The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1871-02-16
Very Like Fate.


dusky curls that dropped over the
face ofthe young girl who sat there,
/ her pretty features wearing an cx-
preston of defiance mingled with
regret.
What ever I'm to do with you,
Muriel, I'm sure I can't tell. You're
enough to try the patience of forty
Jobsr
The nervouse little old lady op-
posite shook out the folds of the
black silk morning wrapper, as she
glanced across the room to her de
lmquent grand daughter.
"rm sure Idon't know, grandma.
I try to please you, indeed I do, and
I always have, ever since mother
died, and 1 came here to live. Am
I so very troublesome?p
It was a sweet, piquant face, light
cd by two merry brown eyes, with
a tender, dimpling mouth and deli
cately flushed cheeks; a face, was
DIurieI Lamberts, that any one
would have turned around for an
other look at, 50 fresh, and guilt
less, and witching was it.
Grandma st. Grace sighed, then
smiled.
mo; not so very, after all, Mu-
rieL Only you do persist in being
so vexatiously stubborn with re
gard to Wiley Rathmere You
know it is the dearest wish of my
life to see you two in love with each
other"
Muriefs brown eyes took lurk
ing smile in them.
cts so funny! just like a nov
ell, where the heroine has been cut
and dried for her handsome, god
like hero, whom she has never seer! +!
It's splendidly romantieg'
"Put romance aside, Muriel. Mr..
Ruthmere is. handsome, and, more
over, wealthy and influential. Such
chances don't occur every day"
ITS lucky they don't, grandma,
if all the girls hate this foolish ar
rangement as heartily as 1 dor'
Then AIuriel's eyes flashed a lit
tie, and grandma St. Grace saw she
must come to the point at once.
"Muriel, I may as we'll tell you
first as last, I've sent for Wiley to
come next Tuesday and spend a
fortnight, and I expect you to en-
tertain him, and accept him, if he
proposes to you"
"Then I ssalI leave this house on
Monday night! I will not deliber-
ately meet the man who knows / am
the wife picked ont for him by his
friends; whom he must marry noZens
voIens. Grandma st. Grace, I'll be
disinherited first? III go out to
work in a sixth avenue kitchen
frstr'
How her pretty eyes. glowed and
her checks burned, and Mrs. st.
Grace smiled amusedly at her.
every well, she answered, studied
". 'Ifyou choose to make a goose
of yourself I'm not the one to him
der YOU
She arose to give orders for the
luncheon, leaving 8fur'iel alone.
Il win not submit to such a rid
iculous demandl just as if wo-
man ought not to exercise her own
Judgment in the selection Of hus-
band! Before rd-Td do most
anything. Ihate the very thought
of him; mean spirited jackanapes,
to think he only has to come to st.
Grace and tell me I am to have
himl Dear grandma! she does love
me, and for all I said, she don't
dream ofmy going"
She packed a small valise with
necessary articles; took her port
monaie-fu1l to stuahsg. thanks to
grandma's generosity and her own
economy-and then wrote q note to
the old lady.
When Mrs. st. Grace returned
from her customary paorning drive,
NIuriel was gone.
The old lady read the lines, then
sat down and wiped her glasses,
81 never thought She meant it!
my poor child! But she's never
gone to that awful New York-it's
only a trick of hers to frighten me.
She's on a visit to some school
friend or other. lam sorry 1 was
so severer
And the old lady went through
the splendid house, lonely enough
without the girls laughing voice.
How pretty 1Iuriel Lambert was
as she tripped up the stone steps of
Mrs. yanderyn's elegant mansion
on Lexington avenue; her checks
flushed with excitement, her eyes
! sparkling with expectation.
Her neat travelling suit of siivery
/ gray poplin, with its flounces ana
stylish panier; the graceful BRIG
and" hat of white Neapolitan, trim
med with trailing pink velvet bios
SONS; the dainty gray kids and neat
walking boots; altogether a very
! 80, ,.,,.- Ia -. l. -,