Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910, 1890-08-30
A BROKEN HEART.

never look at that picture on the
wall without sigh 1t represents
beautiful girl, roughly clad, leaning
against stranded boat, with great
shaggy dog at her side. There is the
scene just as my brother Fred painted it
one summer. Fred was engaged at the
time to Julia Carter, and we were all
pleased with his taste. One day in
vited Ellen Brown, the fisher girl whom
Fred was painting, to visit the house
where we were spending the summer.
Mrs. Elkins, our hostess, had taken quite
fancy to the lovely child
/ let her look about in the parlor, fur
nished with lavish expenditure of money
and taste, noting her shy admiration and
the look almost of awe she gave to the
evidences of wealth Oh all sides. Then
took her to my own room, where, over
my mantel piece hung full length pict-
ure of Julia Carter IN ball dress,
painted by Fred as birthday gift to me.
1t attracted Ellen's eyes at once, and
she gave a quick cry of admiration.
How beautiful she isEr she cried.
~And what lovely dressi All lace and
fiowersl Ladies wear those dresses. l
have seen them through the windows
when they danced at the hotel in the
evening. And how white her arms and
shoulders arel Not brown, like mine.
She looks like an angel with her golden
hairl Is she your sister, Miss Coleman9"
@She will be soon," said, my heart
shrinking as l spoke; "she will be my
brother Fred's wife in October.
"Mr. Garner's wife!"
Almost a whisper, while over the rich
red lips the deatllly whiieness of sud
den shock gathered. and the great dark
eyes were strained in long agonized
gaze at the beautiful face looking with
cold pride down upon her. Slowly they
turned from the picture to a long mirror
that reflected the faded shrunken blue
dress, the broken shoes, the sunburned
shabby hat, and then, with a piteous
shivering moan, Ellen Browne dropped
senseless at my feet.
Ny tears fell thickly upon the lovely
face as / applied restoratives, but
when the dark eyes opened / said, as
carelessly as / could:
@The heat to-day has been too much
for you. You posed in the sun too
long.
She did not contradict me, but sat,
white and still, while talked on indif-
ferent matters, and presently she opened
my photograph album, looking, knew
well, for one lovely face, which she found
in large hats and small, shaded by falling
curls, varied by 20 picturesque costumes,
Fred's caprices. i .le graceful figure was
there in walking dress. evening dress,
every becoming dress Fred had admired
and Julia perpetuated on paper.
We heard voices soon, and then Ellen
said:
II viii go home now, Miss Coleman,
and come to luncheon another time.
Ny head aches.
managed so that she did not meet
Fred and Mrs. EIkins, who made no
comment Mrs Elkins understood, and
Fred had forgotten her.
A fortnight later we went home, Fred
telling me in confidence that that little
Browne child was so dull and stupid
lately she was of no use at all.
The next year Fred and his wife be-
ing on their wedding trip in Europe, Mr..
and Mrs EIkins at Newport, went to
pass q week alone at Somerset. And my
first call was on old Mrs Browne, whom
] found alone in the cottage. Il asked
for Ellen.
ELLEN is dead. ma am, she answered
me. She went, as her ma did, in con-
sumption: pined away like soon as cold
weather came on last fall, and just
wasted away like her ma, as said.
Was she III i0ngl" managed to ask
sEhe weren't never sick at all, 50 to
say, was the answer; Jest got thinner
and peakeder, and knew she would go
as her ma did. She died the week after
Christmas Jest slept away, quiet as a
baby. ~ f CO.
could not speak for tears
aIaws, ma'am, don't take on, the
old woman said kindly. @She often
spoke Of how good you was to her and
the other lady, ana told me about the
picture she was put in, and how Your