The Washington times., 1937-12-04

at the wall above. And his breath
came quickly. There it was!
There was the companion por'
trait!
Gazing down at him from the
elaborate gold frame were the
brown, amber-flecked eyes Of a
young woman, and they were
smiling.
Her dark hair was parted in the
center. From her shoulders
slipped the folds of heavy white
satin ball gown, and about her
neck was clasped a slender neck
lace of diamonds.
And beneath the portrait Of her
great grandmother, Sara, stood
sweet Olive, looking like her twin.
She watched Guy as his gaze
wandered to the place where the
other portrait had hung, the paint
ing of her great-grandfather
Tears filled her eyes, and she
held out her hands in a little
gesture of defeat.
Guy understood the treasures
with which she had parted to buy
necessities for her grandfather
and herself, the lengths to which
she had gone to keep the mansion
and a roof over their heads. And
the little drama she played, day
after day, so that the old man
would never know.
Guy saw him wave his cane
now in the general direction OF
the mantel.
"The two portraits by Audubon,
sub, are those above the fire,
place. The one at the left is that
of my mother, Sara Jasper, paint.
ed in white satin gown that my
father bought for her in Paris on
their wedding trip.
The diamond necklace was his
gift to her. She was a very beau
tiful woman, sub, and Sweet Olive
looks just like her. Oh, know I
cannot see, but somehow I know
she does"
Guy spoke. "It might be her
own portrait, Mr.. Jasper" he said.
"The resemblance is startling"
"I thought So" replied the old
man. "And there, sub, looking at
her is her husband, my father,
also painted by Audubon.
"The two pictures have always
hung there, side by side. ]
wouldn't part with them for any.
thing in the world"
FRAGRANT FLOWER
1--WE wondered, sir" Guy said,
staring at the bare spot where the
portrait had once hung, "about
that flower in your fathers lapel.
I've never seen a blossom like that
before. What is it?"
The old gentleman smiled.
why, that's a bit of sweet olive
the same sweet olive you were ask
ing about" he answered.
my mother was always putting
it in his buttonhole, sub. It has
a heavenly fragrance, you know.
That's why I call Sara, here, my
grandchild, Sweet Olive. ,"
The aged colored servant came
to wheel his master out into the
garden. It was time for a mint
julep, Mr.. Jasper explained, and
invited his guest to join him.
But Guy fingered in the duSky
shadows of the drawing room. He
went over to the girl, still stand
ing beneath the portrait, and who
spoke in a low voice:
"You may have the picture of
my great-grandmother, to go with
the other, if you wish to buy it"
she said. It must sell it, too. I
have just been-just been putting
it Off"
Guy took her hands in his. II
want the portrait, Sweet Olive" "
he said, "but it must always hang
here in this room. And the other
picture, the one Of your great
grandfather must come back to its
place, too.
"Those two must always be so,
looking at each other with love.
down through the years. This is
their home. They must never be
Darted again"
His eyes roamed the room.
Young Sara looked at him with
dawning comprehension.
II believe you love all this, too, }"
she said softly.
"I have never seen Cherry Bough
Vale until today" he answered,
"yet I feel, somehow, as though it
were part of me, as though 1t
would always be part of me. And
you," he smiled down at her, "you
are the missing portrait, you are
journeys end"
They stood thus, hand in hand,
looking in each others eyes. And
from her gold frame on the wall
the lovely Sara of another day, an
other romance, smiled her blessing
THE END