Strariger than I<iction.
��245
��some warm broili at her earnest solici- tations, I started for a florist's, where I startled tlie good man by my hasty- order of violets and tuberoses, to be arranged in a beautiful design. Need- less to say I received it in due season, and laid it upon the pure white casket, with a loving longing in nriy heart, to which, till ]iow, I had been a stranger. Was I not to be pitied? It was my first love, and she dead?
I was alone in the room at the mo- ment, and I bent and kissed the sweet, pale lips, and hung mourning over the white casket, as though I had a perfect right to so mourn.
After the funeral I returned to my work. I worked night and day for weeks, aye months, and at last the statue was finished, and not one only, for I had made duplicates of picture and statue.
Mr. Travers was more than satisfied, and oftered to pay me any fabulous sum I chose to name ; but I wanted no money, I told him, only some article which had belonged to her ; something she had prized.
He looked at me for an instant in a peculiar manner, and then went to the mantle piece, from which he took a richly and curiously-carved jewel casket.
" Here is a box my daughter seemed to set great store by. I found it in her room to-day, and as it was empty I brought it down here where I could look at it, but as I now have her picture and statue, I will give the box to you." He stepped into the next room a mo- ment, and upon returning handed me the box. I could not ihank him in words, but he could read them in my face.
" I have mislaid the key just for a while. I will find it before you leave. It is a curious looking little casket, and
��quite valuable as a work of art, I beheve."
Upon my departure later he took the httle key from his vest pocket, and pressed it into my hand. On reaching home I put the box upon a pedestal, and the key I hung upon my watch- guard. I touched and retouched that picture. I could have opened the eyes had there been a picture of the girl in existence, but she had destroyed every vestige of a likeness of herself, and stubbornly refused to have another taken, despite her father's prayers. That is the reason he was compelled to resort to an artist's aid, after death.
As I said, I touched and re-touched my picture until I could see no more to do, in my most critical mood, then I framed it, and hung it where you cee it.
But the statue was what absorbed me most. I was wrapt up in that entirely ; you shall see with what cause.
He arose, and going to an alcove, drew apart the amber satin curtains, which hang before it in heavy, gra eful folds, and flung them upon huge hooks at the side.
I assure you Jack, I was startled, for the statue was so perfect it seemed verily to breathe. It was a full life size, of a woman above the average height, of most perfect contour and graceful pose.
She w^as leaning carelessly against a pedestal wreathed wiiti flowers, her clasped hands holding a spray of roses, her eyes downcast. Her arms were bare to the lovely shoulders, and the square-cut dress gave a glimpse of the perfect neck. Over her hair, which hung m rich profusion upon the spotless dress, was draped the same magnificent veil which figured in the picture.
Before the alcove, upon a crimson velvet hassock, stood an immense Ma- jolica bow-l of exquisite, and at that time
�� �
