The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1892-11-02
AFTER YEARS.

Twenty years ago-bcing then a young
artist just starting in my profession in
London-I received through the kindness
of n friend n commission from the Duke of
c., which drove me hulf wild with de-
light. l was to follow the family from
town, stay at c. castle and paint a Dor
trait of his youngest daughter, the Lady
Gencvicve. l shook hands energetically
with my friend and started per rail in the
wake or my noble patron, who had gone
down to his seat the week before.
1t was glorious summer day when
arrived and the park SO beautiful that 1
half forgot its owner. 1 camo Mt last into
green dell, where Il little spring dubbed
up clear and cold from among the moss. A
drinking cup was chaalcd to the stone l
lifted it to my lips and then took off my
hat and leaned against n tree near by.
had not heard footsteps behind me
the moss was SO thick and soft--but two
shadows fell across the one spot of sun
Shine in the glade, and started and looked
up. a stout, good naturcd looking old
gentleman, brown rs n farmer, and with
something of an American farmers frank
manliness about him, stood opposite to
me. On his arm leaned n girl of sixteen
with the most honest. loving face had
ever seen. bowed, and they returned the
courtesy and turned toward the spring
i want it walled in, papa" said n very
sweet voice that suited the face charm
lnRly; 1T will be clearer then"
Clearer, Genc2 Why, what can you
want clearer than that2 Look at it, in it
you Cain See Your face in ito
She bent over the water-trod upon
loose stone in doing so-and flingng up her
hands and springing forward to save her.
self stepped with both feet into the spring.
1t was not deep, but she was very much
dismayed. Her father and 1 both sprang
forward and soon landed her on dry ground
her muslin dress clingng round her ankles
and one small foot slipperless
BY this time l had discovered that no
less person thnn his grace of c. was
before Inc. This, them was the Lndy Gene
We've. Well, what thenS Was 1 not mn
neutrality-suspicious. title of allp Had |
not right to fish young girls shoe out
OF fountain, even if the foot it fitted
blushed with the blood of hundred earls?
plunged my arm in and brought out the
slipper and presented 1t to the duke.
Many thanks, SIR" he said, bending
down to put it OH the little foot sac held
out. There, you mischevous puss.-A 'hank
this gentleman, md then run to the house
before you get cold"
&c turned to me with n charming little
>CNiSSSy wa gone. IncH Tile uuK0
turned to me, evidently puzzled
Your sleeve Is dripping, sir. May beg
that You will accompany me to the castles"
Willingly, your grace" and held out
my card, which set everything to rights
oh, l see-Mr Estcourt. I am very
glad you have come, sir. Genevieve is wild
about her portrait.
The picture was painted. The Hon.
George Cavendish had long been gone
from the castle whenI put the last touches
to my work. had fingered over it long
lovingly, Mt first; madly, at last-for I.
the poor artist. dared to love tho Lady
Genevicvc, and knew that when my task
was finished l should see her no more
God help me!
l used to wish rs 1 painted day after
day, gazing the while ut the sweet Young
face that always frightened as spoke
how used to wish that she had been born
beneath some humble farmers roof in my
own country-so that l might have wooed
and won her. rs she sang about her house
hold tasks or went ut nightfall toward the
pasture bars, like "Mary o. the Dee"
And how used to groan in agony of spirit
when laid my head upon my sleepless
pillow ut night and remembered that the
wish was all in vain! The duke was away
in London-the duchess, entirely absorbed
in the approaching marriage of Lady
Marian, who was to be presented the very
next season as the Countess of Clan Moch-
foil-and the withered duenna who pre-
sided over the sittings never dreamed of
such piece of mad presumption on my
part. My secret was quite safe.
On the last evening of my stay the serv-
ant was packing my valise, for was to
leave very early in the morning-dinner
was over, but the plea of bad headache
excused my appearance. The sound of
music and voices from the drawing room
came family to my ear. Oh, if the Lady
Genevieve had but been there, how eagerly
would have gone down for one more last
look! felt my eyes growing dim at the
very Thought, and saying to Beri5 that
should take stroll in the park for NV
headache, / went down by a side door and
out to the glade where had first seen her.
The moon was shining glorious yet so
dense was the shade of the cedar trees that
only falnt radiance Quivered round the
spring. stood ut the entrance, listened to
the water falling and felt the solemn gloom.
till suddenly heard voice saying:
BE quiet, Maimee-how dare you to eat
my rosesf"
My heart gave a bound that made me
1alnt-l leaned forward-yes, there was the
shining OF white garments: il was LADY
Genevieve herself, with the fawn beside
her trying to pull wreath of buds from
her brown curls. 1 went up behind her
and spoke-she started violently-but see
ing who 1T was grew calm and made a
place for me beside her. The fawn came
and laid her head upon my knee.
81 thought it was Rogers" said Lady
Genevieve, taking the rosebuds from her
hair, "and dreadfully frightened was.
She always finds me out, but 1 ran away
tonight when she was in the housckeeper's
.hn