The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1880-03-05
The FORTUNE TELLER.
BY MRS. j. V. II. KoONS.
CHAPTER 1.


= Harry Wentworth was pet; he was
not as yet irredeemably lost, but was
trembling on the verge OF destruction.
He did not drink, swear, nor indulge
in any of the major sins that beset mon
eyed men, but he was a spoiled youth,
stepping into manhood. A change
must be wrought in his manner of liv-
ing or his would be miserable life.
No one saw this palmer than did the
keen-sighted little Addie Merton. But
what could she do? He was four years
her senior; her father was his tenant !;
he was her lover-at least that was
what the neighbors said, but then a
half dozen other girls had rs much of
a claim upon him as she had, SO far as
one could judge from appearances
But she believed in him. She was now
II years old, and for two years they mad
been much together. Her father was q
cultivated man but farmer--what peo-
pie with money call poor man; yet he
had handsome, sensible, educated
woman for a wife, four children, of
whom Addie was the eldest, a well-se-
lected library, good piano and enc ugh
Portable and their guests feel at ease.
Indeed, Harry Wentworth had often
told his mother that the Merton house
hold was the happiest end best regu-
lated one he had ever visited, and he
could not see why people should rust
their lives out trying to hoard wealth,
when people could be as happy in pow
erty rs they are.
Mrs. Wentworth was a rich widow,
and Harry was her only child, and she
saw with grief the slippery ground
upon which he stood, and secretly
wished that he would bring home as
his wife their tenants daughter; the
thought of it piqued her pride at first,
Ablst, her good sense came to the rescue.
She ielt the Mertons' nobility of soul,
and knew il would be her sons earthly
salvation to become the possessor of
such treasure as that into which she
felt sure Addie Merton would soon be
developed.
But she was a sensible mother and
knew that love was u delicate subject
Cor third party to touch, no matter
how close the relation, or how deep the
interest felt; so she only said:
Harry, my dear, hope you will not
triAe till you deserve the title of male
hlrt.'"
Trihe, mother? Who says 1 triAe ?"
have heard no one accuse you of it,
my son, but what name must L give to
your conduct when you divide your
attention equally among six or seven
young ladies' who are all in the mar
riage market, and each, perhaps, think
ing that at no distant day she will be-
come the happy Mrs. Harry Went
WORTH"
What right have they to think any
thing?' said Harry, evidently little
aroused; IL have as yet never asked
that favor of any of them"
"But that dodge will not ease your
conscience when you feel that they ex-
pecs it. What right have you to their
timer What right have you to rob 9TH
or young men of what you do not want,
simply because you have the time and
power to do it? These are questions /
would have you earnestly consider"
II hope, mother, you are not trying
to bring me to the point and to find out
at once who is TO be your future daugh-
ter-in-law?"
@Not at all, Harry. only wish you
to find it out before you weary of the
search, before your power OF discrimin
alton so weakens that you will not know
the real from the counterfeit" said his
mother, with warmth and emphasis.
II mean to find it out tomorrow"
said Harry, glad of q chance to turn the
matter into jest, "for am going to the
gypsy camp about two miles from here,
and when have learned all about it /
will report to you promptly" and he
slaughingly bowed himself out into the
fresh air, where he vainly expected to
fling to the winds the few earnest
= thoughts his mothers words had forced
him moment to entertain. He saun-
tered away through the spacious lawn
that stretched its beautiful length before
he old Wentworth homestead and cast
Imself at last into an old rustic seat
ere he and his mother had often sat
thread together, and where he had
rd herkind advice time and again,
had never questioned her right to