conversation, " you are crazy. Refuse Miss Oxley's hand, with two hundred thousand dollars, when you know you can win her- and all on account of this strange whim. In love with a portrait ! I used to think, my dear nephew, you had sense ; but this is a proof of your utter insanity."
"But would you have me marry where I do not love ?"
Now Mrs. Templeton, although a woman of the world, and placing perhaps too great a value on riches, had a good heart. This question for a moment staggered her. But at length she answered frankly. "Certainly not. But then Miss Oxley surely is a loveable girl, and one any gentleman could love." "Here you mistake, my dear aunt. Miss Oxley is a very sweet creature, I confess ; and yet she does not approach my beau ideal. I cannot, therefore, love her. But, in this mysterious portrait, I behold every thing I could look for, since, not only does the mere physical beauty of the face equal my beau ideal, but there is all that evidence of a pure and sensitive, yet lofty soul stamped there, which I should desire. The original of that portrait, I know, is the noblest of her sex ." 66 Why what a rhapsody !" said the aunt with a quiet smile, " but seriously, I should like to see this portrait. Why," she asked a little archly, " didn't you bring it with you ? It's not quite two hundred miles betwixt city and city ; and then, you know, I could have hung it up in my parlor, and advertised all my friends to search for the original—” It is impossible to say how long Mrs. Templeton would have continued in this half teasing way, but at this instant the street bell rang. "Who can it be, at this hour and on such a night ?" said she, breaking short off in her conversation. "Miss Beckett has brought her work home," said the footman, " and she would prefer hearing your opinion of it, if you can afford her the leisure." "Poor child !" said Mrs. Templeton, in a tone of commisseration, " send her up at once. She doubtless wants the money," continued the lady, " or she would scarcely have walked here through all this pelting storm . And she has seen better days too, or I am mistaken. Keep your seat, Edmund,” she said, as her nephew rose to leave, " you can throw yourself in that chair where you won't be noticed ; and besides I wish you to see my pretty sempstress," she continued in a gayer tone, "for I'll stake my new ponies against your hunter that she's quite as beautiful as your portrait. Indeed I know no one who equals her in loveliness, and you are aware there are not a few pretty girls among my acquaintance." Edmund sank to his seat just as the door opened. Not wishing to intimidate the visitor, he did not look up until she had taken her seat and began conversing with Mrs. Templeton. At length, however, he cast his
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eyes toward her. The young lady wore a close cottage bonnet, and as her side was turned toward him he could not see her face. But he noticed that her form was one of exquisite proportions, and that her foot and hand were of the most delicate mould and size. He thought too that he had never heard a voice half so musical ; and when he noticed the thin shawl which she wore, he could scarcely restrain his feelings. At this instant the young lady, not aware that a third person was in the room, turned her face in his direction. He started and uttered involuntarily an exclamation of delight ; for there, exact in every feature and in the expression of the face, was the living counterpart of the UNKNOWN PORTRAIT ! Yes ! it was indeed the beautiful original who sat before him in her surpassing loveliness, seeming more lovely to Moreton's eyes from the obvious penury against which she so nobly strove. We leave our readers to imagine the sequel. The agitation of Moreton forbade concealment, and his words, apparently so extraordinary to the young lady, but which were quickly understood by Mrs. Templeton, soon brought matters to a crisis. She took on herself the explanation, and with the tact and delicacy of her sex, acquainted the agitated girl with sufficient to account for her nephew's conduct. We may suppose that the little family slept, that night, under a warmer roof than they had been accustomed to for many a long day ; but in this matter, with an equal regard to tact and delicacy, Mrs. Templeton only appeared. Alice could not long resist the earnest pleadings of Moreton. One who had loved her so long and faithfully in secret could not fail to make her happy ; and besides her own heart, when she began to see her suitor's good qualities, pleaded powerfully in his favor. Before spring had ushered in her flowers, Alice was the happy wife of Moreton. The portrait, which had first made her known to our hero, had been painted just before Mr. Beckett's failure, and when he became bankrupt he had been unable to pay the artist for the picture. It was sent to the exhibition to be sold ; but as this was in another city no one knew who was represented by the UNKNOWN PORTRAIT.
THE DEATH BED . HER sufferings ended with the day, Yet lived she at its close, And breathed the long, long night away In statue-like repose.
But when the sun in all his state Illumed the eastern skies, She passed through glory's morning gate ALDRICH And walked in Paradise !
