Connecticut western news., 1890-02-19
IA DREAM. ROMANCE.

A DREAM. ROMANCE.
 Before I left homo in America my mother called me to her. E "You are going to England, Robin, my dear," she sad. "You will see your fathers people. It will be new experience to you. You will see the place wh re he was born, and portraits of his ancestors. Now, h;s ia 8 very old family; but mine is jus. ss old, on.y mine is French. We were titled people. Al ancestor of mine was Count-the Count Jouvin. He was splendid creature, 1 am told, but in his youthful days little wild. Dear, dear, he lived nearly two hundred years ego; but my grandmother had old letters that he had written, and his watch and his miniature. The family fled to America during that awful rev. .olution, and there is no title now; but, remember, you are as Weh-born on your mothers side ason your fathers.
 "I think 1 will give you the portrait of the Count. You may show it to your aunts, if you like. See, have it hcre;" and she laid before me . little miniature set in gems portrait of dark-eyed young man, with straight eyebrows, an,l full chin, and some thing in his face that struck me as familiar, but which I did not under stand, until my mother cried out: "Why, Robin, you are exactly like him! It might be your portrait"
 Then I saw the likeness myself. I was indeed the exact counterpart of this ancestor of mine-this wild young Count who had lived 200 years be- fore.
 It lel,ghted my mother very much te .kaew 1t. was silly enough to be pleased myself. When left America I carried the miniature with me, and 1t arrived safely in England.
 My paternal uncle and his, sisters lived in fne~old English mansion, some miles from Lsndon. reached the house, after some hours of railway travelling, cold and weary, and ready for a good dinner; and having been admitted, 1 was left, for 8 few mo- ments, in large parlor, over the man tel of which hung very old picture of an English officer. He was young man, with stern, gray eyes, and seemed to stare down upon me from the canvas in an aggressive sort of way-so that, had he been alive, I should have expected a challenge on the spot. I supposed that he was an ancester of mine, but he did not look friendly, and I took a terrible dislike to him, though laughed at myself for it.
 ' Try as I would to turn my eyes from h:s pictured face, they wandered back again, and it was only when a voice at my elbow said, ssMr. Robin Rawden, l believe," that averted them, and let them rest, instead, upon the smil- ing face of prim old lady, who, hay ing saluted me with . sort f courtesy that the family were absen., having gone to a wedding, but that she would make me as comfortable as she could until their return, and would I have supper now or go to my room first? chose supper, and having discussed it sought my apartment, not very sorry that the, wus no need of doing the agreeable that night, for l was botl weary and sleepy, and, consequently stupid. ---
 The room into which was ushered was tremendous one, with 8 wide fireplace set about with 8 screen, and four-post bed with curtains, in which ten persons could easily have slept The floor was of oak, with a square rich carpe, in the centre, and there were strsight-legged chairs, ano straighter tables rangcd about at in. tervals.
 All was stiff, and massive and ugly with one excep ion-that exception was 8 p cture, the portrait of 8 young girl with powdered hair end a yer, low-cut bodice, who held half -b.ow1 rose in one hand and shaded her eyel with he other.
 It was an old picture, but the tint. were still fresh, and the beauty of tn. face as soft and new and tender a trough i, had been painted yesterday from . living model who still awaited her seventeenth birthday instead of . couple of hundred years before, st that tn belle who had sat for it nigh have died withered octogenarian be yond the memory of any living man
 As looked at the face an odd fanc, ,. came upon me. I felt that l ha, s Known this girl and loved her. fel that loved her still. wanted t kiss those ripe, pouting lips-to hol' the little round-tipped fingers tha graspod the rose. l actually foun the tears in my eyes as turned ava and prepared for repose, and 1 pu out the light with marvellous regre st losing sight of the face that so im pressed me.
 "Am I falling in love with pic ture?" I asked myself; and sudde comical remembrance of Sam Weller young hairdresser, who conceived tender passion for "von of the va images" in. his window, ended tn matter by making me laugh aloud Having laughed, I yawned-havin yawned, fell asleep-sleeping,
 dreamed.
 I fancied myself not myself. bu another man-in fact, my titled ar cestor, the Count Jouvin. wake up and down a long green lane, wit my riding whip in my hand; beyond a groom held two horses, one bearin a lady's saddle. seemed to be in patient and looked at my watch oftel Iexpected some one-who was it?
 At last knew. A step sounded o