The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1892-02-10

The unclaimed portrait was purchased
and brought home And as again L gazed
on the bright young face, radiant with
happiness, and compared it with the one
on which had been written the sequel of
its after history how it appealed to my
sympathy.
Miss Lawrence of course thought very
strange of the purchase. And Mrs. HAM
merton having no objection, but rather
desiring that 1 should do so, told the
sad story to my young friend.
After the arrival OF the picture my in
vailed gained rapidly, and soon urged me
to send for Edgar, as his birthday was fast
approaching. | did so reluctantly, Tor
was loath to give her up; she had become
such delightful adjunct to my life. In
response to my letter to Mr.. Hammerton,
containing his mother'srequ l received
a telegram informing US of the time he
would start and the road over which he
would come.
Then the fond mother planned as she
had planned and dreamed forty years ago.
She arranged just where her Ed gar should
first see the picture; she wondered what
he'd think of himself at the ace OF four.
She asked if l thought he would remem-
Der having seen the picture in the art
gallery. And if | supposed he could
possibly trace in the thin, faded old face
any resemblance to that of the young
woman in her velvets and lace in the
picture.
Mrs. HammertOn's toilet in anticipation
of her sons arrival had been carefully
and tastefully prepared. She wore a soft
black silk gown strewn with flowers of
heiotrope shade. And dainty little lace
cap, trimmed with ribbon of that color.
crowned her beautiful white hair, which
was worn in puis on either side OF her
pale face Tonight, however, the cheeks
were slightly flushed and the dark eyes
bright and glowing with a happy expect
ancv. AS l fastened to her corsage little
cluster of ferns and heliotrOpes, l said:
"For my part, think the faded old face
much more beautiful and attractive than
the young face on the canvas, handsome
as tits.
The time for Edgar Hammerton's ar
rival had come, but minutes passed and
we wondered at his delay. Then an hour
had gone by, then two and three. and
still he came not. But the evening paper
did, and as opened it | read: Another
Terrible Railroad Disaster" My heart
SEOOQ sLlll, colo cnllIs CTepL over me, anu l.
was dumb and motlonless. There was
the list of killed aud wounded, and yes,
there was Edgar Hammerton's name
among the first.
l do not know how l broke the news to
that poor mother. / do not know what |
said or did. And it seems almost needless
to add that Mrs. Hammert0n survived
the shock but a few DAYS. Before she died
she whispered to me, "You will always
keep the unclaimed portrait, won't you,
dear, in remembrance of the poor old
lady who came to you a stranger and you
took her to your heart and home. only, l
fear, to give you grief and trouble?"
The fated picture hangs in the room
made sacred by her brief occupancy and
death, and forms sort of shrine to which
Miss Lawrence and myself oft make our
pilgrimages attracting us even on that
memorable afternoon in the art gallery.
Before il we grow silent, and each in
dulges in her own reflections. But not as
then do we essay to weave in connection
with it probable romance. That is not
necessary, for around the picture now
cluster sad and tragic associations which
appeal to us with all the pathos and power
OF veritable realities, And the soul of
the picture speaks TO US of the strength
and beauty Of the life so heroic in Its VIC
tory over lifelong sorrow.
WINNIEFRED WAYNE.