Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1879-05-28

who hesitates, refurnished his narlor in
blue satin and pale gold, fitted up an
Apartment for his wife's boudoir like a
suburb of fairy land, bespoke the par
son, the ring, and the carterer.
do tellv' said one gossip to another:
"Greta Loring's going to step into clio
yer, and no mistake"
"It's a powerful change for her. l
hear Mr.. Grafton's always had a hank
ering for her. He told Mr.. Jobson any
nan could marry any woman he set his
heart upon, if he'd only work bard
enough, and wait like a spider in his
web"
~ guess he got Greta for the asking,
Ell 2"
Il dunno; there was that Sotherne
who was sweet on her."
Il reckon that's blown oyer-only a
young mans pastlme. I'm surprised
at Tom Grafton, though, with all his
airs and fMrills, with his family tree and
his coat of arms, and his ancestors aud
his money. How does he get over that
little affair of Mrs. Stoughton diamond?
l s'pose he expects folks to visit his wife
and ask nj questions, once she's a
Grafton"
Law! it's the way of the world: a
pretty face makes a man forget tres
passes and get rid of his judgment. It's
no use quarrelling with such things at
our age. Gretall make a fine lady. and
| mean to pay my respects at Grafton
Place directly; I'm just crazy to see
the new fxiEos. I'd Just like to see
low I'd look in the blue satin parlor."
And all this time Greta had not even
consented. 1t is true, wealth and COM
fort were alluring. She had told herself
that Providence would provide, and how
could she know but this was the very
provision made for hei? 1t would be
delightful. no doubt, to onioy such an
establishment as Grafton Place. She
remembered what visions of romance
had accompanied when she ramlbled
through the quaint, old-fashioned man
siol, which might easily boast a haunt
ed chamber; through the halls with the
"dim religious light" falling from paint
ed windows; eazed at the portraits of the
dusty Graftons; pushed aside the bro
cade hangings; drank frCm the china
that had outllved generations. She re-
called the great mirrors that had lined
the walls. the silver epergne upon the
sideboard heaped with fruit, the flash.
ing ivory of the piano, and the odor of
the hot-house flowers. And it might all
be hers at a word. Only let her say
Yes" and she might wear her velvets
and laces with any lady in the land,
drive in her satin-lined carriage, and
have servants under her, and all hat
heart could desire. All? Yes, all but
self approval, love, and Stephen Soth
n Stll, let her answer NO." and
stephen and love would still be lacking,
and hardship, want, and public disap-
prevail be superadded.
The miserable little thief" thought
the exasperated Mrs. S%toughton. "She
has played her cards to perfection, COZ
ening that old fellow into marrying her.
No doubt he'll rue the day, and serve
him right"
In the meantime, MS Greta had not
given him a refusal, Mr.. Grafton chose
to consider himself accepted. He con-
suited her about the wedding journey,
about the new servants to be engaged,
as II the marriage IA a matter of
course. She acquiesced in his sugges-
tons, but she had no choice to make;
she was drifting with the stream, not
rowing hard against it; she wa making
believe that she could love him by-and-
by; his attention, his consideration for
one so f%orlorn, his generosity, touch ed
her, that was all.
One day Mrs. Stoughton's husband
ratt1rnn1 hama II mould ono,, no &
nc event could have less effect upon
Greta's fortunes. She watched him
walking by, and wondered if Mrs.
Stoughton Was glad to see him.
"Any news in Hampton?' he asked at
his dinner table.
News enough. Mr.. Grafton is going
to be married." returned his wife.
"Ihat reminds me- l must see Graf
ton directly. Married, eh? Well, he's
old enough. Who's the bride %elect?"
THAT little hussy, Greta Loring."
softly, softly, my dear; it sounds en-.
vlous."
81 envious of that little thief!'
"Thiei? What has G-eta stolen-old
Grafton's hear? Nobody knew he had
one before. Perhaps she has only de-
veloped a latent organ in him."
ooh, Herbert, / am so sorrow to tell
you'll never couh make up my mind
to write it; but she was at work here
Greta Loring-by-the-way, | haven't
paid her yet-and-and my diamond
ring was in the same room, and-it's
there yet, only the diamonds gone.
Nobody else had been in the house.
What could l think? OF course she
stole it, though she brazens it out as she
does"
"Mr. Stoughton turned ash-color, laid
down his fork. and stared at his wife.