The weekly clarion., 1879-08-20
IRENE'S AUCTION.


across her lap, her hair betokening u
ter helplessnes, as she looked pititull
toward the beautiful girl whom she ao
dressed.
Nothing, mamma answered tn
latter, drawing near as she spoke, an
kneeling by the others side, while sh
laid her finger earessingly upon he
mothers pale cheek-.'enly each other
but papas death has taught us hoy
much that is. Don't worry, dearest
| hope the sale will enable US to bu
furniture more suitable to the few room
until | can secure some pupils and ge
the which for time must be our futur
home; little home in the country wher
you are to live surrounded by birds an,
flowers, and forget that the red flag eve
waved from your door.
They we've brave words, bravely spo
ken-so bravely as not to betray, tn,
4 effort they cost the speaker
Six months before aIrene Arthur
reigned belle III her fathers magnificent
home, when, like a thunderbolt from a
clear summer sky, came that father,
failure and death in quick succession,
with the lessons experience only teaches
of friends deserting in the hour of need
little by little learning the necessity
of standing alone and seeing home drift
ing further and further in the distance
until the present, with its absolute
emergencies, reused her to action.
The small head, set so regally upon
the slight, sloping, shoulders, held it
self more regally still the red, full
curved lips were pressed more proudly
together as Irene buckled on her armor
for the fray.
The hardest part was over now. Her
mother had been told the worst which
could befall them. She must now take
her from this spot, hallowed by memory,
before the desecrating foot of strangers
entered it.
A few davs' search and she was re-
warded by finding in quiet house a
suit of rooms which met at once her
| purse and her requirements, in sad con-
trast to the elegant luxuriance with
which she had been surrounded her life
long, but where, at least, mother was
saved the sight of red flag, which
seemed to her to be dyed in her hearts
| blood.
is there nothing you would wish to
save, Miss Arthur ?' questioneda voice
at her side the morning of the sale.
She turned haughtily toward the
stranger, but something in his clear,
blue eyes bent upon her witnessed the
words held honest meaning.
q beg your pardon, sir" she answer
ed, unable to disguise wholly the pride
these latter days had developed so forci-
bly, have not the pleasure of your
acquaintance"
1t is for me to beg pardon. | forgot
| might not be known to YOU personally,
though | am the auctioner appointed by
the estate. Your father once did me a
great kindness, and, though | would not
seem intrusive, / should like very much
to preserve any article you may desire" F"
With many thanks, sir, desire to
receive no favor" she replied coldly,
and passed on, to take one feeting look
ere she fled to the place she must now
learn to call home, to be haunted all day
by the sound Of the auctioner's hammer
and the voices Of strangers desecrating
the halls.
But when, in the dusk of the evening,
a cart stopped before the door, and one
by one articles hallowed by association
her fathers chair, her own desk, her
mothers favorite pictures-were brought
in, the feelings so long repressed gave
way to a burst of tears.
Who has done this thing q? For one
moment the honest blue eyes that had
met her own that day rose before her.
But no! such deicacy belonged not to
their owners rank in life Nor was ita
strangers work Some one must have
known her well to have selected the few
things it had been such bitter warfare to
part with.
They were. indeed, like old friends
sent to comfort her, as, in the weary days
that followed, her eyes would rest upon
them in her bitter struggle for the daily
necessities Of life for herself-the luxu-
ries which to her mother had become ne
cessities.
Business had thrown her more than
once with Earl Kenneth, the owner Of
the blue ewes. There had been matters
connected with the sale which compelled
her to meet him, until he grew to her al
most as friend, and at times she would
forget the social gulf which separated
them-she, the once wealthy bankers
daughter; he a man who had risen from
the humblest ranks, but whose soul was
that of nobleman.
The friends she had once known she
no longer knew. They rode she walk
ed, and must stand on the curb to let
their carriages drift by.
Earfs CHEEKY voice and pleasant smile
her mother, too, grew to welcome, with
the few choice flowers or the early fruit
he ever laid so quietly in Mrs. Arthur's
hand, growing daily paler and thinner.
But one evening he sat by Irene's side
alone, very calmly, very truly, yet with
a certain humbleness, he told her that
he loved her, and asked her to become
his wife.
60 | can not bear to see you struggle"
he said Once, as you well know, |
could not have asked you to become my
wife, and though | have not forgotten,
dear, that / am man who have only hon
or and ambition, l yet can take you from
this life of toll, can shield you with my
breast, can toll for you and yours if you
will give me the precious assurance |
seek"
Was the man mad The pride she
had forgotten in these quiet months
now surged upward as she turned to-
ward him with pale and sparkling eyes.
g Sir, you insult me !"
" No man insults a woman with his
honest love, Miss Arthur he answered,
the pride in hers bearing his reflex on
his face. Il love you-nay, love you
My love you spurn, / can never offer it
again, Miss Irene but remember
should you ever need it, it is always
yours, ready to do for you, to suffer for
you, to die for you"
y x 81
'' Why does not Earl come ?" ques-
toned the invalid. 81 want to see him
Il miss him. Write, Irene, and tell
him he must call this evening"
She wrote In obedience.
s. Mamma asks for von. She knows |