The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1891-08-28


II knew you were fond OF art" OBJ
served the count, looking curiously at
her. 81 will not say your little pictures
are beyond criticism, but there is some
thing in them that like, and that rem
ders them very valuable to me. But I
didn't know that your interest in the adj
vancement Of art lay so near your heart. p"
81 once had very dear friend who
was an artist, and l was thinking more
of him than of myself" She drew a
signing breath, but did not blush. 81
can imagine what he would have wished,
and should be glad to see it done"
"This friends not now hving?"
said the count gently.
He died nearly three years ago."
"And you still think of him and wish
to see his dreams realized" The count
spoke these words in an undertone, and
rather as if communing with himself
than addressing Olympia. at will give
me pleasure, mademoiselle," he con-
tinued, in another voice, ''to know that
in carrying out my projects l am also
fulfilling the desires Of one who was dear
to you"
She had listened with rising color and
sparkling eyes. 1T would be glorious"
she cried, pressing her hands together.
'But can it be done?"
MANY poorer man than l could dc
as much as this" he replied. There is
capital enough in this country engaged
in spreading industries and developing
resources. Civilization can spare me
what need for this hobby of mine; and
perhaps future generation will think
me less unwise than the present one"
The count had become moved beyond
his wont by the train of thought he was
INDUCING, and had risen from his chair,
and was pacing up and down the room.
At this juncture his attention happened
to be attracted to portrait that hung
in an alcove at the left of the window.
1t was an admirable likeness of Olym-
pia herself.
"Ah!' he exclaimed, stopping short.
He remained silent and motiOnless for
several moments, but finally said, in an
indifferent tone: That is good work.
Is it your own"
"Oh, no. l cannot paint like that"
she replied. THAT was painted by my
friend, the artist 1t was the last thing
he did before his death.
"a good work" repeated the count.
Are you willing to dispose Of it? You
can name your own price for it. Frank
", have taken a fancy to it,"
Il cannot sell it, said Olympia. cit
is the most precious thing to me i'll the
world"
The count continued to look at the
portrait, but his face slowly Redeemed.
You will pardon me, mademoiselle,"
he said i'll a low voice. 81 had not sup
posed that you had"-he hesitated-
that you had consecrated yourself to "
memory. Our friends are dear to us
while they remain with us-we love
them-but when they are gone, and
years have passed since their departure,
the sentiment becomes less controlling.
1t is three years, you say, since this man
died. May | say that it seems to have
been a remarkable friendship"
at was not common friendship,
Count de Lisle, and there was never any
one like Keppel Darke, If you knew
what he"-
"Keppel Darke" interrupted the count.
81 have heard the name. Yes. it was
your friend Mr.. Bannick who spoke of
him. a sad story, indeed. He killed
Harry Trent, an old acquaintance of my
own. And you were his friend, made
moiselle? l can see that he possessed
talent, but that he deserved your regard
that seems stranger
Count de Lisle,'' said Olympia, rising
up in angry indignation which she found
it hard to control, ''you don't know what
you are saying, and that is your only ex-
cuse. Keppel Darke died an innocent
man. He was not my friend only;
loved him. | told him so when | last
saw him, and if he We're alive | should
be now his wife. That portrait is the
last thing he painted, it is the only
thing of his that is left to me- Do you
think would part with it? But you
did not know or you would not have
dared to speak sol"
The Count de Lisle listened with his
head bent, and without answering he
moved to the window and stood looking
out. After a while he turned and leaned
with his back against the sill.
"Mademoiselle," he said, Il am glad
to believe that Keppel Darke was inno-
cent. do believe it, for am sure that
you could not have loved man who was
capable of such a crime; but Mr.. Ban
nick told me he was not executed. Are
you certain that he is dead?'
His body was found chained to the
officer who was taking him to prison.
Oh, if there were any doubtr She
pressed her hands together and her lips
trembled
"Of course there can be none. But
had he lived you would have been his
wife?"
She covered her face with her hands,
and then dropped into her chair and
leaned her head against the back of it.
The count stood looking down at her.
He took off his eyeglasses, and his pow
erful dark eyes were bent upon her with
an intense expression. His lips were
parted as if to speak. But at that mo-
ment sound of voices was audible in
an adjoining room. Mrs. Baninck and