The Sentinel. [volume] (Trenton, N.J.) 1880-1882, 1882-05-13

SAAAA0 yVAAO o0J Will COLuC, LIE
said, ''when men would pay a fortune
for your smile! Adieu until to-naor-
row."
She bent then, and ere he could di.
vine her impulse, she snatched his
hand a moment to her lips, then
turned and fled.
The man slept little that night, but
when morning came he had deter
mined on his purpose. He was rich.
To crafty caprice was to give life
new zest, and this, his latest caprice,
babe fair to be an interesting expert
ment.
So, when the girl came, he unfolded
to her his plans. For three years she
was to study, at his expense, at the
first musical conservatory in Europe,
then under his patronage she was to
make her debut. After that, if she
felt her debt to him burdensome, she
might repay it as she would. All that
he now asked of her was to work hard
and realize his dreams of her success.
Would she do this?
The next month her new life had
begun. Hard and difficult work Law
before her, but she never faItered.
Her education in other matters she
strove to remedy in every spare mo
ment she snatched from her music.
But in the end she triumphed. She
spoke like lady, was well versed in
all the simple accomplishment, and
sang, the professor said, like an angel.
They could teach her no more. She
would have continent to pay her
homage. And there was prophecy in
their words.
In a private box, Jack Desmond on
the night of her debut, listened with
flushed cheeks to the enthusiastic
plaudits which marked her reception,
and saw the flowers rain at her feet,
and her hour of trial was her hour of
victory.
Again and again the house recalled
her. Shouts of "Bravo!" rent the
air, but through it all the blue eyes
never lost their look of sadness which
SO strangely marked them, save once,
and then as she raised them to that
seemingly empty box, ana sent one
glance which said more plainly than
spoken words: 1T is you, not I, who
are the worthy recipient of all this. 1t
is you to whom / owe it,"
At that moment, Jack Desmond's
heart beat with a new and marvellous
thrill. In that moment, Eleanor had
ceased to be merely the singer, she
was the woman.
Night after night found him in his
place, and he looked for that one
glance which showed him he was ex-
peoted, and absent, he would be
missed. Day after day he spent long
hours beside her.
At the end of the first month that
she sang, she handed him paper.
1t represented three-fourths of her
earnings. 1t would repay him for
one year of her expense.
II owe you SO much-all! all!
Think of it I! Let not my debt, then,
have the added weight of money" -
So, then to please her, month by
month, he let her liquidate her claim.
II will find means to make it useful
to her." he thought, and laid the
money by in the form in which she
gave it.
At the end of six months he re-
turned to England. The journals
rang with stories of her triumphs and
successes.
They could find her with only one
fault. She was cold-coli as ice. She
had been offered the coronet of mar
quis, prince had sued for her hand,
but all in vain.
He remembered then his idle words,
that one day men would yield for
tune for her smile, and wondered why
it gave him pleasure to have proved
them true.
Could it be that he, Jack Desmond,
loved this woman?
With the question, came the an.
swer-Yes!
Yet, though dukes and princes
might lay heir rank and title at her
feet, he hesitated. He remembered
that long ago night when she had
sang in the street and his pride rose
up an insurmountable barrier between
them. Still, he fastened to Rome,
where she was singing.
She welcomed him as he knew she
welcomed no other, but of his love he
breathed no whisper. His proud old
name he had ever sworn should be
borne but by a woman who might
give equal heritage to its future pos
SCISSORS.
For the first time, the sad look in
her eyes, troubled him. Why did it
ever linger there?
Ono NIGHT offor fbc or,oro he bod