Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1882-02-04

a complexion like a lily leaf, "a littIe
red mouth and golden hair-4 gifr
brought UP to paint on velvet and
bet at races, lirt through IA sumner
at Newport and a winter in the city.
A pretty, Vassar college, finished
girl, whose sole end and aim of life.
is to make a good match. Aud that
young idiot imagines she is in love
with him.
Twenty four hours later, just as
Vivian vas taking his dinner at
Delmonico's, a waiter han led him IA
note from his uncle, in which that
gentleman, always very e~rratic in
his habits, briefly stated that he WAS
off on a trip to the Yosemite Val
ley. to be gone two or three months,
and advised Vivian TO consider what
had been said to him on a certain
subject.
He folded up the note and went
on with his stuffed egg plant and
roast turkey in undiscom6ted COM
posture.
II wish he knew BERTHE better"
he thought with a glad thrill of
fond pride. But it was destined
that Mr.. Daniel Somerset should
never know pretty BERTHE Gray any
better; decreed by fate that he should
never see her again, for six weeks
later, as she sat in her elegant little
boudoir, sewing some foaming lace
in the neck and sleeves of "A black
velvet evening costume, Vivian
made his appearance, pale, grave and
gloomy, as she had never seen him
before.
81 thought you were not coming
until evening, Vivian, she said in IA
sweet voice that told how welcome
he was.
He took a seat beside her little
low chair, and gently authoritative
ly, took the lace from her lap.
Il have bad news for you my dar-
ling, and | want to break it to you
at once"
BERTHE nestled her little dimpled
hand in bis, confidingly, sympathet-
ically.
"Tell me, Vivian, at once. Only
with you here alive and well by my
side, no news could be very dreadful
besides | know father and mother
are both safe. l saw them a minute
ago. What is it dear ?"
Vivian looked at her; "a wonderful
grave tenderness in his blue eyes.
my uncle is de ad, BERTHE, in CAL
ifornia, where he has been travelling
for several weeks. ! always suppos-
ed | was heir to his three million
dollars, but" and his strong, brave
voice quivered slightly, ''for your
sake | am appalled, to notice that he
has left his money to a charitable
institution. | am a beggar, BERTHE"
Her soft, dusky eyes, grew wider
and more serious.
"Oh, Vivian ! A beggar ? 1t
sounds awful -
"But 1 wouldn't care if it wasn't
for you, darling. 1t means that |
must give you up, for am not cow
ard enough to ask you to share pow
erty with me on "a clerkship of a
thousand a year."
She looked at him with "a rich
crimson flush surging into her
cheeks and the tears rushed into her
eyes as she released her hands from
his and flung her arms about his
neck.
VIVIAN" she said, passionately,
"do you think l will let you give me
up ? l love you too we'll for that.
A beggar or a prince you are all the
same to me-my king, my love-"
And he folded her to his breast
with a great, almost speeches. ten
derness and joy.
"My darling, my precious !" he
whispered.
Three monts later, on a golden
December afternoon with a blue sky
as in June, and air balmy and salu-
brious, in Delmonico's restaurant, a
couple of gentlemen engaged in a
conversation that was carried on al
most as if by purpose by the elder, a
handsomely dressed, sharp eyed old
gentleman.