Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1875-04-21

dinarian, Of sixty, lay dying at HI
house in town. She had held |
tenaciousa grip upon life that it W,
difficult for the two yoang poop
90 realize the end was SO nea
Thcse two people were Geral
uErism, her nephew, and Miss Luan
; Williams, her companion and nurse
Gerald had seen the young won
an every day for the three year
she had lived with his aunt, bu
never until this moment had he
, slowed serious thought upon her
He did not even know the color o
her. eyes till his aunt gasped out ,
sentence that caused him to looi
at her attentively. Then he founC
them shining luminously in the
sombre gloom Of tho sick chamber
and something therein forbade him
to hate her, although the sentence
his aunt had uttered was to the
effect that she had left all her
money to Miss Williams.
"If you expect to pay for that
horse for Emily Thorpe to ride
with the money you get by my
DEATH" said the dying woman,
"you're Mistaken
"You don't understand" began
Gerald.
at was an infamous transaction"
said the old lady, "and what call
a post-orbit. / found out enough
about it to make me put a codicil
to my will That rascally horse
dealer will lose his money after
all, and Emily Thorpe shall flaunt
none OF Der finery at my expense.
I've LETT all my money to Luane
Williams"
1t was then that Gerald looked
ut Luane but his aunt suddenly
stretched ont her hands to him
pleadingly, and finding gray pal
ler spreading over her face, he
kneit down by her bedside and
took her cold withered hand in his
own. "If the horse had been for
any one but that Emily Thorpe"
faltered the poor old lady.
z "0h, aunt" said Gerald, "if you'd
let me explain"
81 would II / had time," she
said "but i 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
he useless life OF drone, when
now II appeared he must work for
his living like all the rest of the
oees. 1t had hitherto been some
hing Of bore to him merely to
pend money, and the fact began
o dawn unpleasantly upon his
nind that to earn it must be in
lnitely more wearysome.
Walking almlessly on, his feet
ook mechanically familiar direc-
ion, and before long he found him
'elf pausing before a fine house in
fashionable quarter of the city,
rom which shambled a somewhat
'enf and awkward figure that pre-
emily disappeared in a brougham
'efore the door.
Gerald recognised the man as
'fr. Badger, the millionaire, and
nvoluntarily contrasted his con-
Iition with that Of the fortunate
Dap dealer. He was, however, so
described with direful news he had
o tell Emily that before she came
nto the parlor he had forgotten
badgers existence.
Itwas singular that her remark
bic beauty and brilliant toilet did
OF appall Gerald at that moment
nd that the fact Of his no longer |
eing able to grace that lovely
and with befltting gems did not
revent him from selling 1t in both I
is own, and kissing IL rapturously. I
Int for an enchanting moment he
'as allowed to forget the gloomy
hamber where his aunt lay dead,
nd the woman who waited there
DR. the money he had been taught
0 consider his own. e.
at seems to me that you are
cry beautiful this morning" was
II that he could say. cr
Emily drew her hand gently
way from his caress.
"Gerald," she said, ~ have some
hing to tell you"