The Dalles daily chronicle. [volume] (The Dalles, Or.) 1890-1948, 1891-04-22
A PHANTOM PORTRAIT.

DEAR MIKE-win you look in at my shop
this evening? Quiller is in town, and is going
to dine with me at the club. can't stand an
evening of him alone, but IL you and Teddy
O'Brien will support me, with pipes and pota-
tions, think shall be match for him.
Come early. and I'm your friend for life.
DICK GRAVES.
Ihad nothing particular to do, SO
sent word round to Dick that / should
turn up, having first made sure that
Teddy O'Brien, whose studio was in the
same block, would go also. Quiller we
knew of old, as all the world knew him
"a man who had seen everything, done
everything, been everywhere-and these
occasional visits of his were perpetual
terror to Graves. Why he paid them we
never knew. There was kind of ira
ditional friendship between the families
certainly, but Quiller was man who
scoffed at tradition. He was in every
way out of sympathy with a set of ardent
and impecunious painters. As journal
list, as traveller, as man of the world, he
had outlived his enthusiasms. Life con-
tanned no new experiences, no surprises
for him. 1t was only monotonous
round of the known and the expected.
host, was not at his best that evening.
He was nervous at first, and rather
silent, leaving the burden of talk to
Teddy and myself; and we had the i'll
luck as the punch circulated to light on
n vein of humorous stories, at which we
laughed consumedly ourselves without
evoking even smile from the guest of
the evening.
"Will you fellows look over my Cornish
sketches" said Graves, suddenly jump
ing up in desperation. 81 think there
, are some you have not seen"-and he be-
gan to rummage about among pile of
old canvases.
Quiller resumed his seat, and sat, half
absent1y, half contemptuously, watching
us as we turned over the paintings
possibly he was amused by our jargon
of stone" and quality" and the rest.
AT length picked up from the heap a
painting that caught my eye, and propped
it on the easel near the lamp. 1t was
quite unlike Graves usual work, and l
stood looking at it for moment, not
quite knowing why did so. 1t was the
head of young woman, pale and slight
ly worn. She was leaning little for
ward, looking out of the picture, her
mouth parted by a slight, tremulous
smile, and in her eyes look that was a
Sstrange mingling of emotions, as if a
new hope and happiness had come into a
life of sorrow-a look half wistful, half
exultant turned to speak to Graves
and saw that Quiller had got up, and
was standing gazing at the picture with
a look of fascination or of fear. Here at
last was something that interested him.
Where did you get that?" he asked,
abruptly.
What do you think of it?' said
Graves, slowly.
''It's good head" said Teddy
O'Brien.
ssIts a wonderful model" saidI.
"a face to haunt one," said Quiller.
in tone quite unlike his ordinary Gym
ical one.
''Ah, that's it," said Graves. It's more
than human"
"Who is it?' said QuiIler, in his abrupt
way, again.
"Pon my soul can't tell you, for
don't know. It's queer story, and one
I'm almost ashamed to ask you to believe
/ shan't blame you if you think I'm hum
bugging.''
We settled ourselves by the fire with
our pipes, and Dick began his story in a
manner, for him, so unusually grave
and impressive that it seemed to leave
no room for doubt as to his perfect good
faith in the matter.
II went into Cornwall, as you know,
at the end of the summer, and after
loa6ng round Newlyn for while
went to the south coast to try and find
some place that had been less painted.
/ stayed few days at Polperro, but it
was all so much like the smaller exhib-
itions in town that could not stand it,
and l finally landed at" naming
a small seaport town-"where there
were no painters and not many visitors.
/ stayed at the Ship. Inn,' and looked
around for some place to hang up my
palette.
AFTER some inquiries found small
cottage which had been empty for some
time, but which had evidently been used
as studio, for there was wall knocked
out at one side and q good sized room
added. with high north light. On the
south. the kitchen and 'parlor,' which
opened one into the other, had a view OF
the loveliest little harbor in the world.
The place was just what 1 wanted, and
the rent was absurd-only $40 year; SC
i took it for six months on the under
standing was to keep it on if chose.
bought few things to make the place
comfortable, and got an old woman tc
look after it for me; but / lived most OF
the time at the Ship inn,' and just al
first spent very little time at the studio
only taking in my canvases at night
When October set in, cold and wet, I ha6
to do some work indoors, and then it was
! began to think there was something
queer about the place. One day ha6
been painting a young girl from the vii