Pine Bluff daily graphic., 1899-01-31

"Er-Nfiss Sitvertown tells me that ] she has a slight headache to-day, and would rather not give me her last sit ting"
 The stress he laid on the word "last'' disarmed Lady Silvertown's suspicious, and he took his leave, to make his way home to Camden Town, walking on 1 air.
 Arrived at his garret his heart sank Within him. Camden Town seemed q long way from Park lane
 In thinking over the future he thought of the past; of his father, who mad died some years since, an unsuc- eessful, eccentric, struggling artist; of ms mother, who, his father told him, dled soon after he was born.
 One memory awoke another till in his mind he identified his mother with q picture that used to lean with it's face against the wall of his fathers studio.
 He remembered how on his sixth birthday he had turned this canvas around to the light, revealing the face of a beautiful woman wonderfully painted by a master hand.
 The eyes had seemed to look out of the canyas at him with q loving gaze, and he remembered we'll how he had kissed the full, smiling lips, crying "Mother!2 to the painted representa- tion.
 He remembered how his father, hear ing his cry, had rushed into the studio. and for the first and last time had laid hands upon him in anger, seizing him by the shoulders and throwing him yio- iently across the room so that he struck his head against the easel with blow that stunned him.
 He recalled his awakening sensations how he found his father hanging over his bed, with a white, scared face, Wfinging his hands and crying, "I have killed him have killed my boyp'
 Poor old governor, Tam afraid he was a bit off his head" murmured Jack, as he pondered over these old memories. q wonder what he did with that pietureY'
 Then came memory of q glimpse through a half-opened door as he lay in bed, sick and dazed from the blow. His father had the picture on the easel and had painted quickly over it.
 Jack rose and strode over to q pile of old sketches that lay against the wall.
 One of these he selected without hes itation, and, taking his palette knife, scraped carefully.
 There was q picture below the rough
 landscape!
 Stimulated by this discovery, Jack went eagerly to work, and in the course of q few hours he removed the upper painting entirely.
 By Millaisr' he gasped, as the fam liar initial of the master appeared in the corner.
 He gazed long and lovingly at tho face. He knew by it's likeness to him, self that this was his mother, this beautiful woman
 Hastily wrapping up the picture, he carried it off to MT. Broadbean, to seek his advice as to the completion of its cleaning.
 Mr. Broadbean was in his shop. He greeted Jack with q friendly nod.
 T want you to look at picture for me MT. Broadbean."
 "Ghuck upr' replied Mir Broadbean, affably
 Jack cut the string and threw bacl: the paper.
 'Tt's the missing Millais!'' ejaculated Mir Broadbean, starting back.
 Excuse me- replied Jack, politely; Git is Millais."
 ''Why, I've been on the lookout for that picture these twenty years So has every picture dealer in England, answered MT. Broadbean. And you say it is your fatherY
 William Chatteris, landscape paint er."
 MT. Broadbean raised his glasses with q shaking hand. He looked at the picture, then at Jack.
 "A wonderful likeness" he murmur- ed. "You say that your father was William Chatteris, the landscape paint err" he added aloud.
 ''Yes."
 ''Is your mother still alive?"
 'She died when I was baby"
 ''Are you certain that this is her DOT trait?"
 Quite"
 Mir Broadbean leaned his face in his hands for some seconds; then he spoke. "See here, MT. Chatteris," he said, "I do not wish to pry into any of you fam fly affairs, but 1 will tell you the his. tory of this portrait. It was painted thirty years ago by Millais. The lady IS the duchess of Wessex, and is still" 'Aliye?" gasped Jack.
 ''Yes; still alive. The duke of Wes- sex, it is said, was an exceedingly ec- centric and jealous man, and the mar riage was an unhappy one. After violent quarrel he disappeared, to- gether with his infant son and this DOT. trait of his wife. The police have had the case in hand for years, and every picture dealer in the world has been told to look out for the missing Mil lais,' as it is called in the profession. If that lady is your mother she will probably call on me in ten minutes to look at that there Constable. If you are her son I hope your grace will break it to her as gently as possible that you are the duke of Wessex."
 ''Hold on, MT. Chatteris, for heavens sake! Here she isp'
 An elderly lady was descending from 3 carriage which had just drawn up at the door.
 Jack stood rooted to the ground.
 She was q beautiful lady. with tho