Little Falls weekly transcript. (Little Falls, Morrison Co., Minn.) 1894-19??, 1900-07-10
'11'IH|E : Il TRAITS.

|t.S O10tIQGWts 0AGESGE SHOuAO uUVS UScA a
very happy man, and SO he esteemed
himself. Two children - pretty as their
mother played at her knee. They were
90 greatly blessed as were Adam and Eve
In paradise. But even to paradise, as we
remember, there came serpent. So to
Margaret Mercer's home came one day
Elsie Grey, as fair serpent as one could
meet-a woman Of whom one said, look
ine at Ger TOR the FIRST time, She II ~
rood 40 she Is beautifui." She came as
governess for the children, and Margaret,
charmed by her sweet face, made a COM
pact OF friendship with her at once and
was well pleased that Matthew liked the
girl. n ( / W. 4: ~, ..%
That was In December. One day In
June in walked Miss Euphemia Jones
and looked straight into the wet eyes
turned, somewhat Indignantly, upon her.
"Ain't well, eh?'' said the spinster. ~
mot very" said Margaret. "And
tired, you know, and ssr.srS&=%} :s5 81. g.
"And unhappy said the spinster.
Don't tell me. Mrs. Mercer, And this I
say: Get rid Of that there sly boots of q
governess. or you'll hev more reason to
cry than you hev now. Men 10 men. Mira.
Mercer, and your\husband''- H., ! =
|, but Matthew 10 my husband" painted
Margaret. 49, ~. XIII !, Ss. :
i''Then be hadn't ought to go a-walkin
with Miss Grey" said the spinster,
''holdin her hand, too-he oughtn't. But
there's somethin you ought to know-he
oughtn't to so out of town along with
her. We saw them take the cars, l and
Mrs. Thompson. only an hour ago"
Bewitched by the beautiful serpent his
wifc's kind heart had warmed and nour-
ished until it had strength to sting her.
Matthew Mercer had left his home, his
wife and his children for her sake.
Margaret suffered in silence. She re-
solved to earn her own bread for herself
and family, and she met with a great
success.
She could paint, and her first picture
told the tale. so like her own. Of Queen
Eleanor in Rosamond's bower.
,Rosamond was Elsie Grey; Eleanor
had her own features, and the portrait Of
the king upon the wall was that of Mat
thew Mercer.
The picture was on exhibition. 1t hung
in great gallery set off by dusky
proscenium; people went to see it, and it
was admired; critics praised it. A rich
man offered great price for it. And
meanwhile man, threadbare and rusty.
old before his time, with remorse so
stamped upon his handsome features that
child could read it there, prowled often
about the door of the gallery where the
picture hung and looked in along the still,
echoing entrance, at the end of which
the man who took the tickets sat and
read a paper and smoked alternately. At
last he ventured in.
"Look here" he said in sort of shame
faced way to the ticket taker. II want
to see that picture. I haven't any mon
ey, but l knew Mrs. Mercer once. Let
me look, won't you? 1t can't hurt you or
any one"
He walked up to the picture and looked
at it. Then he pressed his hand upon his
forehead and ground his teeth together.
Margaret! Margaret" he muttered.
"Oh, God. Margaret!' And then he sat
down, staring at the picture with eyes
that saw those hkenesses as none other
ever had. g.. ..z.~. = ~ ~ E.,
He sat there still when q. rustic Of silk,
q sweep 81 velvet, the High tones Of
young voices filed the gallery. A wo-
man walked up the room and stood be-
fore the picture-a child by her hand and
a boy behind her.
The man gave one look, dragged bis
hat over his eyes, and covered down
upon the bench, budding himself togeth-
er as a beggar does-seldom any other.
The lady did not look at him, but the
child did. In a moment more it had pull
ed its mothers sleeve. '"There's a man
just like the king" he said: "just such q
beard, mother" And Margaret turned
her head. Then her face grew white.
She took a step toward the man. He
started to his feet.
Matthew" she cried.
He only turned his face away.
Matthew" she said again. did you
come here to find meY
"No," he answered; IL am not coward
enough for that. l came to look at that
picture. knew what should see-that
picture, born of your grief, with the story
of my treachery and your wrong stamped
upon it."
II painted the picture" she said. "Oh.
Matthew! Matthew! l ought not to
speak to you; but you are poor-you are
unhappy
II am as poor as l deserve to be-" he
said. Nothing has prospered with me
since left you"
"You have not asked me to forgive you,
Matthew" she said softly.
"Forgive me, when you have painted
my crime down for all posterity to look
upon" he said. lis it likely? Besides.
you are rich now'-and he looked at her
costly dress-"and I next door to beg
gar"
Matthew" she said, docs that pic
ture stand between us?'
"Your hate-your scorn-that which
gave birth to that picture must" he said.
"Have you penknifeT she asked.
"a penknifeY
Eyes" ... &c..
Perhaps he thought she meant to kill
him. He took it from his pocket and
opened It as he handed It to her and
flung his coat back and stood, AZ It were,
ready for blow. And she, indeed, lift
ed the knife, but the blow fell upon the
picture. upon the painted face Of the
king, upon the golden hair of Rosamond
and the royal robes Of Queen Eleanor
slit and tore them, dashed from the can
vas all the toll of months In few short
minutes. There was no picture left a.
abe turned from her work for critics to
stare at or rich men to buy: but her eyes
aparkled and her cheeks were agiow.
Nothing stands between ~ now,
Matthew" she said. "There II no MEM