the sideboard his face an,
eyes kindling as he spoke with the delight O
the subject Little Mr., Brent regarded hin
with no small pride; and the young fellow
with a light bashfulness which made tn
little narrative the more interesting told hi
story.
81 met an artist out there and he and | be
Ha fall i'll mud |