The daily Cairo bulletin., 1882-11-24
I'll TR0VATORE."
BY X. TEMPLE MORE.

The room seemed to have crept into
that grim, prosac home by mistake, 50
bright, so CHEEKY, SO cosy was II.
Crimson curtains shut out the bleak
November evening, Goa! fire spark
led IN little open stove, its soft light
making rosy twilight. Everywhere
were dainty feminine adornments, every
where the suggestion Of woman's
presence.
BY small shaded lamp in one corner
boy was poring over book Swaying
herself slowly backward and forward in
a low rocker sat girl, child at first
glance, so small was the black-robed
figure.
A mass of fair curls tangled to her
waist The eyes under the dark, delicate
lids were as blue as meadow violets.
A knock at the door. She sprang to
her feet with sudden glad cry as she
caught sight Of the tall. shabbily dress
ed figure on the threshold.
"Max!' she cried. "Oh, Cedric, it's
Max"
She held out both hands rapturously,
her eyes alight, He smiled little sadly
as he noticed the frank, childish Joy Of
words and actions
when did you get back, MAXI" the
boy asked finging down his book and
coming forward. We missed you awful.
ly. Didn't we, CoraP Awfullyw
Yes" Cora murmured sbsently,
looking up into the grave, handsome
face before her and still holding one
cold, brown hand in both her own little,
warm, snow.white ones. Come and
get warm, Max. 1t is almost Christmas
weather. Haven't we the place nice?'
with quiet pride do you know"
cheerily, that sometimes we-Cedric
and I-don' hardly miss homep"
And there was quick sob. Max
Marsden looked pityingly down on the
pretty, averted, fire-aushed face. She
had begun 30 bravely, only to falter and
limp lamely TO the end,
at is cosy, Cora! 1t 10 home, dear.
Try and remember you have Cedric,
and love always makes home"
She lifted her head in sudden self de.
fiance. She resolutely curved her lips
into 8 smile, and winked the bright
tears away.
NOW, next will make you cup Of
tea ! can make tea, you know. And
steak--I can cook steak now, and"
But he laughed and held up one hand
deprecatingly.
What a menul And what a little
cook it is TO be sure Never mind the
steak, dear. Just let us have cup Of
tea and then we will go to the opera-"
THE operar'
She stood quite still in the rosy fire.
shine, Just gssping out the one enchant-
ing word. She was little more than a
child, emember-this girl Of sixteen.
And she had never been 10 the opera.
"Yes-'Il Trovatore. Really and
truly. Now little woman mufle up, for
its seven o'clock and we may be, using
agenune Chicagoism, 'bridged""
One year before Cora Lester's father
bad died, leaving his children orphaned
and almos, friendless. He had been ac-
counted wealthy man. His house on
the Boulevard had been q marvel Of al.
most barbaric magnificence.
But after his death gradually the
knowledge came to bis children that the
only heritage their father had left them
was that Of bitter poverty,
Their only relative, an uncle, because
Of former enmity with his brother re.
fused to aid them.
So with childish pride taking the
small portion remaining to them they
went out into the world alone.
But slowly their slender purse grew
,lghter and slighter, and would have
totally collapsed were it not that Max
MarSdeu came forward with kindly Of.
ters of assistance.
He was only struggling Unsuccss-
tul journalist, but he was an old friend
IF the family and they looked to him
and trusted him accordingly.
Many the little comfort which found
us way from his hands TO this upper
story room. Cora got work, painting
porcelain for q city house. Often after
otfering to deliver 1t, she would cry out
in surprise at the ample pay her friend
brought back; They had customer
who was willing to pay good price
lOl Nulbaulc Nplhi VIVA nlhloutu NO"lo
suswer gravely,
Chicago was not at its pleasantest thi,
sharp, unlovely evening, Winter had
come upon it suddenly, Unexpectedly.
Gusts OF wind whirled the brown leaves
madly down the avenues. The very car
bells jingled mournfully.
Once the girl glanced up at her com.
panion in quick questioning
Where Is your overcoat, MAXI You
will perishr'
"lts--it's bad habit to mufle up
early and--Im not cold
Aud his eyes OF tender brown smiled
down on the pretty, pitying face
He had no overcoat; but there was a
little, well.6lled pooket.book in Cora
Lester's desk, the contents Of which had
not coue from the sale Of plao9ues,
They passed into MoVicker's, q blaze
Of light, as into Fairyland
But Max Marsden did not look at the
stage or the house. He did not listen to
the music. lie saw only one radiant,
dazzling, girlish face, one bent, bright,
listening head Many hlase theatre.
goer turned to look at her--at the
liSsome girlish figure leaning slightly
forward at the little claspcd hands, at