Smyrna times., 1881-08-24
Love and Pride.

And must all go? Can nothing be
sayed9' querulously questioned Mrs
Arthur a. with her hands listlessly folded
in her lap, and her uir bet0tlepipg utter
hclplessness, she looked toward the beun-
titul girl whom she addressed.
Nothing, mamma, answered the latter,
coming nearer as she spoke. and knceling
by the others side, while she laid her finger
carcssingIy on her mothers pale check
only each ether! but papa's death has
taught us how much that is. Don't fret
/ hope the sale will enable us To bay filrni-
ture more suitable to the few rooms which
for q time must be our future home, until
| can secure some pupils and get home
in the country, where you shall live sur
rounded by birds and flowers. and forget
that the red flag ever waved from your
door"
These were brave words, bravely spoken,
50 as not to betray the effort they cost the
speaker
Six months before. Irene Arthur had
rcigned belle in her fathers magnificent
home, when, like thunderbOlt from
clear sky. came that fathers failure and
death iii quick succession, with the lesson
experience teaches Of friends tcserting in
the hour Of need-little By little learning
the necessity of standing alone and seeing
hope drifting away, until the present,
with its absolute emergencies. reused her
to action.
The small head, set so rcgally on the
slight, slOping shoulders, held itself more
regaliy 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 days search, and she was re-
warded by finding, in quiet house, a
suite Of rooms which met at once her
purse and her requrements-in sad con-
trast to the elegant luxuriance with which
she had been surrounded her life long, but
where her mother was saved the sight Of
the red flag, which seemed to her 20 be
dyed in her hearts blood.
is there nothing you would like to
save, Miss Arthur" questioned voice at
her side, the morning Of the sale.
She turned toward the stranger, but a
something in The clear blue ewes bent
upon her witnessed the words held honest
meaning.
IL beg your pardon, sir, she answered,
unable to disguise wholly the pride these
latter days had developed so forcibly; 81
have not the honor of your acquain-
tance."
" 1t is for ne TO beg pardon. | forgot
might not be known to you personally,
though | am the auctioneer. Your father
once did me great kindness, and though
] would not seem intrusive, / should like
very much to preserve any article yop
may desire"
with many thanks, sir" desire to
receive 10 fayors," she replied coldly, and
passed on to take one last look ere she fed
to the place she must now learn to call
home; to be haunted all day by the auc-
tiOneer's hammer and the voices Of stran-
gers desecrating the halls.
But when, in the dusk of the evening, a
cart drew up ut the door, and one by one
articles hallowed by assOciation-hcr fath-
er's chair, her own desk, her mothers
favorite pictures-were brought in, the
feelings go long repressed gave way to
burst of tears.
Who had done this? For one moment
the honest blue eyes had met her own
that day rose before her. But no! Such
delicacy belonged not to his rank in life.
Nor was it strangers work. Some one
must have known her well 10 have selected
things it had been such bitter warfare to
part with.
They We're, indeed, like old friends sent
TO comfort her, as, in tho weary days that
followed, heF eyes would rest upon them
in her bitter struggle for the 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 things connected
with the sale which had compelled her to
meet him, until he grew to her almost as
Q friend, and ut times she would forget
the gulf which separated them-she, the
once wealthy bankers daughter, he q