Saint Mary's beacon., 1888-09-13

\
been called away for few mosnentt
On business. and has left you in nv
charge. ! am an old friend of his
school-fsllow. in fact
She smalsd and replied Then
suppose ] must stay here until be re.
turns or ! shall never find him in the
crowd Giving me a searching glance,
she added: DO ron mind waiting ?
Mind waiting! I would not have
minded waiting an eternity with her,
but didn't tell her 90.
smiled, said something civil, ard
asked her opinion upon the picture be-
N.
Wsis 10 tsll you the truth, sAs
said, blushing, 4 really thought I re-
'cognizsd myself in it,
Indeed l glanced critically at
the picture, as if had never seen il
before. Not a bad painting, by ne
way
No, not very, she replied; but l
feel certain the beach is intended .cr
that between Dover and Deal. And
as for the dress and hat, l feel quite
sure they are mine
Did you never pose for a picture,
then ? l asked.
Pose for a picture in that outra.
gsous fashion? | should think not
Possibly you may have been asleep
when some one trespassei?' I sugges-
ted.
i: that De so, | conf::der it 4 piece
of impertinence, she said very dec:-
dedly.
All these artist fellows have no
conscience. They think The whole
earth was made for them alone, l re.
piled.
She bent over and looked in the
corner Of the picture.
Ray, she said, 'Haro.i Ray : while
started and grew pale and fiery in
one moment and felt that Ray must
be branded upon my forehead. Il,
don't like the sound of it. Ray, RAY.
| can just imsgiue him-a little man
in velvet coat and broad-brimmed
hat. Ughr
/ ask you frankly, could I tell her
1t this moment that I was tie guilty
person
NO; 1 must put in a few words in
''vor of poor Harold Ray first. !
.Ah' Did you say Ray? l asked. |
Why, Harold Ray-yes, yes-whv, f.
les a great friend of mine =
Oh | beg your pardon if have
ai aia anything rude of your friend
she WAS snpnctiliOusly, not at all as
hink yourself that !, But don't you
well, presuming Of him.
l pulled my moustac&e and looked
ritical.
Well, l grant You that it was hard
y fair thing and all that you know,
said. with candor; but vou must
onsider the circumstances, the infor-
nality Of the piace-the temptation,
c to speak. If you knew Ray am
ure you would never accuse him Of
mpertinence. He is certainly not
,ore, and-and he reveres the fair
ex.'
She was gazing drsaminsly at the
picture, and when I paused she smiled,
lot at all disapprovingly, and muir
oh 90 on-pray 60 on ! Tell ,
ne more about him.
Well, there isn't anything more to
ELL l said, feeling myself fairly in a
corner, for really could not sound |
my own trumpet any longer.
rs he-handsoue?' she asked with
\ nonchslant air, still gazing at my
picture.
'Eh-hardlyT I stammered.
Clever?
No; decidedly not. He has little
talent, but that 10 ALL
Not handsome and not clever, she
with laugh. Why, then,
what is this interesting creaturs?'
Only an artist with an idea l
began, half lightly, half in earnest "a
young fellow who is tracking footprints
to the sea and wondering where they
are going to lead him poor creature
whose fate is marked by a crimson
sailor hat, which he can't pluck up the
courage TO lift. In short. were | TO
tell my friend that ] had at last seen
the original of this mysterious sketch
be would be beside himself. Were /
to hold ont the promise that he might
enjoy the same privilege. he would be
il the proverbial heaven, aud did be
meet you he would be-"
felt hearty slap upon my back,
aud heard Jack Barrett cry out "Rsy,