Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1880-05-13

the gentlemen will be coming in soon to
dinner"
"Did the new boarder come last
night?"
CDR. Warrington Yes, dear. Mr..
Loring tells Inc he is great physician,
author of some medical books, and won
derfully skillful. He is well off, too"
"Oh, mamma, if he could only help
that pain =
Ono, dear, no; we will not trouble
him with our aches and pains. There,
dear, run upstairs. I will send Maggie
for you when eat my dinner"
Then the parlor was empty, for Cyrus
sauntered off to his own room, when Mrs.
Hunter and her daughter were gone.
He was not many days an inmate OF
Mrs. Hunters house before he discovered
that it was not that ladys policy to pa
rade her daughter to her boarders. The
g1ri lived like nun, In her room nearly
all day, practicing at an hour when the
gentlemen were away, and the few ladies
lying down or out.
Yet, with his resolve in full force,
Cyrus Worthingtoa contrived to see
E!oise very frequently. He would bend
his great dark eyes upon her face, and
hold Ter fascinated for hours by the
eloquence VITA which he spoke of music,
Of poetry, of all the girl-soul worshiped.
He drew from her the story of the pain
her mother suffered around her heart,
and delicately offered professional SER
vice, where his skill availed to bring re-
lief, thus making one step by winning
the gratitude of mother and child.
But while his own heart knew no more
now than before the sweetness of love,
he read in Eloise's eyes none of the emo
tons he hoped to kindle there. Heart
whole himself. he had not been without
conquests in his selfish life. Women
had owned the magnetic power in his
great dark eyes, his rich voice, the Win
ming eloquence of his tongue. Bellies
whose conquests were of well-known
number had let him read the love he had
awakened in their eyes, and f1irts had
owned themselves beaten at their own
game.
Yet this shy violet, this little recluse,
liking him well enough, gave him no
part in her heart. One word from Bert
Loring, one glance of his blue eyes,
would call up flying bushes to the fair
cheeks all Cyrus Worthington' s eloquence
failed to bring there.
But Bert, though older than his friend,
had been an unsuccessful man. A poet
by the gift of God, he was almost a pau
per by the misrepresentation of man.
Just the tiniest patrimony kept him from
actual want, but though he had a ball
room at Mrs. Hunters, his boots were
often shabby, his clothes well-worn, and
his purse lamentably slender.
And Mrs. Hunter, seeing DR.. Worth
ington in her best room, prompt in pay
ments, faultless in costume, with GER
tainty of 1000, and a possibility of
greater wealth in the practice of his pro-
fession, encouraged his attentions to
Eloise, frowning upon poor, loving Bert,
who, spite of his jests about his we'll
riddled heart, gave the young girl true,
loyal love.
1t was the old, old story, and Eloise,
torn by her filial affection and her girl
love, was growing pale and wan as the
winter wore away. There was no coer-
cion. Mrs. Hunter loved the only child
of her heart too well for that, but loving
her she could not give her to property
and Bert Loring. And one day when
Berth Loring pleaded his cause, she told
him:
CDR. Worthington asked me this
morning to give him Eloise L like you,
Bert. You are as dear to me as a son,
but we must think of,the child above ALL
You know how dreamy, sensitive and
helpless Eloise is. You know that hard
work would be slow murder for her.
She lives in her music, her books.
"And her Lowell She loves me, in
terrupted poor Bert, boy yet in many
tender phases of his nature.
"And you, loving her, would see her
toiing, shaving, starving, poor ma" s
wife?'
"You put it hastily"
81 putt truly. While can keep this
house up you are welcome to a home
here, but any day | may die. These
heart spasms means sudden death some
day, Berth. Then where are you to take
Eloise."
Il will work for her.
"Work first, then, and WOO her after
ward. My poor Bert, you are too like
her to marry hex. Could l but give you
wealth, you could live in poets para
disc, you and Eloise, never growing old,
two grown-up children. But we are all
poor. Do not torture her, Bert; you
who love her Go away and let DIR.
Worthington win her.
"She will never love him.
"Not if you are here
81 will go, then. You will let me tell
herr"
"Why? 1t will only make her life
harder. if she thinks YOU suffer. | will