Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1873-09-10

ooiHe Oue 10 care Tor her after nor mOtner
died. l wonder if l ever shall see her
again. The uncle is evidently we'll of,
since he discharges his 'pecuniary indebt-
edness,' as he calls it, so promptly
judging from the note, it wounded his
pride, and 1 wish l had not been so
careless as to drop that card. What the
deuce am l to do with this money, any
way ?"
He would not have asked that question
two years later, when the news of great
tre In his native city came across the
cable, and he learned that the riches
which he had enjoyed so thoughtlessly
had vanished on the swift wings of fame.
He returned at once, self-reliant and
hopefu!-the change in his circumstances
developing all the latent energy Of his
character. The necessity of gaining a
livelihood from the profession which he
had formerly looked upon as the outlet of
certain philanthropic ambition was just
the stimulus he needed, though even in
his prosperity he had never been an idler
with no earnest purpose or endeavor. But,
knowing as he did from experience, the
butterfly life of club and ballroom, he
realized that it would be incompatible
with the practical work that lay before
him, and he felt that it would be easier
to sever the old social ties at once and to
seek his fortune among strangers.
He went to a western city; but even
there, to his surprise, he found some old
friends in an agreeable family he had met
while travelling abroad. They were gay
people, who entertained handsomely, bu
he persistently declined all their invita-
tions, until he was over-persuaded to
attend the debut ball of one of the
younger daughters.
He did not repent his concession wher
he found himself in the midst of the
brilliant scene, but yielded frankly to it:
exhilaration. The fair debatante showed
him much favor, but in the midst of hel
lively chatter his eyes wandered TO the
door through which tall, graceful gir
was just entering.
She was indeed very lovely form
coloring, movement, were all exquisitey
perfect. The shining ripples Of golden
bair, the dewy, violet eyes, the rose-leaf
complexion, the arch, smiling mouth, the
supple, rounded figure, rivalled each othel
as being the chief charm of her fair
presence.
Halls genuine admiration was very
evident, as he asked abruptly:
Who is that lady ~
If you were not such recluse yol
would not ask replied his companion
g that is Laura Gresham, the belle Of tn,
season. Isn't she lovely p
"Yes, very" answered Hal; she ha
that rare beauty that reminds one of
flower, delicate and perfect, yet living.
think | have seen her before"
That is hardly possible, for she ha
been in a convent school all her life unti
this winter. Let me introduce you ;
know her we'll"
J Hal assented eagerly, but was surprised
to see sudden blush suffuse Miss Gresh
: ANS face when his name was mentioned
She had no dance left to give him, bu
they chatted on few moments on ordin
airy topics, and chance allusion;
Is it long since you returned frou
! Europe?"
"Only about six months. [ snoul
have remained a year longer, but all NJ
worldly goods having been converted int
. , dust and ashes one night, it behooved m
! to exchange the life of vagabond for tn
= practice of my profession, which bega
! here in preference to my native city"
d The lightly spoken words seemed t
r astonish her What misfortune ~ sh
exclaimed.
g trust it will not prove so in tn
end,' he answered, thoughtfully; but tn
C next dance had already began, and th
tete-a-tete was interrupted.
Later In the evening, his hostess said t
him playfulIy: " You should be muc
e fattered Miss Gresham has been askin
Y me all about you, and it is not often ths
o she condescends to take SO much trouble
il Of course you have fallen in love at fir.
!. sight
II Perhaps [ should if [ had not lon
since outgrown such a possibility" Ha
d answered carelessIy.
IS Nevertheless, as he sat next morning, i
e his modest little office, Laura's beautifi
IS face came between his eyes and the dry re
}. port of the medical work he was readin,
e with such foolish persistency that it was
Il relief when the bell rang and he was il
" terrupted by messenger desiring his a
,r tendance upon Mr.. Rhodes as soon as DO.
slbie.
A. Rhodes" thought Hal as he prepare
1t to obey the summons, surely | hav
| heard that name. Why, it is the sam
o crusty old correspondent, and this is til
r. city he was living in. Strange l nevt
l. thought of it before. should like to st
s his little niece again"
Y But when he reached the handsom
; house to where he had been directed, b
d found only an irascible, dyspeptic old gel
d tleman, who made no allusion to any pr
vious intercourse, and proved mo
!. exacting and exasperating patient. 1t W,
e not until the third visit that he found
t young lady in the room who was intr
e duced as "My niece, Miss Gresham"
r So this was the poor needy girl he ha
t. succored-this courted belle and heires
d Truly, circumstances had stronglylchange
with both of them since their first NEE
J. ing.
l. 81 have had the pleasure of seein
d DR.. Burgess BEFORE" she said, with
ii slight hesitation; but beyond the signil
" cance which might be attached to those fe
"a words, no reference was made to any pr
,r vious incident in their acquaintance. A
" parently she desired it should be ignore
a and Hal had far too much tact and bree
le ing to betray by word or look his ow
e. remembrance of it. Yet he often wonders
er at this silence, as in the course of sever
u months professional attendance he becan
ocl better acnuainted with herself and b,