"That is none of mine," thought I, approaching; "it must be meant
for somebody else." I stooped to examine the address:--
"Wm. Crimsworth, Esq., No --, -- St., Brussels."
I was puzzled, but concluding that the best way to obtain
information was to ask within, I cut the cords and opened the
case. Green baize enveloped its contents, sewn carefully at the
sides; I ripped the pack-thread with my pen-knife, and still, as
the seam gave way, glimpses of gilding appeared through the
widening interstices. Boards and baize being at length removed,
I lifted from the case a large picture, in a magnificent frame;
leaning it against a chair, in a position where the light from
the window fell favourably upon it, I stepped back--already I had
mounted my spectacles. A portrait-painter's sky (the most sombre
and threatening of welkins), and distant trees of a conventional
depth of hue, raised in full relief a pale, pensive-looking
female face, shadowed with soft dark hair, almost blending with
the equally dark clouds; large, solemn eyes looked reflectively
into mine; a thin cheek rested on a delicate little hand; a
shawl, artistically draped, half hid, half showed a slight
figure. A listener (had there been one) might have heard me,
after ten minutes' silent gazing, utter the word "Mother!" I
might have said more--but with me, the first word uttered aloud
in soliloquy rouses consciousness; it reminds me that only crazy
people talk to themselves, and then I think out my monologue,
instead of speaking it. I had thought a long while, and a long
while had contemplated the intelligence, the sweetness, and
--alas! the sadness also of those fine, grey eyes, the mental
power of that forehead, and the rare sensibility of that serious
mouth, when my glance, travelling downwards, fell on a narrow
billet, stuck in the corner of the picture, between the frame and
the canvas. Then I first asked, "Who sent this picture? Who
thought of me, saved it out of the wreck of Crimsworth Hall, and
now commits it to the care of its natural keeper?" I took the
note from its niche; thus it spoke:--
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