The gold leaf. [volume] (Henderson, N.C.) 1881-1911, 1891-03-26
RECONCILED.

y
sauntering in Union square, and stopped
In at Signor ROma's studio. found the
young artist busily at work upon the
likeness Of q lady i'll crayOnS.
| soon became interested in the grow
ing face. not because OF its beauty-for
it was the f:,'... -: II woman at least 40
years old-Jat because OF the tender
look Of chastr:cl .,,Tering in the large,
wide-open eye.
Roma, id, that is very at
tractive face"
She has til" lovelincss of completed
suffering; i,or face is IL history, not a
calendar; thAt is the secret Of her at
tractiveness. Her daughter is living
poem and picture"
You speak like a lover"
. am one"
Does she know it,"
''Who shall tell her? l might as we'll
love some bright, particular star and
think to we'd it, as love and hope to wed
Pearl Bailey. She is Richard Lufkins
hf Hs dronnsd his head and went on
with his work in nervous haste. Pres
emily I heard q rustic of silk, sweet,
low voice and Il little, ripping, musical
laugh. Immediately Roma was at the
door, and bowling low, as he held it open
for the two ladies who entered.
The elder was clothed in black silk,
unrelieved by anything, excepting lit
tie foam Of rich, white lace and the dull
glitter of some Jet ornaments. The
younger had on a dress in which pale
violet and cream colors were exquisite
ly blended The face of the elder was
the face of one who had suffered and
conquered; the face of the younger was
the face Of a SinleSS, SOrrOwleSS child,
who, unsuspectingly had grown into
wOmanhood. The mothers hair was
nearly white; the daughters, Il pale,
golden frame to little oval picture of
exquisite beauty.
I did not wonder when / saw the girl
that Roma should feel utterly hopeless
in regard 20 his love. But before their
visit was over | had changed my opin-
ion. | noticed Pearls shy chances at the
| handsome artist, and her bright, re-
sponsive bushes whenever Roma's lum-
nous eyes met hers. l saw, in fact,
that Pearl was just as much in love as
Roma vas.
/ became a visitor at Mrs. Bailey's,
but beyond Il certain mental and artistic
sympathy, our acquaintance did not
ripen quickly. The winter passed and
| the summer sent one hither and another
thither. l went to the seaside, Mrs.
Bailey and Pearl to the mountains.
But one day, as l stood in front of a
store, balancing a certain point about
silks in my mind, a gentle hand touched
me and a pleasant voice said, Good
morning. as frankly and quietly as If
we had met but yesterday. 1t was Mrs.
| Bailey; yes, it was She though might
| have passed her twenty times and not
known her, 50 greatly was she changed.
| ct g U.if a1
handsome man, who might have been
! fifty years of age, ceased giving some
directions to the cOachman and ap-
preached us. Mrs. Bailey introduced
him to me as Mr.. Bailey, my husband"
and then with cordial invitation to call
on them she passed down the steps and
into the waiting carriage.
suffered two or three days to elapse,
and then went to call upon Mrs. Bailey,
1t was a cold, wet day, but Pearl and
Roma were making sunshine for them
selves in the usual sitting-parlor, and
was asked by servant to see Mrs.
| Bailey in her own room.
do not know what influence of the
dreary day, or Of the coy room, or Of
her own mind. ruled her, but she was
evidently inclined for confidential con-
versation, and from one topic to another,
we fell gradually into those predisposing
to personal matters. | was scarcely
astonished when, after some preliminary
remarks she told me her story She
said:
Il was born in Boston, Of an old and
rich family. | do not remember my
mother. and my father died while l was
very young, leaving me and my fortune
/ to the care Of my half-brOther. Richard
Lufkin. He strOvcto be both father
and brother to HE.
J I'VE loved each other dearly, and
! nothing darkened our affection until I
met and loved Philip Bailey You see
| how handsome he is now judge then
/ what he was twenty-four years ago.
! That he was eXtravagaut did not alarm
/ me.
but we were no sooner married than
| trouble began. It was my fault. l was
exacting to ridiculous degree, Jealous
of every moment of Philips time, and
would no. suffer him to be absent from
my side an hour in peace. Love soon
frets at such authoritative restraint !;
uuarrels and reconciliations followed
each other quickly, and then-alas !!
Guarrels when we made no apologies,
and which were not followed by recon-
/ citations.
! The home which we had furnished
with such promises OF happy and
peaceful life became q scene Of constant
pickering. recriminations, tears and
complaints. All this began in such little
things. that l am ashamed to recall
them. but they opened a wide door for
far worse ones
Children came to US, a beautiful boy,
and pretty, bright girl. Philip was
very fond and proud of them, and strove
hard to atone for his neglect. But in
stead OF accepting the present love. I
was continually poisoning the hapDiest
hour by regrets for the ones he had
wasted, and by doubts Of his futura In.
tentions.
Then money began to fail we became
embarrassed, and my brother refused ma
all further help. When this took place
there was a bitter quarrel. J went
further. l passed my brother on the
J street. and forbade the little children.
who loved him SO dearly, to speak to him.
At the end Of five years we had to give
up housekeeping and board. In another
year we found it impossible any longer
to preserve even the outward semblance
of our former estate. and Philip said we
must go to New York
We left Boston clandestinely: no
friend wished US God speed and
my brother was still unreconciled
The little money We had soon evapo-
rated in boarding-houses; we passed
from one to another, always sinking a
little lower, until at length day came
W. en- We had neither money nor home.
Il sat gloomily down in fearless.
sulking Indifference, and scarcely heed.
ed either the crying of my children or
the reproaches and promises Of my hus-
band. For he vowed, even then, he
would abandon all his evil ways and
work hard, If could trust him once
more. can see him yet as he stood