Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1889-04-04


clew to what he thought was a crime.
1t was there before him in the shape of
locket, and from the locket looked a
face that was mirrored in his heart.
When he picked up the handkerchief the
locket was in his hand.
CHAPTER II.
That evening Harry Weston looked
upon the living counterpart of the por-
trait upon the ivory locket. A fair face,
truly, was that of Estelle Duverne, or
Stella, as her school friends knew her.
A low brow surmounted by fluffy blonde
hair of such silky fineness that it might
be compressed into knot no larger than
ones hand, and yet when shaken loose
would fall in shimmering light over neck
and shoulders to the waist. Eyelashes
and eyebrows were dark and heavy, af-
fording to the hair a striking contrast
that is one of the rarest and loveliest eff
fects in feminine beauty. Yet her chief
charm lay IN her eyes, which were gray
and exceptionally large. They would be
almost too large were they not so be-
wilderingly fringed with shadow. A
warm blossom mouth and chin, small
like the forehead, taken with a complex
ion of the purest pink and white IRE
deemed from doll-like delicacy by rich
ness of color, made up an ensemble of
girlish loneliness that a painter would
rave over and poet weave into his
dreams. The figure threatened to grow
heavy with time, but now it was eXquis-
itely proportiOned, the bust opulent, the
rounded neck marble in white strength,
the waist slender but curved without a
suggestion of waspisyness. Here was
an example of exuberant health and
beauty combined, the physical realiza-
ton of the Greek ideal. Weston, who
adored beauty with the ardor of youth
and the devotion of an artist, felt in
Stella's presence a sense of sweetness
verging upon pain, such as comes to one
in reading an ode by Keats.
He had known her only few months;
she was the guest of his cousin, Alice
harrington, who had finished her studies
at a fashionable convent and brought her
favorite classmate to the coy and mod
est home on one of the South Side av-
enues. He loved Stella from the mo-
ment their eyes met, and had told her so
before she had time to learn the state of
her own heart. Already she was begin
ming to reciprocate the sentiment. He
was so different from her in all things
that he attracted her; his pensiveness
was as marked as his gayety; his idealisE
as strong as her frank enjoyment of the
realities of life.
As she came into the dimly-lit parlor
this night Harry Weston felt within him
stronger than ever that sinking sensation
as when one receives a keen delight
from a sensuous perfume or still more
sensuous strain of music. She greeted
him with a simplicity which no con.
seriousness of personal charm had ever
destroyed in her, and a tenderness that
was deepening with every passing day
Like Rossetti's ''Sister Nelr' i'll the poem
of Jenny
Her unconquered mirth grew quieter
Beside anOther's faith in her.
81 have something to show you," said
her visitor, abruptly; "look at this pic
ture and tell me what you think Of it"
She took the locket in her hand and
gazed upon the portrait, first with a
| startled glance and then with long earn.
, estness. How lovely!' she said simply
''It is very like YOU"
The compliment passed unheeded. The
girl herself was thinking how like hel
the portrait was. The big eyes were
misty as she raised them and inquired
''Whose is it?'
81 thought you might be able to tel
me that" said Harry; sit looks enough
like you to be the face of your sister, or
he added slowly-"of your mother"
She kissed the portrait at the sugges,
ton. ''You know never knew my
mother. She died when I was hardly
more than baby. That was in Alsace
! My father was an officer who died for
! France in our last war. I never saw
! him, for l always lived with my grand
father. You did not know that my
| guardian was also my grandfather
! "Bordello, the artist" inquired Harry
as rush of suggestions came upon him
when the quaint figure that he had com,
! pletely forgotten came before his minds
! eye. "Your andfather-strangei He
/ is eccentric, is he not?'
Eyes, to the world he is; but he was
always loving to me and has watched
/ over me all my life. He is old and sad
I and spends his life alone in that old gar
ret-studio, where he says it is too dirty
for me to come. Show him the picture
but tell me first where did you get it:
Leaving out the narrowing details
which the next day were to be in the
hands of every reader in Chicago. Harry
briefly related the incidents attending
/ the finding of the locket. ''Say nothing
! of this to any one," he added; 81 have
done wrong to take this, but l had E
double reason. L saw in it clew which
those stupid detectives would overlook
and if probe to the bottom this jews
death, which to them is commonplace
but to me mysterious, think what g
"scoop" it will be for the columns of the
argus. 1t means distinction and promo
ton, and must win both. But there
was another motive. As ray Of sun.
light fell on this loclzet in that horrible
den I saw what thought was your face
l had no scruples then. The locket is
safe with me till know its history. AnC
now to see your grandfather"
The address she gave him was one OF
the highest buildings on South CLARK
street, in locality that was far from
reputable. To reach it he took occasion
to pass the scene of the tragedy, as the
Sherman street house was almost direct
ly in his way.
1t was after 10 o'clock when he picked
his way through the foggy, ill-ighteC
streets of that portion of Chicago which
is given over to what may be generally
described as the criminal classes. Ht
was now in that section the boundarie;
of which ora known m sO few naomi.