Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

MARCHING IN.

ON THE OCCUPATION OF THE CITADEL BY THE FIRST CANADIAN GARRISON.

[blocks in formation]
[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors]

MARGUERITE KNELLER, ARTIST AND WOMAN.

CHAPTER IV.

BY LOUISA MURRAY.

MARGUERITE AND HER FATHER.

CHR

'HRISTIAN Kneller was of German parentage, but he had lived nearly all his life in Paris and, for many years, was well known there as a rich and enterprising print-seller and publisher. One day a pale delicate looking Englishman entered his shop and offered some very clever sketches for sale at a price much below their value. On enquiry Christian Kneller found that the stranger was an artist of great, though peculiar and fantastic, genius who had come to Paris in the hope that his works might meet more appreciation there than they had received in London. Proud, sensitive, shy, he was altogether unfitted to contend with the difficulties which always lie in the way of those who have to create the taste to which their works appeal. One disappointment after another crushed his hopes and energies and weakened his health. In despair gave up the struggle, and was now dying of consumption brought on by anxiety and privation: compelled at last to sell the sketches and designs on which he had built his hopes of fame for whatever scanty sum the picture-dealers and print-sellers chose to give for them, or to see his wife and child perish with hunger. Christian Kneller's interest was excited by this sad story, and still more by the dying painter's faithfulness to his ideal of art in spite of the ignis fatuus it had proved to him. bought the sketches at the price they really deserved, not that which the artist's necessities had set upon them, and made every effort in his power to serve him. He found purchasers for the works lying neglected in

he

He

the wretched lodging to which the poor artist had been driven, and would have got him fresh commissions had he been able to

execute them. But nothing could now restore Edward Hervey's failing strength; he sank rapidly, and died in a few weeks, comforted by the thought that his wife's last days-for she, too, was dying,-would be cared for as his had been, and his child adopted as a daughter by their kind and generous benefactor.

Before many days Christian Kneller laid Madame Hervey beside her husband. He had now to provide a home for the little one thrown on his protection, and her nurse Monica, a simple, affectionate Norman woman, who had taken care of the child from her birth, and would have endured any hardship rather than be separated from her darling.

"Oh, be kind to Monica," said Madame Hervey, the last time she saw Christian Kneller, "be kind to her, and never part her and the child. She has been a good angel to me and mine, and though God will reward her whether man does or not, you to whom He has given so many gifts and, above all, the will to use them nobly, must let Monica also feel your goodness."

"Ah, le bon Dieu! I want nothing," exclaimed Monica, "except to be always near the little one. I would have worked my fingers to the bone, before she should have known want, but she has found a better friend than I could ever be, and all I ask now is leave to stay with her."

"Do you think I could be so cruel as to deprive her of her second mother?" said Christian Kneller. "Certainly, you shall stay with her and, as far as it rests with me, you shall never be separated."

So after Madame Hervey's death Christian Kneller sent Monica and her young charge to board at a convent where, for ten years, they lived a peaceful and happy life, only varied by visits from their kind benefactor. The lovely child of six had then grown into a beautiful young woman, and the Lady-Superior of the convent had already dropped many hints as to the future destiny of Mademoiselle Hervey ; at last seriously assuring Monsieur Kneller that it was time to provide her with a suitable fiancé, if he was determined not to allow her to adopt a religious life, for which the piety and sweetness of her disposition so well fitted her. This last suggestion thoroughly roused and frightened Christian Kneller. Though a Catholic, he was a cool and philosophical one, and he would as soon have permitted this young girl to be shut up in a prison as in a convent. To take her from thence before a husband was provided for her would, in the Superior's eyes, have been a heinous offence against the convenances of society; and where was a husband to whom he could fearlessly trust her fate to be found? Resolutely putting aside, as he believed, every consideration but the true welfare of his protégée, and the way in which that could be best secured, after days of anxious thought, he at last-with a degree of hesitation and uncertainty of manner so different from his usual straight-forward self-possession as almost terrified Mademoiselle Hervey out of her wits-asked her to be his wife. Under the circumstances, he scarcely expected to meet with a refusal, but his surprise was almost as great as his joy when he found that to her loving and grateful, heart all the happiness of earth seemed combined in the position he had offered her. Taught by the good Monica to reverence him as the noblest and best of men, full of gratitude for his kindness to her parents, and the great debt she herself owed him, the affectionate and enthusiastic girl loved him with a depth and sincerity which could hardly have been greater. Her simple, sin

cere nature understood and appreciated all his good and admirable qualities, and scarcely could a young knight of romance have been better loved by his fair lady than this homely tradesman, nearly fifty years old, by this beautiful girl of sixteen.

This pure spontaneous love, so freely and artlessly given to him, brightened and beautified Christian Kneller's whole life which till now had been, though a prosperous, a somewhat joyless one. All the tenderness of his nature which, from want of a fitting object to draw it forth, had hitherto lain latent, was now called out. Now he had found some one whom he could make happy, and whose sweet and gentle disposition at once twined itself round his, insensibly softening and charming away all that was harsh and rugged in his character, till their lives were inseparably blended in a union of perfect. and unbroken harmony. Proud that his young wife was an Englishwoman, and anxious to surround her with the comforts of an English home, he bought the house and garden where Maurice Valazé had visited him, and furnished it as much as possible in the English fashion. To this house he brought her, as fair and as happy a bride as ever entered a good man's dwelling; here she lived for fifteen years a happy wife and mother; here she died after a short and almost painless illness, and with her died all the sunshine of Christian Kneller's life. Grief for her loss weakened his mental and bodily energies; he neglected his business, lost his customers and gradually suffered his affairs to fall into hopeless confusion. A paralytic stroke, which, for a time, affected his intellect brought matters to a crisis. His creditors becoming urgent, two or three of his friends undertook to arrange his affairs, and when all claims on his property had been satisfied, placed the small remainder in the funds, thus securing him a small yearly income for life.

Contrary to all expectations, he grew better, and when he was sufficiently recovered to bear the intelligence, his daughter Mar

guerite, as gently and considerately as possible told him of his altered circumstances. The shock was not as great to him as she had feared it would be; for long before his illness he had known his impending fate. Looking sadly and steadfastly at Marguerite, he put out his left hand, for his right was powerless, and drew her towards him.

"Three years ago," he said, "I had health and strength, and my life was full of joy in the present, and hope for the future; then the one great blessing that brightened all the rest was taken from me: your mother died, and all the zest and flavour of life for me died with her. I wasted my days in selfish grief and idleness; I forgot I had children; and it is only fit that I should pay the penalty. Now I am lying here helpless and poor, to see my children beggared, and to be a burden to them instead of their support and protector."

"Oh, no, dear father," cried Marguerite, clinging to him," there can be no burden where there is so much love. If you will not grieve we shall be perfectly happy now you are restored to us again. Claire is too young to care about being poor, and as for me, I am almost glad that we are no longer rich, for you know you have often told me I was born to be a painter, and now perhaps I shall fulfil my destiny."

"You are a good child, Marguerite, and a clever girl," said her father, "but you do not know what poverty is."

“Oh, yes, father, I do," said Marguerite earnestly. "Mamma has often told me how her father and mother suffered before they knew you, and she has often taken me to see poor people. She said I ought to know about such things that I might learn to pity and help those that were in want. Now you shall see her lessons have not been thrown away upon me."

"May God bless thee, my child," said her father, tenderly kissing her, "I know not whose head thou hast got, but I know thou hast thy mother's heart."

At first Christian Kneller proposed that they should sell their house and garden and take a cheap lodging, but to this Marguerite would not consent. She knew how great a sacrifice it would be to her father to leave the home which her mother had so much loved, and where every object was tenderly associated with her memory; and besides, in his state of health, the garden where he might daily enjoy the open air, seemed absolutely necessary to his existence. She thought that by letting the upper apartments and selling fruit and vegetables from the garden, with his small yearly income to insure her father such comforts as he required, their little household could be provided with all that was necessary in the quiet and simple mode of life she had planned. Her father was easily induced to consent that a trial should be made, and henceforth this young girl of seventeen took upon her all the cares and responsibilities of the family. She had an invaluable assistant in the faithful Monica (whom they always called Mère Monica) and, besides teaching Claire and waiting on her father, she found time to earn money by copying pictures for a picture-dealer, who was an old friend of her father's, and who, though he had not sufficient taste and judgment to appreciate Marguerite's genius, had the highest admiration for her industry, good sense and affectionate devotion to her father.

Thus four years passed. Christian Kneller's right side was still helpless, but his mind had recovered its strength, and he was always cheerful and contented. Thanks to Marguerite's good management, their means were sufficient for all their simple wants and nothing disturbed the peaceful tenor of their existence. But Marguerite never forgot her resolve to be a great painter and by patient study, by earnest thought and constant labour, she strove to draw nearer day by day to that haunting ideal which, in her waking and sleeping dreams, seemed ever beckoning her towards its shining goal.

« AnteriorContinuar »