The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1882-02-16
PERFECTLY HEARTLESS.

| -NAxz@.
ga PERFECTLY HEARTLESS.
s'Prctty?. Yes, rather pretty, but per
fectly heartless!" said Mrs. Holmes t.
Dr. Stanley. a young and talented ply
| sician, with whom she was conversing
ut large and brilliant entertainment
..Heartless! with that sensitiv,
mouth, and those eyes. so deep and full
of eXpressionP" said the physician mus
ingly.i tr.
Il don't admire her style of beauty ri
| all. She looks like wax doll, and hel
heartlessness is proverbial. Since hel
uncle left her SO wealthy she has had
suitors by the score, and flirts with ev.
cry one. Why, look at her now?"
DR.. Stanley's eyes followed the direc.
ton in which the lady waved her fan,
and rested on the central figure of q
group round the piano. 1t was a lady,
young and fair, with tall, exceedingly
graceful figure, pure Greek features,
and large blue eyes. Her hair was
short, but the soft, full curls made a
lovely frame for the fair face. Her
dress was of dark lace; and twisted
amongst the golden curls were deep
crimson flowers, with dark green
leaves; and on the snowy throat and
arms glittered blood-red rubies. She
was cOnversing gayly with knot of
gentlemen, and DIR. Stanley sauntered
over to the group.
Miss Marston," said one gentle
man, ..what has become of Harold Gra-
ham, the artist?"
The tiny hands swept over the ivory
keys of the grand piano. in the measure
of II brilliant waltz; and another of the
group, supposing Miss Marston did not
hear the question, Said,-
.sOut at elbows, and can't appear"
'.He was wretchedly poor, there is no
doubt" said a third.
Perhaps he has committed suicide.
II is three weeks since he disappeared"
said another.
'.Oh, 1 hope notr' said Miss Marston;
''we want his tenor for our next musi-
cal soiree. 1t would be too provoking
for him to commit suicider'
'.Mrs. Holmes was right" thought
the doctor; .'she is perfectly heartless.
Poor Haroldr'
lie turned from the piano, but stop
ped as a full. rich voice broke out into
song. Eva Marston was'singing Schu-
bert's '.Last Greeting;" and into the
mournful words she poured such willing
energy and deep pathos, that group af-
ter group, in the large rooms, ceased
their gay conversation to listen to the
music.
Can she sing so without heart or
feeling?" murmured the doctor, again
drawing nearer to the piano.
Eva" said = young lady, rs the last
notes of the song died away-"Eva,
play Il polka, won't YOUR
A contemptuous smile quivered, for n
moment on Eva Marston's lip; then,
nodding good natlredly, she dashed off
into = lively polka, which soon melted
the group round the piano into merry,
went with the rest.
The. next morning Miss MarstOn sat
in her own room, writing a letter. Let
us peep over her shoulder mt one SEN
tence:-
..All hollow. all heartless. Miriam!
You blame me for flirting; you are not
here to see how they follow me merely
for my money; not one true heart
among them all. There. was one
Harold
A knock at the door interrupted her.
'.Come inr' and needle-woman en-
tered with basket of work.
sGood-morning,n said Eva, pleasant
". s.How is Terence this morningp''
"Oh! miss, it's beautiful he is to day.
Sure, marin, I'm sorry ye've had to
wait so long for the needlc-work."
s.Nevcr mind that. How could you
work with the poor fellow so illp''
'sSure, miss, it's many Il one expects
their work, sick or well; and isn't Jerry
sitting up the day playing with the toys
We sint him and Pat, that l kept home
from school, a-minding him.
'.How much, Mary?" said Eva, tax
ing cut her purse.
.'Oh! miss, you don't owe Mary Dan
mis- farden. There's the docther we
left the money to pay-and the wood We
sint-:lnd the parties and milk-and the
money We gave me last week; sure,
miss, it's in your debt / am for the rest
of your life"
''What l gave Terence has nothing to
do with my bill.' said Eva, rapidly
counting out some money.
miss Eva said the poor Irish
needle-woman, and then stopped.
'.Well, Mary?''
'1Sure, miss, you do so much good
with your money, I'm ashamed to tell
you"
.srell me what?''
s'Well, miss, it's about the young
gentleman that's rinted my room. You
mind where the widder died last au-
tumn. He came Il week back, miss,
and he niver come down stairs for three
days; SO this morning l wint up, and
he's sick with fever, out of his head
entirely, miss. If you would come
now"
s.Wait, Mary; I'll go with you.'
Hes dreadful poor, 1 think, miss;
for it's precious little Notwithstanding
but bed, and table, and chair, and
no thrunk at all, at all, but Il bit of a
bag"
Throwing off her silk wrapper, Eva
put on dark gray dress and cloak, and
added close silk bonnet with thick
veil.
Come, Mary -
And the two left the house together.
IN low, close room, on a pallet-bed.
lay Mary Dennis lodger. The face
against the coarse ticking pillow was
such as one fancies for that of his favorite
poet The hair was dark, waving over
q broad, white forehead; and the deep
set eyes were hazel. large and fuNs and