The Secret of Whitmore Chase.

Hawke's Bay Times, Volume XII, Issue 521, 28 October 1867, Page 1

The Secret of Whitmore Chase.

A TALE OF ENGLAND k AUSTRALIA, j i By R. E. Lee, Author of “A Tangled Skein.” VTKtTtKN FOE THE HAWKE'S KAY WEEKLY TIMES. The right of translation is reserved by the author. S ) CHAPTER XVIII. j “ IN’ MEMORIAM.” his encounter with Beecham I A Whitmore, Luscombe remained true ; % to his assertion that the disastrous j ter, nihati( n of Philip’s career would: ■? prove a warning to him. lit fur-' \ * 1 sook his usual convivial hainiis,' A yy— and paid more attention tliaa formerly to; { \ his artistic studies, greatly to the asbrni-h- 1 1 inent of his acquaintances, who were unable to! account for the sudden change. I The eiToct of this alteration was soon peroepti-j ble in the progress he made. He really had shown | already all the qualifications necessary for a good 1 artist, save the most indispensable one of all—! application; and, as is not unfrcqueutly the case with such individuals, he went from one extreme' 110 the other, working so hard that several of him ifriends sagely opined that some uusuccessfid lovej Unfair had spurred his ambition, and rendered him i (resolved to show the fair one that he had a less 1 disdainful mist ress in Art. j Luscomb,', hud already passed the Rubicon of (young painters—an insane attempt to perpetrate “ The finding of Harold by torchlight,” or sumheavy subject of that kind, ou canvass by a mode-, irate computation twelve feet by six. lie had also (forsaken the other extreme ; the first sight of I 1 >yckman’s “ Blind Beggar” caused him to consign his “ Gipsies” and “ Aged Mendicants” to the, (limbo of forgotten things, and he was hard at (work ou a small picture well suited to his particular/or/c. The subject was Scott’s famous ballad, “ Lochinvar,” and it being on the eve of completion, a knot of friends were assembled to pronounce upon its chances of seouring a favorable reception from the. hanging Committee of the Acum-my. The picture was certainly excellent. Luscombe had selected the precise moment when the hero, with

wun “ One touch to her hand, and one word in her car,’ astonishes the “ Gnomes of the Netheiby claiTj by depriving the luckless expectant of the Indy, j Luseomb,; waited wit It sumo anxiety for the opinion ] of his friends. Ha had refused to admit any of them to his rooms during its progress; anil he knew tint however forcibly they might eloT.-j their criticisms, they woalj view his elfort in the] s ime light as the higher tribunal with w.ki.a its admission to the walls of the Royal Academy re- ! mained. 1 He was not left long in suspen-'’. “By Jove.” exclaimed one, “ you’ve done it this time, old fe!-i low. and no mistake. Not that 1 think there might : not be an improvement made,” lie added, saga-i ciously, “you could fill up that corner with—say ( a deerhound.” 1 “ Pooh ! the thing is complete,” returned another, “ anythin! added or taken away will spoil it. I congratulate you, Luseomhe, you will h ■ what your suffering tailor has prophesied—well hung—-this time.” “ I am glad you like the picture, Calvert,” said Luseomhe, rather nervously—it was his first finished attempt—“ I confess I had some doubts—” “Sniff,” returned Calvert, “each figure is perfection: but the one I like best is the unfortunate bridegroom, “ dangling his bonnet and plume, though he is rather too handsome. I eouhl almost swear I have seen the very individual somewhere.” This caused the others to examine the features more closely ; and one of them uttered an exclamation of surprise. “ iVUat’s the matter, Lowe?” inquired Luscorabe. “Well, I recommend you to go in for the Lawrence and Grant business, after thi.-,” exclaimed Lowe. “I never saw a more striking likeness in my life.” “Then you recognize it P” asked Luseomhe. “ Recognize it?” ejaculated Lowe, “but mind Whitmore doesn’t cut up rough at the lib-rly you’ve taken with his frontispiece. It’s sph-udid ; ' just the irresolute expression ho generally wore.” I “To tell you the truth,” replied Luseomhe, “I . was thinking a great deal about Thilip while } painting; and I suppose my rctiec!ions on his uu- . decided character helped to fix him on the can- ( vass. I did not take particular not.ee of the re- ■ semblance until the profile was complete, and I I I did not like to alter it, as I thought the expression 1 rattier good.” 1 j “You would have made a serious mistake if von 11had done so, returned Lowe, “ I question whether, i j it’ you tried all your life, you could paint a better s|face. But speaking of Whitmore, do you know .iwhat became of him? We have always imagined I you wore in the secret, but you have been so awfully mummified lately that pumping you was out of the question. He bolted with New.cumbe’s ■ little girl, didn’t he ?”

“ Who told you that?” asked Luseombe hastily. “Mum's the, word,” replied Lowe, looking preternaturally wise, and laying his forefinger at the side of his nose, “from inquiries made in tin* neighborhood,” as the pcnny-a-linc.rs have it. Come, old fellow, as a reward for our pronouncing your performance a success, be jolly for once. Send for some malt, and spin us the yarn.” Luseombe complied with the request, for the beer, but said, “ I really can tell you n thing of Philip's proceedings, though I believe he has left the country; but as it is no business of mine, I never bothered myself in the affair.” “ Still tongue makes a wise head.” rejoined Lowe, not heeding the allusion,” you see I have often wondered where our Duke of Shoreditch, our master of the revels, had gone ; and really it is not fair to his former subjects to conceal the j fate of their sovereign,” “ I hare already told yon I know nothing iff the matter,” rejoined Luseombe, rather irritated. “ I may have a surmise, certainly, but even if I knew the story, I don’t think it would gain bv repetition.” “Well, ecu revoir , old boy,” said Lowe, “‘if you won’t, you won’t, and (here’s an end ou’t.’ Don’t be frightened at the prosper' of encountering the old Minos of Trafalgar-sqnare. I think your name will be in this year’s catalogue ; ” andj

disgrace liis visit by leaving any hucl-tap,” Lowe left the room, followed by the others. The days intervening before his knowledge of the sort of recentioa his rucure would get. w■ r■ * product |vf> nf great suspense to Luscombe. He felt (that he could nut paint better ; that if this work [was rejected he could soar no higher ; and lie also

lilil.’S U\L'lil‘.iud, lint JJjfliU’lMtl fit'CiSiuit ui Hit; YAmimitten is a just one, considering the limited space at their command. Great, therefore, was ios joy still gre Ter when he found it in the place, of all others he would have chosen for it (between a pair of lamb,‘apes I. —the peaceful toning of winch gava fine relief to the bold coloring of bis own work. Luscombe’s friends were so pleased at ins success, and manifested their pleasure so heartily, that be could not keep them away from his rooms ; which became a regular lounge for them while the exhibition of the pictures lasted. “ I say, Luscombe,” exclaimed Lowe, instil;, entering his friends rooms im the last day of the exhibition, i: old Megsou wants you up at the Academy immediately.” Luscombe started. '‘Old M’gsou,” as Lowe irreverently termed him, was a by-goue light of the Academy. His “ Ulys-es astonishing Polyphemus” had made him an U.A., though scurrilous jesters pronounced the picture ‘‘all my eye.” Still, the old man, by virtue of being one of the forty,” exercised great influence, and was regarded ;with proportionate dread by aspirants. “AA’bal’s up now I” asked Lnscoruhe. } “ Countess iu disguise,-—woman in black, — have pit*!’.!re at any price,—spooivy on artist, &<•.. kc, replied Lowe, who was wont, when he had been imbibing, to patronise the Jingle style of ; conversation. [ Luscombe could, get nothing definite out of him ; so, leaving his visitor to make free with the congem < of the eheffonier, ne hurried to the Aca-ph-my, and wmit str tight to Megsou. ! “Hal Air I.u-MM-aV,” said that individual, The Committee h r.c received an application ifn.m a lady re-p-etina your picture. Me re;turned an answer T> the cll'cct that you did not (wish to sell it; hut wo hail n reply, otiering I what I cunsi.lt remark- b!y liberal terms —especially for a first product ion.” he added—as who should s-iv--e- Yon see before v-.u one win) has sold acres of canvas, don’t be abashed.’’ Luscombe was not in the least abashed, lie entertained a secret contempt for Megsou ; a [leaven of bis Prc-liapbarbte mvjialiees si ill clung !to him, ami he answered, “I wi-h to keep the Inicture ; as my first success. I ’nave no desire to i part witli it. Still, of coarse, I cannot but (eel | ihitlered at any one lining desirous of purchasing i it. AA'hat was the oiler r ” “ Let me tell yon, young man,” rejoined Mog-

son, 11. A., it, will lint do to s-.ow sncli nn j independent spirit. I never dreamt ul’ siteli a j tiling ns refusing a fair odder for my early pm-j ,1 net ions,” which was perfectly true; ids tirsi two] subject s, after cn>:!:i„’ ten months lahonr, having ■ realised the remarkable fancy price of twelve guineas. “ Yon will allow me. to he the host judge of my own affairs,” readied Lnsemti'je. iiatigblily, “ I am ; not dc" lent on my inva-'--i on, and can afford to indulge my independent spirit.’ Ah-ga-on’s 'manner chaagv.l— we are all sad doidies. “ I lam, of course that niters the case,” .die sail. “ However, the offer was so very hand- - some for an unknown artist —a hundred guineas is . really. - ’ “A. hundred guineas'.” ejaculated Luscombe, in surprise, lie had mentally rated his picture at , a f mrlli of that amount. "A hundred guineas,” repealed Meg*on. gravely, . “ 1 tidnk vou ought to nog with il ; the figure ids very high, and sueh a pi iee may have a good pe.i'eet on your fe.'are works.” i; ' I cannot alter my determination,” replied . 'Luscombe ; “ to tell you the truth, I have a par’itienlar reason tor retuining tlie picture.” Ilis reason was that he felt rather annoyed at

driving introduce! Philip’s portrait. Had there been time to do so before the exhibition, he would have altered it ;as it was,he determined to change the features of the luckless bridegroom before disposing of it. Alegson of course could ’do no more than express his regret at Luscombe's decision ; ami the latter returned to his rooms, speculating ujv.ui the lady who had offered such a liberal sum. for his painting. living young, and an artist, he was slightly given to bait,hug ch.:‘ra:'.r ( P £s/><r;/)ie; and Ills reflections were rather of (he rose-enlorod order. That evening he had determined to depart from his seclusion so far as to give a supper to his brethren of the brush, lie had been, as Lowe expressed it, “fairly bullied” into doing so by that w-.irtby and bis colleagues-, and a jovial party assembled in bis rooms, having a dash of (lie I'-die-mian in them ; and prepared to enjoy themselves. To this end they were industriously pulling attheir short pipes, wbi’e in the adjoining room Lus- ; combe's man Je-ii, “halier, valet, and iootman in all,"’ was laying the table for the feast, a task from which he was summoned by a rap at the “ oak.” After answering the knock, he went into Itlie, inner room, and told Luscombe that a lady ami gentlemen wanted to see him. p “ Woman in hl-tek, for a thousand,” remarked I Lowe, as his friend left the room, j Luscombe found his visitors to bo an old gentleJman am! a lady, dressed in deep mourning, and , wearing a thick veil. “ May I ask,” began Luscombe. , The lady raised her 'veil, and Luscombe exclaimed, in astonishment, “ Airs "Whitmore ! ” (To hr /■(■■ifi'innl.)

The Bendigo Independent sajs: - An amusing practical joke came oil at A.yei’s Creek diggings a lew evenings ago. A new arrival in the shape of a buxom young lass, having caught the eye of a well known knight of tine knife, lie at once proposed a kind of union which was to be all for the better and none for the worse, which she indignantly refused. At a subsequent pcrio't, however, of the same evening lie was informed that she had changed her mind, had accepted his proposal, and was waiting for him in his tent. His knighfship, steaming with punch, hurried horacwar.ts, where he found a good fire and a well swept floor, hut no 1 ;ss vi ns v ir iblc, alt hough t here were nnmisiakeable signs of heavy breathing in Ibis bed, ‘She knows what comfort is,’ he jsaid to himself. By and bye, the overjoyed would-be bridegroom proceeded to inspect the sleeper; but judge what bis disappointment must have been when he discovered one of his own well-fed sheep tied and covered among the blankets.