The Tiffin tribune. (Tiffin, Ohio) 1868-1887, 1875-01-07
Miss EriSm's COdicil.

rian OF 90, lay dying at her house in
town. She had held so tenacious a
grip upon life that 10 was difficult for
the two young people to realize that
the end was so near. These two young
people were Gerald Erism, her neph-
ew, and Miss Luane Williams, her
companion and nurse.
Gerald had seen the young woman
every day for the three years she had
lived with his aunt, but never until
this moment had bestowed a serious
thought upon her. He did not even
know the color of her eyes till his
aunt gasped out a sentence that caus-
ed him to look at her attentively.
Then he found them shining lumin-
ously in the somber gloom of the sick
chamber, and something therein for
bade him to hate her, although the
sentence his aunt had uttered was to
the effect that she had left Miss Will
liams all her money.
If you expect to pay for that horse
for Emily Thorpe to ride with the
money yon get by my DEATH" said
the dying woman, 'you're mistaken" !"
"You don't understand" began
Gerald.
"It w6s an infamous transaction"
said the old lady, "and what I call q
post-Obit. I found out enough about
it to make me put cUdlciI TO my
will. That rascally horse dealer'lI
lose his money after all, and Emily
Thorpe shall fsGnt none cf her finery
at my expense. pve left every pen
ny to Luane Williams ~
1t was then that Gerald looked at
Luane but his aunt suddenly stretch
ed out her hands to him pleadingly,
and finding a gray pallor spreading
over her face, he knelt down by her
bedside and took her cold, withered
hand in his own.
'If the horse had been for any one
but that Epily Thorpe :" faltered the
poor old lady.
"Oh, aunt,n said Gerald, "if you'd
let me explain"
al would if 1 had time ~ she said,
"but l must die now"
In ten minutes it was all over, and
Gerald went out of the house with a
great ache at his heart. He was very
sorry for his aunt she had been very
kind to him-tOO kind, for she had
reared him for the useless life of
drone, when now it appeared be must
work for his living like all the rest of
/ the bees. 1t had hitherto been some
/ thing of q bore to him merely to
spend money, and the fact began to
dawn unpleasantly upon his mind
that to earn il must be infinitely
more wearisome.
Walking aimlessly on, his feet took
mechanically a familiar direction,
and he found himself pausing before q
fine house in fashionable quarter of
the city, from whence shambled a
somewhat bent and awkward figure
that presently disappeared in brOng-
ham before the door.
Gerald recognized the man rs Mr..
Badger, the millionaire, and involun-
| tarily contrasted his condition with
that of the fortunate soap dealer. He
was, however, so absorbed with the
direful news he had to tell Emily
that before she came into the parlor
he had forgotten Badgers existence.
1t was singular that her remarka.
bic beauty and brilliant toilet did not
appal Gerald at that moment, that
the fact of his no longer being able to
grace that lovely hand with befitting
gems did not prevent him from seiz-
Ing it in both his own, and kissing it
rapturOusly. But for that enchan-
ting moment he was allowed to forget
the gloomy chamber where his aunt
lay dead, and the woman that wait
ed there for the money he had been
taught to consider his own.
'tIt seems to me that you are very
beautiful this morning." was all that
he could say.
Emily drew her hand gently away
1 80. h fe
"Gerald," she said, 81 have some
thing TO tell you"
Her accent was cold. There was
something in her manner that caused
him to step back and look at her with
q dim premOnitiOn of what was to
come.
"You know" she continued, show
bitterly opposed is your aunt to your
herself that she will never consent to
our happiness. Gerald, am too fond
of you to wreck your whole life. There
was but one way to end it all-n
She paused. He leaned forward, and
still kept his eyes, now wan and hag-
gard, upon her face. Then she sank
pale and trembling into chair, and
covered her eyes with her hand. She
was moved with pity, perhaps, or a
vague regret, At last she spoke.
''I have just accepted an offer of
marriage"
"From Badger" cried Gerald, and
walked to the door. "Your prudence"
he added, standing upon the Jhres-
hold, "has served you well. You
have just got rid of me in time. My
aunt died this morning, and has left
everything she had to her nurse and
companion"
Then be got out into the street, and
walked along with a faltering, stag
gering step. His eyes were wild, his
face lividly pale. People turned to
look at him as he went by, and two or
three wondered what was sending
that man to the devil.
He went home and stood by the
body of his aunt. There was a singu-
lar fascination about this hisdeath-some-
thing very wonderful and tempting
in that mysterious and absolute rest.
Suddenly he became master of him.
self, Of the bitterness and despair of
the moment. He walked firmly to
the door, but q step followed him, and
turning, he saw the pale, perturbed
face of Miss Williams. Then he re-
membered her presence in the room,
but his madness and grief had pre-
vented him from realizing it.
"Just one word, Mr.. Erism," she
said ''Of course you know that l
will not touch one penny Of this mon
cyl"
"It doesn't matter now" hereplied.
'It might as well be yours IS any
bOdy's 90
"But it is yours" she said.
"Ob, as for me-" said Gerald, "I
shall not want it." He walked
through the hall. Miss Williams fol: