Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1891-10-16
A YELLED PICTURE.

what have you concealed here"
said taking hold Of the heavy silk
drapery attached to a rosewood COR
Miro, and falling in graceful folds to
the floor.
'Lilian Lillian. don't raise itr' ez-
clAimed Mrs. Thornton, springirg
frem the easy chair in which she h''(l
been reclining with the listlessness sf
dreaming child, and dartiug to my
slice she pressed so heavily against the
veh that l could discern the outline OF
picture-frame.
"A picture!" l exclaimed. ooh,
must see it, for can never rest where
there is anything mysterious.
''But this you cannot-must not
see."
did not reply. for having been an
inmate of the house only week. and
this being my first visit to the library,
did not give utterance to the thoughts
which rushed through my mind. Per-
haps Mrs. Thornton OWNED my
thoughts. as after moments silence
she said
You are TO have access to this
library at all times; every book is at
your service and you are at liberty.
even. TO rummage the drawers and
pigeon-holes OF my desk. If your cur
iosity demands it; but you must not
look beneath the veil that hides this
picture;" and her pale lips trembled.
her dark expressive eyes were fixed
upon mine.
1t was rather curious how came to
be dweller in the home OF Mrs.
Thornton. Two years before when
but fourteen years old, 1 came to
New Haven TO attend school, and soon
after my father leaving home for
Europe where he expected to remain
three years, intrusted me to tho guar
dianship of Mr.. Howe, an old friend
of his college days. 1t was at the
house OF Mr.. Howe that | first met
Mrs. Thornton. She went but little
into society. and my guardians was
one of the few families she visited.
Her pale. expressive face attracted me,
and then, too. there was an indefinable
something in her dark. liquid eyes
now so sad, and now glowing with an
intense smile. that awoke an answer
Ing echo in my young heart. She al
ways called me TO her side to ask me
about my studies; and when a new
book was announced which she thought
would be suitable for me to read, she
placed it in my hand with my name
engraved upon the fy-leaf in her own
handwriting. Was it strange that my
heart warmed toward her; that her
coming was looked forward to with
pleasure, or that l often begged for
the privilege of visiting her in her
quiet pleasant homer My visits there
were not very frequent and when
there we sat in her boudoir, which
was fitted up with artistic taste. aud
having never been admitted TO the
library 1 had never seen the yelled
picture.
had pleasant home with Mr..
Howe's family; yet it was glad sur
prise when he said that 1 could board
with Mrs. Thornton. if / wished, and
thought that could be happy there.
Mrs. Thornton had proposed it as Mr..
Howe's family anticipated being absent
from the city most of the summer; and
the following Saturday L removed to
her home.
1t was my first holiday in my new
home and | had gone TO the library
with Mrs Thornton, to select a book,
when on passing around. my eyes fell
upon the silk drapery shading the wall
in the furthest corner and was about
to draw it aside, when her exclama-
ton prevented. 1 had promised not
to look beneath the mysterious folds
of that silken veil. yet was not salts
fed; curiosity prompted me to try to
catch hasty glimpse when Mrs.
Thornton was occupied. but honor for
babe.
Summer and autumn passed, and
the long wintry evenings were spent
in the cosy, cheerful library; and
though / cast many a furtive glance
toward the yelled picture dared MOI
question Mrs. Thornton, and began to
despair of the dawning of that day
when she would relate the history of
the picture. 1t was mild evening in
spring and we were sitting before the
CRATE in the library; watching the
fast dimming Goals that had burned
low, while Mrs. Thornton. with closed
eyes sat near in the easy chair. My
revery was broken by the tremulous
tones OF her voice, saying
Lillian, do you remember your
motherp"
Then 1 answered that though 1
turned leaf after leaf OF memory's
book, yet l could find no record of q
mothers love. She died when was
about two years old, yet my father
had been kind. and. as far as possible.
filed the place of both father and
mother. My childhood had passed
happily. my father was both friend and
instructor. and my first grief had been
when / was sent to school and my
father sailed for Europe.
WAS your mothers name LillianP"
and there vas something in the tone
OF her voice that startled me.
Her name was Flora-Flora May.
Was IL not a sweet nameP'
" x,1 tho oINwfnx In