The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1903-08-26
CHAPTER xIv.-contlnued.
An Unexpected Visitor.

bout three weeks before the murQer Oh
tugh Tremaine. Frank received a COM
Mission from picture dealer to make a
opy Of a Gainsborough. which he said
as to be found at Tremaine Court.
- It was this commission which took
rank to Tremaine Court not knowing.
{ course, that he should meet Eleanor,
HON, to his infinite regret, he had not
cen for three months. He was assidu
us In his attendance at the National gal
Try every Friday, tho he had long since
assed the stage when such studies were
ecessary. 1t was not for the SAKE of
opying pictures that he was to be seen
mere so constantly. He hoped to meet
ne girl about whom he had drearlt con-
family. He had tried to paint her por-
-ait from memory, but every attempt FELL
short Of the original that he relin
uished his efforts In despair.
The police authorities were told about
he commission to copy the Gainsborough.
his. indeed, was necessary to account
Or Franks presence at Tremaine Court
N the day of the murder. 1t was, in
eed. a piece Of evidence in his favor, but
cotland yard took so little heed of it
hat they did not even to the picture
ealer who had given him the order.
The house In Albert square, homely
nd unpretending as 1t was, seemed to
rank like the welcome of an old friend,
orded him In prison.
- He went at once to his studio, and from
'ehind large picture leaning against the
vail, drew out a much smaller one. It
vas what he thought the best of his at
empts at painting Eleanor's portrait. He
ooked at it with a sad expression in his
yes. and with the vivid recollection of
eleanor as she appeared In court seized
brush to correct that which he now saw
l., Z, i l.
lew strokes and then cast the brush
side as, ....
What on earth is the good?' he NUT
cred to himself half aloud. II am only
ndulging In vain dreams. She Is a mill
fonaire's daughter and I a struggling
rtist who can scarcely keep himself. 1t
absurd. Besides, she must regard me
With suspicion How could she help it?
Yet she said all she could In my favor;
= am sure Of that" q
He uttered a sigh of relief After all
was comforting to think she had not
urned from him In his hour of trial.
II wish I could do something to show
well, I suppose 7 must not say my love.
And yet, why not? I do love her; yes,
~ heaven! I shall always love her"
He looked at the picture on the easel
gain, moved 1t into a more favorable
.spect and, lighting his pipe, sat down
IL
anvas as though it gave him inspiration.
His mind went back to the incident in
<ensington Gardens. How gloriously
handsome she looked then! Who was
he cad from whom he rescued her, he
wondered? But this was a small matter.
Much more important was 1t that he
Ihould track the man who had used his
lame. If he could do that!
He. drew a long breath, and, leaning
onward, gazed fxedly into the eyes Of
he portrait. Whether 1t was imagina :
ion, or due to his not seeing the pic
ure for some time. he could not say, but
here was certainly more Of the real
Eleanor In the face. on the canvas than
lie had ever noticed, before. -E-s - Sr
SPY, Heaven!" he exclaimed, starting
1p.' "It III tracking this scoundrelly forg-
n I also track the murderer Of her faith
,r, that, indeed, would be something tc
earn her gratitude"
There came at that instant a tapping
Ut the door, and in response to his shout
If Come H." the servant entered. 7
"What Is 1t, Nary" he asked.
please, sir, will you come downstairs
A lady" has called to see you"
Putting down his pipe Frank descended
The two flights Of stairs between his
studio and the ground floor, and, enter.
Ing the room, came face to face witt
Eleanor Tremaine
the sadness Of her eyes, Eleanor never
looked more. lovely, so Frank Hol
thought. How her presence lighted W
that dingy room.
This was his first impression, his mex
was wonderment at her being there a
all. For an instant he hesitated wha
to do, how to receive her. He bowed
and waited for her to speak, a strange
thrill creeping over hinl-a thrill he could
not define. Whether pleasurable or thu
reverse he was not able to say.
She looked at him fixedly, and 1T seemed
almost as If her lips trembled. Then
after q pause, she, with an impulsiv,
gesture. held out her hand.
Mr.. Holt said she, in tones which
10 his fancy had In them a throb of pain, %
want to tell you how much I sympathiz
with, you. and how sorry am you hav
been placed In such g. terrible position
Believe me, 1t was not my WISH
your wish, Miss Tremaine? Never TO
one moment have T thought that" h
returned. EFT is good Of you to say yo1
sympathize with me, for I am sure yo1
stand In need Of more sympathy than l.
but 1t Is terrible to have such a charg
brought against one," she persisted.
Eyes" he answered, drawing a loni
breath, that Is true, but I do not re
gret IT.
"You do not regret it?" she repeated
slowly. ~ do not understand"
Perhaps not. I'm not sure that kno,
how to explain myself save that 1t Is tn
cause of your coming hereof your sym
pathy--of-" a&.g.E
He stopped. He scarcely knew what h
was saying. He felt horribly confused
How he intended to finish his stammerin
sentence he knew not He stood befor
her conscious of heightened color, {
looking extremely awkward. Would sh
be offended? He could not say, for hi
eyes were fixed on the ground. Had h
looked upward he would have seen sh
was as much disturbed as he.
You did not, then, expect to see me?
she forced herself to say.
How could I? Why should you wish
see me? Yet I am glad you have callet
because wanted to thank you for whs
you said before the magistrate-not pei
haps your words so much, as your evider
bel1ef all the way thru that I was limo
cent"
II have never said much" she erie,
Il had not the chance, excepting indeed
to the police. They knew what though
You have no cause to thank me. 1t
rather the other way. In the matter {
thanks am your debtor"
He involuntarily raised his eyes to he
face and saw faint glow overspreadin
her cheeks. The eyes were soft almo
- humid
You are my debtor?" said he, questio,
ingly.
Yes. Surely you have not forgotte
that day in Kensington Gardens
The faint glow was now deep blush.
. "Ah!'she exclaimed eagerly, II was 70
tunate then. I trust-tho you may think