Nashville union and American. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1868-1875, 1873-04-04
WHICH WAS THE HEIRESS?

D19Nn AWAY HUH tlSf c-tOiA&tt4 ia -At64A
and 8 soft, violet shining in her eyes, as she
stood there, q living picture, framed in By
creeping vines and swinging sprays OF cem-
atis-that was the last glimpse that Henry
Dalrnayne caught of Lilias Ray mond on the
summer evening when he went away to
seek bis fortune.
he had found it already, in certain
sense in so far as man may lind treasure
troye in the rich abundance OF woman's
love; for Lilias loved him, and Lilias' heart
was gold mine in itself.
She tus ned and went back into the house,
with the gIistening dew of tears upon her
cheeks and mourning culver on her lip.
"How silly amp she murmured to her
self. at will be but year or two at the
furthest, and be has much more to endure
and battle with than l."
And Lilias rel ined at the fate assigned to
her in the great Playful of the world. It
was hard to realize the truth of the blind
poets words, that s'they also serve who on
liz stand and wait" -
If she could have worked 10 earn money
and help him; if she might have been priv
iIged 10 bear q weapon in the strife. Alasl
it is 80 hard to sit still and count the sec
onds which must elapse ere the crisis of our
fate dawns upon the leaden horizon of life.
So Henry Dalmayne went to London
and Lilias stayed behind, to bear the
separation as best she might.
Engaged, oh?" growied old Mr.. Peck
ham, Henry's maternal uncle, whose skin
had turned yellow with the reflection of
much gold, and whose heart was harder
than the marble of which his mansion was
built. "Nephew, you're fool Engaged
at two and twenty" u rs
sBut Uncle Ralph, she is the sweetest
girl you ever sawp' Il
ssSweetest girl Sweetest fiddlesticks!p
reared out the irate old gentleman. i. There,
there, don't talk sentiment to me. I've no
patience with it, llt
Henry was silent. The glitter of the fres-
coed ceilings-the fash of silver and cut
glass-the exquisite aroma of the rare
wine, and the velvet flush of dollhouse
peaches became distasteful to him, all at
once. Uncle Peckham had promised TO
make his fortune for him-but Henry was
not at all sure thai he wanted bis fortune
| much, on these terms. One glance, one
smile from Lilias-were they not worth all
these hollow pageantries?
"Here," said Uncle Ralph, tossing card
across the table. ave got you an invita-
| ton to Lady Bruee's party tonight. You'll
meet some people there who are worth the
knowing"
| Henry Dalmayne hesitated: it was the ev-
ening he had set aside in each week for
writing to LiIias. She would miss her let
| ter-but, after all, it would be only one days
delay. he could write as well upon the
next night.
So Henry went to Lady Brucs's under
the wing of his uncle, the wealthy stock
broker.
"Well," quoth Uncle Peckham, when the
festivities were over, and they were once
more sitting beside the fire that shone and
| sparkled like deep-hued rubies beneath the
burned arabesques of the marble mantle in
the rich man's dining-room; show do you
like Sarah Esterbrook?"
every well, sir!''
| avery well!' minched Mr.. Peckham.
ado you know that her father is worth a
| quarter of million?" -
sis he, sir?"
ais he sir? Henry!" roared the old
gentleman; 81 believe you're fool. Why
there are score of the wealthiest young
men in town who would give half that
they possess-ay, the whole Of it, if need
be--for the smiles and glances Miss Ester
brook vouchsafed to you this very night"
"She was very polite, SIR" said Henry,
with rather of puzzled look; shut"
"Polite! And pray what wonld you have,
Mr.. Dalmayne? Do you want a womsn to
| tell you out in so many words, that she
likes you, before you can take hint?''
Henry colored like girl. 1t was impos-
| s;ble to be quite insensible to the charm of
this fattery, the more especially as Uncle
Peckham was not ordinarily one who ''but-
tered his phrases" as the expression goes.
1 ayes, my boy, yes" went on the stock
broker, tapping the table emph aticalIy
| with his finger ends; "She does love you
And am not the only person who has no.
ticed it." -.-
"But, uncle, she is 50 plainl"
"What Of that? All women can't be
Venuses, and the prettiest of 'em have a
grinniBg skull and cross bones under pink
and white skins and fair exteriors. Beauty
is only skin deepp'
Henry thought Of pretty Lilias, with q
thrill of tender recollection. Miss Ester
brook, with all her golden charms, could
never hope to, rival her!
| Yet, as the days and weeks went by, his
Thoughts and ideas insensi5ly changed.
The yellow lustre of the old-worshiplng
atmosphere in which he lived seemed &
wrap him round: the surface-glitt Of So
ciety ideas gradually uprooted the old dog
mas and axioms of bis youthful faith. AnC
one evening, carried away by the wi.chery
and enchantment of the hour, he proposed
to Sarah Esterbrook, and was accepted.
Congratulations poured in upon him tn
next day.
"You're the luckiest dog going, Dial
mayne," cried one.
81 only wish l we're in lyour shoes?'
echoed second; and Henry, 0azzled By tn,
hriliancy of bis prospects, believed that ht
was really most fortunate man.
For, according to popular rumor, he wa
going to marry one of the richest girls il
London. And Uncle Peckhsm took to him
self all the credit Of the whole affair.
"Tbis is better than Flooding on one
whole life LONG behind a counting-hous,
desB!' cried Ralph, joyously rubbing hi
lean and wrinkled palms. "a young MAJ
OF enterprise and resolution can accomplish
anything he sets about nowadays, espeC
tally If, like you, Nephew Dalmayne, hi
happens to be tolersbly decent looking"
A man does not usually degenerate int
a villain all at once; and when Henry Dial
mayne Shutdown to write to Lilias Ray
mond, his frame of mind was probably ia
from enviable. But he got letter writer
some how. He wrote that no answe
would be expected, and no answer came.
Three months afterwards, just as th
preparations for the much talked of Ester
brook-D almayne wedding were culmina
ting, be CHANGED to meet John Hawley OF
the street-John's mother lived at small
place adjoining the Raymonds' farm. Dial
mayne stopped, with real pleasure on his
face.
"John, is it your stop minute and tel
me the news!"
s.There amt much news" quoth 10 hi
rather sulkily. In common with most o
the neighbors, he was inclined to thial
that Henry had behaved very ill. '.Excep
that Lilias Raymond is well, and prettie
than everr'
"Ahw Henry tried to speak carelessly
but without signal success.
"And Squire Ingoldsby's son is gettin;
pretty attentive in that quarter" went or
John; sand cd Robert Raymond died on
in India last Winter, and left Lily cleal
thirty thousand pounds"
"Did he? l am glad of that"
So Lily was an heiTess, after all. Wonlt