Year: 1871




, your terms for the treatment of her eyes a
nearly nominal as possible without offend
ing her sense of propriety.'
. should do so most gladly what i
r the lady's name :?


Miss Brayton-Annie Brayton, an
, swered Needham here is her last work
part OF the unfinished order Of which
, spoke He rose and took three or four
: sketches from portfolio, marginal designs
/ for book of poems. See here - ht
: said, holding one Of them in the light
: did you ever see anything drawn with
greater spirit than that cliff with its bold
lines and apparently inaccessible approach,
yet the bit Of irregular wall at the sum.
NIT shows human presence and effort, and
so appeals to the universal sympathy OF
the race. One who could sketch that
must know what it is to be at home among
the mountains


Il like this one particularly, said
Thornton, after pause, although it is
the simplest Of all-this tuft of moss shot
through by spray of scarlet partridge
berries; like it because of the faithful
ness with which it is finished, the evidence
of touch so tender and delicate as to be
almost a caress. | am anxious to see nv
patient


Perhaps there is charm about the
name she bears said Needham, playfully
while DR.. Thornton drew out his watch
and rose to take his leave.


Among the visitors in the ante-room,
when the physicians ofice-door was thrown
open next day, sat a young lady dressed in
deep black. She awaited patiently her
turn for examination, then rose and went
into the inner apartment.


DR.. Thornton, | believe? p she said in
voice singularly clear and musical.
am Miss Brayton will you please look at
my eyes ?


As she spoke she threw back the heavy
veil, whose double folds had protected her
from the light, and lifted toward him-the
face Of the Dresden Gallery The same,
yet not the same ! By the influence of
years of trial, patient endurance, and ear
nest hopeful effort, the ungrouped capa-
bilities Of the girl had been crystallized
into many-sided character. She stood be-
fore him, the perfection Of his dreams, his
own out Of all the world, he thought-yet
he must school himself to the utterauce of
professional common places, while not the
tremor Of a nerve should betray his long
constancy.


1t is only temporary difficulty, Dr..
Thornton p she said with trembling eager
ness.


That depends upon the care you shall
take Of yourself, he answered, gravely !;
as yet there is no organic disease. You
must have strained your whole nervous
system by some kind Of overwork. Only
rest and careful obedience to prescribed
treatment can give you back your eyes


For how long,


. | cannot tell six months at least


The poor girl uttered an involuntary ex-
clamation of dismay, and her lip quivered
for moment, but she controlled herself
by a strong effort.


ought to be thankful for the hope Of
being well at ALL she said YEARLY; but
it seems very long to wait.


The autumn and winter wore on. Miss
Brayton's eyes improved but slowly. 1t
was true that she needed utter rest of
body and mind the former she took Of
necessity, but the latter was beyond her
power. To find her way through the glare
Of the street was a task so trying, Dr.
Thornton forbade it, visiting her at her
home instead Her heart sank at thought
Of the long bill Of charges to come in by
and-by, even while she could not Iepress
Il thrill Of pleasure at the sound of his ia
miliar step. There was the piano as a
last resort, she thought; her treasured
jewels, her fathers gift, had been sold
already to meet the emergencies Of the
present.


Mrs. Brayton's watchful and tender
eyes could not fail to detect the bright
ness which DR. Thorntons lingering call
brought into her daughters face, and
secret trouble grew at her heart which she
would not for the world have put into
spoken words Must a greater grief still
be in store for the young heart that had
labored so patiently and suffered SO nobly ?


One day the Doctor brought basket
Of rare fruit again it was a bunch of hot /
house flowers, fragrant with geranium and
heliotrope or magazine, with passages
marked for Mr. Brayton to read aloud
Indeed, he so succeeded in Intervening
himself with all her few pleasures that it
was no wonder if poor Annie said dozen
times day, How kind of him, mamma? p
with her pale cheek in a glow.


The time came at last when the bright /
sunshine might find its way unchecked |
through the windows. Annie's eyes were
not yet strong enough for her painting, |
but the days Of idle darkness wore past
and she could at least look forward to the |
speedy resumption Of her music-lessons.


You will not need me much longer,
Miss Annie said DR.. Thornton, finding |
her alone one day; shall you be glad p


She did not reply, but he went on, as if
he had not noticed her silence L have |
brought you something quite in your line,
unroling an engraving.


You have seen the original, Miss An
ME-


Yes how did you know?'


The poor student who picked up your
boquet in the Dresden Gallery has re-
membered you too well to be mistaken


A sudden illumination broke over her
face.


Can it be possible p she cried. Now
| understand the strange consciousness L
have often had of having seen you some
where long ago. Here is the lost thread
which has eluded me SO long


Annie said DR.. Thornton, softly, /
since that your face has been with me
always. 1t has helped to subject the
baseness of my nature and lift me toward
all things noble and true. When saw it
again in my room that day dared to hope
that God had given you to me. These few
months of your darkness seem to have con-
centrated all the light of my life. Annie,
have | presumed too much p


DR.. Thortnon house is rich in painting