The Bloomfield times. [volume] (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, 1872-01-09

to poor Ellen it seemed as IL the sunshine
all died out with the presence of her beau
tiful friend. F e M
It was nearly dusk when Miss Avery,
summoning up all her resolution, assembled
the brown stone steps of the Richley resi-
donce and rang the bell"
'Is Mrs, Richley at homer"
"What's your business with her? asked
the servant, suspiciously scrutinizing the
little basket that she carried. Laura bit her
lip-this manner from servants was entire
a new experience to her, yet how often
must poor Ellen have endured it.
81 have called to bring home dress that
has been finished for her." she said, in
tone of quiet dignity.
"oh-ah-yes. Well, / s'pose you'd
best walk i'm
The servant conducted her up stairs into
sort of setting room or boudoir, where
Mrs. Richiey, portly dame of about fifty,
gcorgeously dressed in crimson silk, was
sitting in her easy chair in front of glow
ing coal fire. Laura was inwardly CRATE
full that the gas had not yet been lighted,
particularly when she observed Mr.. Florian
Richley was lounging on a velvet sofa in
one of the window recesses. Mrs. Rich
ley looked up as the servant ushered in the
new conner
"Well, young woman, what do you
want ?'' .....
ot ha nc
coarse insolence in which she was ad-
dressed, but she commanded herself to re-
ply, meekly:
81 have brought home your dress, Mrs.
Richley."
"Wherc is Miss Wynall?'
''She is ILL.,"
every well-lay down the dress--it is
all right"
But Laura stood her ground valiantly.
"NIiss Wynall would like the money to-
night; madam-it is seven dollars on The
old account and three for this dress"
at is not convenient tonight"
"But Mrs. Richley, Miss Waynall is
sick, and needs the money" persisted
Laura.
"There, Florian," said Mrs. Richley,
petulantly addressing the young man in
the Turkish dressing gown and elaborate
ly arranged hair, 81 told you just how it
would be %
"What the deuce is the matter now?"
snappishly asked Florian, for the fist time
condescending TO evince any interest in
what was going on.
''Why these impertinent dressmaking
people are always clamoring for money
just when you have drained me of my last
cent ~
'Let 'em clamor then-that's my adj
vice." said Mr.. FIorian, without taking
the trouble to move his head.
"Just give me back that ten dollar bill,
Florian," urged his lady mother. "You
can't want it tonight"
''But do want it, it happens" said
Floran coolly.
"You are just going 10 fritter it away in
some of those gambling places, or drink
yourself stupid again." fretted Mrs. Rich
ley. 'It's too bad getting my money away
from me, just to indulge in those horlid
habits Why don't you earn money for
yourself?"
"Easy, mamma, easy ~ said the dutiful
son, lazily dragging himself into sitting
posture. 'Don't lose your temper, for it
isn't worth while. This ten dollar bill is
going to help make my fortune-it shall
take the lovely Laura to the opera to-
night"
'Nonsense--this fine scheme will flash
in the pan just like all the rest of your
castles in the air. She won't have you"
ooh, yes she will, my incredulous man.
ma--just wait and see. shall bring her
to the point pretty soon. Then I'll pay
You back the money, with interest out of
my lady's bag of sinners"
Both the mother and her hopeful son had
apparently, entirely forgot the presence Of
the young lady who was standing in the
duslsy shadows near the door, until this
moment, when Mrs. Richley, turned sharp
ly around saw her.
"What are you waiting for?" she asked
irrtably. 81 have already told you that it
isn't convenient to pay the money tonight (;
why don't you go about your business? ?'
Her cheek was flushed, even beneath its
artificial bloom of rouge, and her chill
gray eyes sparkled with rising anger as
Laura Avery advanced composedly for
ward. She took one of the wax tapers
from its china shell and lighted the gas with
a steady hand, whose flashes of rich rings
strnck Mrs. RichleY with astonishment