The Van Buren press., 1879-08-30
MI S CELLANY.
IRENE'S AUCTION.
A Sketch from Life.

| oefSa Iu0iphoi1 1uOobiViNu AAi D. Lhi
thur, her hands folded listlessty across
her lap, her air betokening utter helpless
ness, as she looked pitifully toward the
beautiful girl whom she addressed.
Nothing mamma answered the lat.
ter, drawing as near as possible, as she
spoke, and kneeling by the others side,
while she laid her finger, earessingly, ON
her mothers pale cheek" only each
other; but papa's death has taught us
how much that is. Don't worry, dearest,
| hope the sale will enable us to buy fur
niture more suitable to the few rooms
which, for time, must be our future
home, until can secure pupils, and get
the little home in the country, where you
are to live. surrounded by birds and by
flowers, and forget that the red flag ever
viewed from our door,
They were brave words, bravely spok-
en-so brave as not to betray the effort
they cost the speaker
Six months before Irene Arthur reign
ed belle in her fathers magnificent
home, when, like q thunderbolt from a
clear summer sky. came her fathers fail
nre and death in quick succession, with
the lessons only experience teaches, of
friends deserting, in the hour of need
little by little learning the necessity Of
standing alone, and seeing hope drifting
further and further in the distance, until
the present, with its absolute emergen-
cies, reused her to action.
The small head, set so regally upon
the slight, sloping shoulders, held itself
more regally still, the red, curved lips
were pressed more proudly together, as
Irene buclxled on her armor for the bit
ter fray.
The hardest part was over, now Her
mother had been told the worst that
could befall them. She must now take
her from this spot, hallowed by memory,
before the desereating foot of strangers
entered it.
A few days search, and she was re
warded by finding, in a quiet house, a
suite of roems, which met, at once. her
purse and requirements, hut in sad con
trast to the elegant luxuriousness with
which she had been surrounded all her
life long, but where, at least. her mother
was saved the sight of the red flag, that
seemed to her to be dyed in her hearts
blood.
is there nothing you would wish to
save, Miss Arthur? questioned voice
at her side, on the morning of the dread
sale.
She turned haughtily toward the stran-
ger, but something in his clear blue eyes
bent upon her, witnessed the words held
honest meaning.
- beg your pardon, r." 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, personal.
ly, though am the auctioneer appointed
by the estate Your father once did me
a great kindness; and though | would
not like to seem intrusive, should like,
very much, to preserve any article you
may desire"
"With many thanks, sir, l desire to
receive no favors," she replied, coldly,
and passed on, to take one heeting look,
ere she fled to the place she must learn,
now, to call home, to be haunted all day
by the sound of the anctioneer's ham
mcr, and the voices of strangers desecra
ting the halls.
But when, in the dusk Of the evening,
cart stopped before the door, and, one
by one. articles hallowed by association
her fathers chair, her own desk, her
mothers favorite pictares--were brought
in, the feeling, so long repressed, gave
way to flood of tears.
Who had done this thing? Por one
mament the honest, blue eyes that met
her own, that day, rose before her. But
no such dclicacy belonged not to their
owner's rank in life. Nor was it a stran-
gers 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
| luxuries which to her mother had become
necessities.
| Business had thrown her more than
once with Earl Kenneth, the owner OF
the blue eyes. 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
/ forge. the social gulf which separated
them-she, the once wealthy banker s
daughter; he, a man who had risen from
the humblest ranks, but whose soul was
that of nobleman. The friends she had
known, she no longer knew. They rode
she walked, and must stand on the curb,
to let their carriages pass by.
EarPs chcory voice and pleasant smile
her mother also grew to welcome, with
the few choice flowers or carly fruit that
he ever laid so quietly in Mrs. Arthur
hand, which was growing, daily, palei
and thinner.
But one evening, as he sat by 1rcnc's
side alone, very calmly, very truly, yet
with n certain humbleness, he told hel
that he loved her, and asked her TO be his
wife.
al cannot bear 20 see you struggle,
he said +" Once, as you well know,
could not have asked you to be my wife
and though have not forgotten, dear
that am man who has only honor ant
ambition, yet can take you from thi:
life of toll, can shield you with my
breast, can toll for you and yours, if yol
u,;I ,i,-a IN mo tlr nTpci0uS assurance