CORE’S RURAL WEW-YORKER 
. 48 
and all the etiquette in the world would not 
have kept her from gratifying that want the 
moment she felt it was there. She came back 
with it presently. So short, a time bad Bhe been 
away. Indeed, that Mr. Lake had not half fin¬ 
ished his survey of the furniture, old and pre¬ 
flood like it teemed to him. 
B icr Lin A placed the portfolio in his hand 
with a prettiness and grace that attracted the 
artist’s attention in an instant, ao perfectly 
natural and devoid of affectation was it. He 
found much to excite his admiration in her 
sketches; in many points she was far stronger 
than he. Being honest in nature, lie told her 
bo; and she, being equally honest, believed 
him. During the rest of the summer they had 
spent a good deal of the time together, had 
wandered in Bearch of new beauties and fairer 
scenes than cither had yet transferred to paper. 
The autumn came at last, and with its chill 
winds drove the artist back to his city home, 
but not until he had obtained permission to 
ask her father's consent that she might accom¬ 
pany him to Borne the next fall, where togeth¬ 
er they would study art where art reigned su¬ 
preme. During lids summer bo had taught 
Berlina how to mix the more delicate shades 
of colors, and had procured from the city the 
finest oil paints foi her, and before the time of 
his departure came she had done two or three 
nice iittlo gems in oil, l,o her own and her 
teacher's perfect satisfaction. 
This all happened while JaCk was away the 
previous summer, and new, when he so much 
wanted to see this Artist and find out for him¬ 
self whether there was any foundation for the 
fear which had disturbed Ids bosom of Bkrj.i- 
na'S falling in love with the artist and leaving 
him out in the cold, he was told by that lady 
that Mr. Lane had written her a week ago that 
it would ho impossible for him to coino until 
late in July. 
CHAPTER I I. 
Jack had been back in the city nearly three 
months when the letter reached him announc¬ 
ing Berlina'S departure for Rome. Much as 
lie wanted bur to succeed in art, there was a 
secret, pang in his hosom at the thought of 
other feet than ids to walk with her along the 
road that led to that success. 11 lie could have 
taken her hand In his and wandered ever by 
her side in search of now beauties forherhrush 
to paint, he would have been only too happy, 
iiut being compelled to remain at home, his 
sun of happiness was tinder a cloud. That he 
loved her well enough to sacrifice everything 
of life for her he was more than sure; but 
whether, after all t he sacrifices he could make 
had been made, the whole would amount to 
even enough to half compensate for t aking so 
troublesome a fellow as himself to look after 
and share life’s" burdens with was with him a 
matter of doubt. 
Of the many letters she wrote to him not one 
was cast aside. They were each and everyone a 
sort, of wayside shrine, to which he bowed 
down in daily worship. “ Ah, dear Jack !” she 
wrote in one of these, “if you could only be 
with me in this grand, old, mysterious city and 
wander with me among its weird, somber- 
looking buildings and st reets! This afternoon, 
or. rather, evening, while the sun is yet high in 
the heavens, Mr. Lank and I have chosen for a 
stroll, or ramble—call it what you will. The 
whole air seems luiptnous beyond anything 
that these eyes have ever seen. The soft, musi¬ 
cal tones of silver hells pervade the air, like 
voices from some far-off world, dreamy and 
ghost-like. As wo stand and look from our 
somewhat elevated position upon the Colis¬ 
eum, with Its thousand arches, there hangs a 
golden mist about, it that makes it seem the 
charmed haunt of some fairy band. It hangs, 
too, Just above the tiles, like the filmy gauze of 
a bride’s veil. 
“ The Castle of St. A ngelo seems translucent; 
one could almost imagine it transparent, were 
it not for the haze that hangs about its further 
side. The statues on St. John Lateran seorn 
made of molten gold, and fill me with an in¬ 
tense desire to obtain one in some way, so that 
I need no longer struggle through the small 
economies of life. For I need not tell you. 
dear Jack, that, one requires a great deal of 
money in Rome. Tho amount that you and I 
used to think quite enormous assumes dwarf- 
like proportions when one has to pay for every¬ 
thing they have done. But never mind; otae 
day I shall wear the artist's crown, and then 
the gold will pour into my coffers in a fearful 
manner. Mr. Lane says that I am succeeding 
beyond his greatest anticipations, and that the 
day cannot be far distant when I shall attain 
to that degree of success which shall make me 
famous. Rejoice with me, dear Jack, that then 
I shall be able to pay off that mortgage about 
which grandma has so many anxious hours. 
“ Mr. Lane desires to be remembered to—my 
cousin, and hopes some day to be honored 
with an acquaintance. Writs me a good, long 
letter, soon. 
*• Yours as ever, with love, Beri.ina." 
" The same odd, impulsive Berlin a aaever," 
said Jack, when he had finished reading the 
letter. At what a rate she does run on, takes 
up one thing and throws it. down os hastily for 
something else that strikes her fancy, as of 
old. Ah, well 1 I’m glad of her success” (here 
followed a deep sigh);” but somehow I can't 
help wishing that Mr. Lane, as she calls him, 
wore not quite so much mixed up with 11. Oh, 
Jack! Jack! troubled a little with jealousy, 
are you? Well, you are not the first, and I 
suppose will not be the last to suffer from | 
that.” 
On the day that he received this letter Jack 
made up his mind that the payment of that 
mortgage would never fall on Behlina. Of 
her father there was not much material aid to 
be expected. He had married again and lived 
in an extravagant style in an up-town man¬ 
sion, and, as Jack supposed, lived out his full 
income. How it was to be done he could not 
as yet see ; bill in some way it must and should 
be done before Behlina came home. lie wrote 
a fair hand ; perhaps ho could obtain copying 
enough to keep him employed evenings. But 
just at the time poor Jack was worrying his 
brain with all sorts of impracticable problems 
there came to him what some people fully 
versed in a certain stylo of language would call 
a “windfall." His employer called him into 
his private office one morning, asked him to 
take a Beat., and then imparted to him the fact 
that for the coming year his salary would be 
increased £500, and if at tho end of it they were 
as well satisfied as at the end of this they would 
Increase it again. 
That night Jack couldn't, sleep. He told 
Bkrlina in day long after, that during several 
nights after this good fortune befell liim, the 
whole room seemed full of £500 notes and he 
couldn't get a wink of sleep. Atthe beginning 
of tho next year ho was equally surprised at. 
having his salary again raised ; not but what be 
expected it would bo In a degree, but the mag¬ 
nanimity of his employers this time was the 
surprise. “A whole thousand, as I'm a living 
sinner,” said Jack to himself, us he thanked 
his employers and went out on his way home. 
11. would be very easy for hirn to pay off that, 
mortgage now on a salary of £2,000 a year, with 
no one but himself to care for. 
About this time Jack received a letter from 
Bkrlina telling him of her success, and that 
she had the very day on which slio bad written 
ids letter shipped to New York a picture on 
which she hud labored nearly a year. It. was to 
remain on exhibition at GotiPii/6 until sold. 
Would he call and =ee It after its arrival ? Per¬ 
haps he would remember such a scene. It was 
an old spring o'orahadowod by nn old oak tree. 
A young girl with a basket of cresses in her 
hand and a wreath of the same about her head 
was laughing at a hoy, or young man- indeed, 
he might have been either—who had evidently 
said something that amused her. ” I have 
mimed the picture ‘ A Daughter of Oceanus.' 
Do you remember such a scene ?" 
Did ho remember? Could he ever forget? 
Had not the first strong emotions of love that 
he had ever known welled into ids heart, when 
the scene depicted in this picture had been 
reality? Then the letter went on in tins vane; 
"It is my intention to rest a few months now. 
Then Mr. Lank and myself will take a m.r>, 
trip among the mountains visit NaplesMibui 
and Sorrento, perhaps—and then! 
we are coming hack to the dear old farm Louse, 
where we will spend the summer at least., and 
you must get leave of absence an 1 join us ; we 
shall be so happy then. Yours, ever. 
“ Bkrlina." 
“ 1 TFc shall be so happy then !’—hang it all! 
Then she really is going to marry, or i« already 
married to that Lane. That ends all my plans 
in life. I don’t care now what comes,” and 
Jack gave himself up to misery for a compan¬ 
ion, as easily as if they had been friends all the 
days of their life. 
CHAPTER III. 
The picture was a grand success, even in 
critical New York. Among artists and lovers 
of art it was especially admired, both for its 
truthfulness to nature, and delieato coloring. 
The figures seemed almost alive, and one might 
fancy as they looked into the cool depths of the 
spring that all they needed to do to slake t heii 
thirst was to stoop arid drink of its purling 
waters. For weeks this picture ovas the lode- 
stone that drew thousands to Gottpils. But 
one day it was withdrawn, and those who came 
to see it after that time were told It had been 
sold to a gentleman who had concluded not l« 
exhibit it any longer. 
It was late in June when Berlin a Dall ar¬ 
rived atthe old farm-house after a three years' 
sojourn in Rome. SLe had changed greatly 
since the day on which JACK had crowned her 
with the wreath of cresses. Then she bad been 
what one might oasily call beautiful. Now 
there was a dignity and grace about her that, 
impressed you with the idea of some hidden 
power within that might enable her to accom¬ 
plish whatever she should undertake. She 
possessed the siupe joyous nature that had been 
hers in those girlish days; had the same liking 
for mischief as ever, and, had it been consist¬ 
ent with tho dignity of the artist and woman, 
would have indulged that liking the very first 
day of her arrival upon grandma, who, now 
that the immediate excitement attendant upon 
her arrival had worn off, had fallen into her 
usual afternoon nap and lay snoring in her 
reclining chair which Jonath an had made ex¬ 
pressly for the old lady’s comfort. 
Mr. Lane had not comb down to Crathton 
yet. Some business ot importance in the oity 
had made it necessary for him to spend at least 
a week there before he could indulge in that 
fairy land of rest and beauty, the quiet of Beu- 
T.tNA's home. Jack had been duly apprised of 
her arrival, and had written her a long letter. 
In which he said something not very dignified 
about being ready to Jump out of his boots, to 
see her—at which Berlina laughed and pro¬ 
nounced it “dreadfully jACK-ish.” “I will tie 
down at the end of the week, my dear," he 
wrote, "and together we will visit the old spring 
once more, and all the old-time haunts. Until | 
then, good-by.” 
There was one thing that bad made Jack feel 
very uneasy, besides the fear that Berlina 
would marry Mr. Lane, if they were not already 
married, as he sometimes permitted himself to 
believe. The lawyer who held the mortgage 
would not listen for one moment to bis pro¬ 
position of paying it off. “He had made a 
solemn promise to*Mias Dall, before she went 
abroad, that, upon no consideration would lie 
allow other than herself to take up that mort¬ 
gage; and bo felt that It was lii^ duty to keep 
that promise,” lie said. “He appreciated the 
motive which Jed Mr. Dall to take this upon 
himself, and hoped that there would no ill 
feeling exist on account of liis refusal.” 
Of course it was a great disappointment to 
Jack. He had so fully determined to surprise 
Bkrlina. and had so carefully saved every dol¬ 
lar that was not needed by him.for the actual 
expense of living. “Well!" he said, ‘what 
can’t be cured must be endured,’ I suppose; 
there remains but one thing for me to do with 
my money. If that picture is within the reach 
of my moans I’ll own it before the going down 
of this day's sun." Saying which he started 
for Goctils at once. The price was two 
thousand dollar* lie was told, upon questioning 
a clerk. “He would take it," was his reply; 
i and proceeded to pay over the money, at the 
I same time giving directions as to where it was 
to be sent. • 
Then he walked out of the store, and slowly 
wended his way down Broadway, stopping into 
different stores to make some necessary pur¬ 
chases ore ho took his departure for Chtthton 
on the following day. " If I can't have Ber¬ 
lina Dali, for my own, I can at least have the 
work of her hands and soul -for I am sure her 
rouI is in that picture -and her own fair face 
just as she looked that day when my love first 
■ asserted ilsi-if for her. Ah! if thou” . Tbc 
rest of the sentence was lost amid sighs. 
Just as tho golden sun was sinking behind the 
mountain in the far-off west Jack Dall dawn¬ 
ed once more on Crathton. This time he came 
by rail instead of by his favorite way—on horse¬ 
back. There wan no laughing girl to meet him 
on the road and chat gaily with him as of old. 
He reached the old gate. How many times, in 
those long ago days, he had seen Berlina 
swinging there. 1 i is hand was upon the latch ; 
in a moment more he would lift, ft—soon ns ho 
hud ceased this train of thought that the loom 
of his brain was weaving and interweaving for 
him. 
Suddenly a clear, ringing laugh fell upon his 
car, and raising his eyes bo saw a woman of 
rate loveliness coming down the long walk to 
meet him. She was dressed purely in white; 
even the ornaments she wore at her throat and 
in her ears were white and sparkled in the sun 
like snowdrops. In her hair she wore a cluster 
of lilies of the valley, which, by way of contrast 
with its glossy blackness, worked a wondrous 
and beautiful effect. 
“Oh, Jack! How glad T am to sec you, you, 
dear, good-for-nothing old fellow. Why, I've 
had a positive hunger for the sight of you, aud 
a longing to hear your voice once more, as in¬ 
tense as any degree of hunger could be.” 
And here she laughed again, not quite the old 
laugh. Jack thought—a little more musical per¬ 
haps, but her whole soul was in it; it was not 
tainted with affectation. Into the old parlor 
they two once more walked. There had not 
been much change there since they had last 
met. Grandma had decided to have her chair 
drawn into the parlor this day, “so that she 
might receive Jack in state, now that the mort¬ 
gage was paid, and she could reaiiy feel that 
the place was hers.” “ She welcomed Jack 
once more homo," she said—” more home now 
than ever " Indeed, she thought all that would 
be needed now to ensure her perfect happiness 
for the rest of her life was to feel that hence¬ 
forth they would dwell together in the old 
home until death should claim her. 
That evening, after the sun had gone down 
behind the hills, and the soft gentle, hazy 
twilight was all about them, Berlina and 
.Tack went once more down to the old spring. 
Fur more than an hour they sat there gazing 
into its cool depths, as they had so often done 
in tho past, and talking of the successes and 
failures that each had met with during the 
years of separation. Jack told her of his un¬ 
successful attempt to pay off the mortgage, and 
the sorrow it has caused him. 
" Why. you dear fellow. I foresaw that you 
would do that very thing, and so I prepared for 
it accordingly. Tf you had succeeded in paying 
off that mortgage you would also have suc¬ 
ceeded in making mo miserable all the rest of 
my life. It has been one of my pet schemes 
ever since the first time I heard gTandma griev¬ 
ing because grandpa had not attended to it 
before his death." 
Then she spoke of her wonderful gift in 
painting, and how that in the future she not 
only hoped to attain fame, but wealth. “The 
picture I sent to GotrpiLS, JACK, sold for two 
thousand dollars; and before 1 left Rome I had 
disposed of more than five thousand dollars 
worth of paintings cf smaller size. Mr. Lane 
says I'm a perfect wonder to him." 
Mr, Lane! A touch of the old sting came 
into Jack s heart, just then, Weil, of course 
it would all be as lie had said. Berlina and 
Mr. Lane would he married soon, and his ship, 
rich freighted with love, would become wreck¬ 
ed on the bar of dispair. Oh, God! how could 
he bear this ?” 
“Mr. Lane is intending to open a studio in j 
the Cooper Institute in New York, and perhaps 
I shall share it with him, though I have not | 
wholly decided yet as to that. He will be mar¬ 
ried early iri October, and after a short visit to 
his friends in Vermont, will return and settle 
down in New York.” 
"Andvou, Berlina ! Willltbeyouheweda?" 
“ Me 1” 
“Oli!" if you could have heard the laugh that 
followed so close upon that exclamation. 
“ Why, bless you. Jack, no ! Mr. Lane was en¬ 
gaged to a lovely little Brooklyn lady long be¬ 
fore he ever met me. He has only been waiting 
until he felt that, he could really afford such a 
luxury—and—and—I don’t believe—hti—ba—ha- 
I don't believe be has ever had such a thought— 
as wanting mo l" 
“Berlina”— the hope of a whole lifetime 
was in tue tone in which that name was utter¬ 
ed—“7 ‘irant, you —More than I can tell you in 
mere words. God only knows bow great that 
want lias been. Berlina. my heart belonged 
to you from the hour you stood before me 
crowned with the wreath of cresses that I wove 
for you. Since then you have been my one 
hope. I bought that picture, Berlina, fearing 
that I had lost you. It seemed as if it might 
prove a panacea for many a pain to have this 
always where I could gaze on it." 
She came over to Ids side then, nnd after a 
moment said : “If you want me, Jack, I am 
yours. I never had any other thought but that 
In some way God would bring us together, for 
during all the time that, has passed since that 
day at the spring my want, has been as gre*it as 
yours. It lias seemed to me at times as if I 
could almost break away the barrier which so¬ 
ciety lias thrown between woman and her 
heart’s best love, and offer myself in marriage 
to you; but I thought—if bo should not love 
me, the humiliation would he too great, for me 
to bear; and so my lips have refused to utter 
what my heart longed to have you know.” 
“Then all the fearsof the past have been but 
Utopian, after all. Thank GOD/or this hour in 
which the one hope of my life is not denied 
me.” 
Together, arm in arm —heart beating in time 
with heart—these two walked back to the old 
house. Neither spoke. There is a time when 
words are meaningless; but the silent pressure 
of the hand, or tho deep drawn sigh, speak 
more than volumes. It was this holy hour with 
them ; let none but God know the thoughts of 
their hearts. 
Mr. Lane came down at tho end of the week 
aB he had promised. He manifested no sur¬ 
prise when told that on the day of his marriage 
there would be another wedding, and that 
henceforth Berlina and Jack would walk 
life's paths, be they thorny or smooth,together, 
i Ho had understood from the beginning that if 
| ever Berlina Dall became a w ife, she would 
not have to change her name; that there was 
but one roan in the world who could hope to 
claim the royalty of her love, and that was 
Jack. 
" I have a present for you two,” said Mr. Lane 
one day when they were planning where the 
picture Jack had purchased should hang. “Its 
acceptance will probably decide as to where 
this picture should lie placed, and is a fit com¬ 
panion for it, save that it does not compare 
with it as a work of art.. It is the picture of a 
young girl perched high upon an old well- 
sweep, in an attitude of perfect ease and rest, 
r painted it expressly for a wedding gift to the 
original, ami have named it ’Yucuna.’ Dost 
like the picture ?” 
“I think the original will have to accept. 
How funny it must have Beemed to you to find 
me in such a position. But I was as free aB a 
bird then, you know, and did just about as I 
pleased. Now that 1 have consented to let 
tiiis man become my master’’—pointing to 
Jack—” I suppose I shall have to give up all 
such delightful enjoyments as climbing old 
well-sweeps in search of rest,” 
Beri.ina and Jack were married on the same 
day as Mr. Lane; but their weddings were 
quite different. Mr. Lane was married in a 
city church, surrounded by richly dressed 
friends, and afterwards gave a grand reception. 
Berlina had her way in regard to tbelr mar¬ 
riage. She declared that it had long been a 
plan of hers to be married down at the old 
spring, and unless she had the full consent of 
Jack to be married there—on the whole she 
did'nt believe sbe would be married at all. Of 
course Jack did give his consent; for just at 
the close of that lovely day, the clear voice of 
the man of God made these two one,—and as 
he pronounced a blessing upon them a bird in 
the old oak overhead trilled forth Us sweetest 
notes, as If it too w ere blessing them. 
To this day it remains an unsettled question 
between Berlina and Jack as to which of 
them really paid off the mortgage. She declares 
that it was his money, and he declares it was 
her picture. But as the simple declaration of 
a thing does not. settle a dispute we shall have 
to leave the matter for those who are better 
versed i:« the intricacies of cause and effect to 
decide. One thing Is certain; they intend mak¬ 
ing the old farm-house their future home, so 
that grandma’s last d iyawl 11 be,her best. Ten¬ 
derly cared for and loved, she wilt go gently 
down the slope of years that lead to the River 
of Life, where an ai gel hand will lake that 
which her loved ones of earth will yield into 
its keeping, and lead her still on until she shall 
see the Master’s face, and listen to His voice; 
when beatitude shall be hers forever. 
-*-♦-*- 
A reallt great man Is known by three signs 
—generosity In the design, humanity in the ex¬ 
ecution, moderation In success.— Bismarck. 
