The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1894-04-04
Chapter HI.


she was quite a young woman. she had
had no fixed home. Much of the con-
tinent was as well known to her as
her own country; but of late years her
peregrinations had been mostly confined
within the limits of the United Kingdom.
She was acquainted with numbers of
people at all Of whose houses she was
welcome guest. Her visits among her
friends were varied by pleasant little
intervals of Bohemianism on her own ac-
count when, accompanied by Mitcham,
her maid who had long ago arrived at
years of discretion, she would take up
her quarters for brief while at this
hotel the other boarding house. and
revel in the luxury of making fresh ac-
quaintances, and in studying the whims
and humors Of the heterogeneous mob
of strangers with whom at such times
she was brought into temporary con-
tact
But wherever Miss Wimbush went. on
all her travels both at home and abroad
she was accompanied by one article
which was altogether outside the scope
of ordinary travellers baggage. The
article in question was a picture, pre-
sumably painted by none other than the
great Peter Paul Rubens himself. see
ing that it bore his monogram, with the
-
and was said to be a portrait of the
BurgOmaster Van Troon. it was a we'll
aScertained fact that Peter Paul painted
two parotraits of the functiOnary in
question, one of which was to be seen
any day in a certain gallery at the
Hague. while the other, which was said
TO be the superior of the two, had been
lost sight of for the last seventy or
eighty years; neither had any of the
numerous exhibitions of the last quarter
of century, consisting of pictures
brought together from far and wide,
sufficed to reveal its wherea bouts. Con-
sequently, could it be proved that the
picture Miss Wimbush carried about
with her was really the missing "Burgo-
master" then did she possess a prize
which she might well value and deem
worthy of every possible care.
AS we have learned, however, the ver-
dict of Mr. Piljoy, the eminent art critic,
was wholly opposed to such a belief.
Neither was he alone in his opinion.
which had been backed up by other
connoisseurs of repute who had been
allowed as great favor TO examine the
portrait That it was a forgery, and
of a comparatively modern date, they
We're all pretty well agreed.
Meanwhile, Miss Wimbush went Sc
renely on her way wholly Indifferent
to the opinions of Mr.. PiljOy and his
confreres. The "Burgomaster'' was one
Of several pictures bequeathed her by
her father The others she had prompt
ly disposed of; but the supposed Ru-
bens she had made up her mind to keep.
She knew that her father had had a
very special admiration for it, and had
regarded it as the gem of his small
but choice collection; and for his sake
she determined never to part from it.
unless some unforeseen necessity should
one day compel her to do so.
Therefore was it that wherever Miss
Wimbush went the picture went with
her. it being Mitcham's special and par
ticular duty to look after its safety en-
route from one stopping place to an
other. 1t was enclosed in a mahogany
case, the key OF which the spinster never
let out of her own possession. AS
matter of course. her singular infatua-
ton for what was commonly reported
to be a worthless daub caused her to
be laughed at behind her back; and
Edgar FairclOugh was by no means
singular in thinking that. however sane
and clear-headed Aunt Sarah might be
in all other matters, she was undoubt-
eddy "a little bit cracked" as far as the
burgomaster's portrait was concerned.
On quitting Pendragon Square, after
listening to her niece's tale of woe,
Aunt Sarah was driven to the boarding
house where she was in the habit of TAX
up her quarters when in town. In the sit
ting-room. busy with her needle, she
found Mitcham, whom long years of
faithful service had almost elevated in
to the position Of companion. Miss VIM
bush sat down on the nearest chair, and,
although the evening was chilly one.
famed herself for some seconds with
out speaking. Then all at once she said.
in a voice which was not without
touch of tragic pathOS: "Mitcham, the
'Burgomaster' and / are going to part"
If some one had fired off a pistol close
by Mitcham's head. she could hardly
have been more startled. She gave
half-jump off her chair and great
gasp. Law, ma am. / hope not, I'm
sure" she said. Whatever can have
happened to make you think of such a
thing? / always felt sure he would keep
us company for the rest of our mortal
lives"
Il cannot tell you what it is that has
happened; il is not altogether my own
affair. But there is no other way-none
whatever" Her voice broke little as
she finished spea king. Save for SYM
pathetic sigh Mitcham remained silent.
She was one Of those invaluable people
who know when TO speak and when to
hold their tongue
Presently Miss Wimbush said: Il am
tired. and shall retire at once"
About supper ma'am?' ventured
Mitcham. 1t was her MISTRESS favOrite
meal
pray. pray. don't talk to me about
such things as suppers," quavered the
poor lady. II feel as if 1 should never
If her mistress could have seen Mitch
am three minutes later she would have
opened her eyes very wide indeed. \
broad smile of satisfaction lighted up the
waiting-wcman's usual impressive feat
ures so we shall get rid of you at last
shall We. you ugly, good-for-nothing old
noosance," she said aloud. And pre-
cious radiance, too for I've had sick
ener of YOU, and no mistake"
1t was close upon noon next day when
a cab stopped at the door of Mr.. Hen
ridues, well-known picture dealer
From il alighted Miss Wimbush, to whom
the precious "Burgomaster'' in its case
was then handed by Mitcham. The deal
er and the spinster were already known
to each other. 1t was to Mr.. HenriqueS
that the latter had sold the pictures be-
aueathed her by her father-that is to
say. all save the sO-called Rubens.
"Good-morning, Mr.. Henriques," said
Miss WimDush. as she marched into the
fine art emporium. 1t is some years
since we met. but it is possible that you
have not quite forgotten me-"
II have by no means forgotten you,
madam" replied the dealer with smile
and a deferential bow. The reminis
cences of our last interview were of too
agreeable a kind to allow Of my readily
doing that"
made a very agreeable profit out Of your
transaction with me-"
All har' laughed the dealer softly,
with the air Of a person who has just
been told good joke. and with that he
drew forward a chair for his visitor. He
was a little dried-up man, with a hook
nOSe and very bright. beady eyes and