Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1898-05-26

longer stay at Rilchester. It ran as
! follows
Dear Mr.. Magnay,-I am so very
anxious TO have portrait of my little
girl. Do you think you could spare
time TO paint her? There is no one
whom | should like better to do It.
Your picture of Lady Worthington's
, little boy, which saw this year at the
, Academy. was perfect.
Bella could give you a sitting at
, any hour; the morning is, 1 think,
her best time, but please suit your
, own convenience Believe me, yours,
very sincerely.
"Chrstabel Mortlake."
That little fair-haired girl, who
looks so cross" soliloquized Claude;
"she viii be difficult subject, in more
ways than one, IL | am not mistaken.
Shall | attempt her, or shall find it
necessary to return to town, and work
up my Scotch pictures? Rather
Sinking. perhaps, still hate painting
spoiled children, and that Mrs. Mort
| lake will be the death of me. How
that poor little Mademoiselle de
sOmething-endures it, | can't mag
| ine snubs at every turn from one
J sister, and sarcasms from the other.
| got her into a scrape myself the
other evening, and never helped her
out which was a shame. Yes, | will
undertake little Miss Mortlake's por-
trait for that reason-the little demoi-
Quixote. And now | think of it, what
lustrous eyes-such a color, too, and
so wonderfully pathetic, and her
quaint little mouth, which looks
somehow as IL the sadness were all a
mistake. The forehead? yes, it is
low, and the hair dark and silky, with
wave in it. She is the very imper-
sonation of what | always longed
to try-Marianna in the Moated
Grange" and he repeated the lines:
After the fitting of the bats,
When thickest dark did trance the
sky,
She drew her easement curtain by,
And glanced athwart the gloom
ing fats.
She only said, The night is
dreary,
He cometh not" she said,
She said, L am aweary aweary,
would that | were dead
Yes; she Ia exactly what l have
dreamed of. I must at least get a
sketch OF her face, though | suppose
il would hardly do to ask her to sit TO
me-"
He drew pencil and paper toward
him, and sketched Esperance's face
from memory but not altogether sue
cessfully. Dissatisfied with the at
tempt, he tore 1t In pieces, and light
ing his cigar, gave himself up to a
deep meditation in which the further
Imagination of Mariana" bore a
prominent part.
After morning service the next day
Claude went to the deanery there to
undertake the not very congenial task
of painting Bella Mortlake's portrait.
Mrs. Mortlake was delighted to have
obtained her wish,
The dear child is quite at her best.
I was so very anxious that she should
be painted now am so glad you can
spare the time Esperance, run and
fetch Bella"
Claude arranged his easel, discussed
size and position with Mrs. Mortlake,
set his palette, waited and fidgeted
but still no Bella appeared At length
a distant screaming was heard, draw
ing nearer. Mrs. Mortlake FASTENED
to the door and listened. Esperance's
voice was heard demonstrating.
Bella, dear, you must come down;
Mr.. Magnay is waiting for you. See,
then, must leave you and call nurse"
No answer but screams.
Mrs. Mortlake hurried to the scene
of action, and Bella was borne into
the dining-room, kicking with all her
might.
Claude shrugged his shoulders, and
glanced at his Mariana" She was
paler and sadder-looking than ever,
and as she stood waiting for Bella
sobs to cease, there was a dropping
hopelessness about her very attitude
which Claude longed to catch. He
hastily sketched an outline, and
watched her varying expression al
most breathlessly.
Bella was sobbing out something
about "Esperance." and Mrs. Mort
lake, without waiting to find what the
real grievance was, turned round with
severity of tone and look quite out
Of proportion even to the imagined
offense
'Esperance, how often must tell
you not to interfere with my manage
ment Of Bella? these crying fits are
far more frequent since you came.
Why do you aggrsvate the poor
child?"
Indeed, Christabel. Bella was cry
ing because she did not want to leave
the nursery | only"