The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1882-12-22
Ill TROVATORE."
BY X. TEMPLE MORE.

The room seemed to have crept into
that grim, prosaic home by mistake, SO
bright, so CHEEKY, SO cosy was it.
Crimson curtains shut out the bleak
November evening. A coal fire spark
led in q little open stove, its soft light
making a rosy twilight. Everywhere
were dainty feminine adornments, every
where the suggestion of a woman's
presence.
By a small shaded lamp in one corner
a hoy was porting over q book. Swaying
herself slowly backward and forward in
n low rocker sat q girl, a child at first
glance, SO small was the black-robcd
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 a sudden glad cry as she
caught sight of the tall, STABILITY dress
ed figure on the threshold.
MAXI she cried. 'Oh, Cedric, it's
Max"
She held out both hands rapturously,
her eyes alight- He smiled a little sadly
as he noticed the frank, childish joy Of
words and actions.
'When did you get back, MAXI" the
boy asked. flinging down his book aud
coming forward. We missed you awful
". Didn't we, Cora? Awfullyr
Eyes" Cora murmured absently,
looking up into the grave, handsome
face before her and still holding ont
cold, brown hand in both her own little
warm, snow-white ones. "Come ant
get warm, Max. 1t is almost Christina!
weather. Haven't we the place nicer
with quiet pride. "Do you know
cheerily, s'that sometimes we-Cedri'
and I-don't-hardly missioner"
And there was a quick sob. MAJ
Marsden looked pityingly down on thu
pretty, averted, f~ire-flushed face. Sh,
had begun SO bravely, only to falter anl
limp lamely to the end.
ut is cosy, Cora! 1t is 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 lip
into q smile, and winked the brigh
tears away.
"Now, next I will make you q cup o
tea. I can make tea, you know. Ant
steak-I can cook steak now, and
But he laughed and held up one hant
deprecatingly.
what q menu! And what q littl'
cook it is to be sure! Never mind tn
steak. dear. Just let US have a cup o
tea and then we will 60 to the opera
1.-THE opera!'
She stood quite still in the rosy fire
shine, Just gasping out the one enchant
ing word. She was little more than
child, remember-this girl of sixteen
And she had been to the opera.
"Yes-'n Trovatore.' Really ant
truly. Now little roman mufie up. 70
its seven o'clock and we may be" usin.
q genuine Chicagoism, 'bridged!"
One rear before Cora Testers fathe
had died, leaving his children orphane'
and almost friendless. He had been &C
counted a wealthy man. His house OF
the Boulevard had been a marvel Of al
| most barbaric magnificence.
But after his death gradually tn
| knowledge came to his children that tn
| only heritage their father had left then
was that of bitter poverty.
Their only relative. an uncle, becaus
| of former enmity with his brother re
fused to aid them.
So with childish pride taking tn
small portion remaining to them the.
went out into the world alone.
But slowly their slender purse gre,
| slighter and slighter, and would hav
totally collapsed were it not that Ma
Marsden came forward with kindly OF
fers of assistance.
He was only a struggling, unsuccss
full journalist, but he was an old frien'
of the family and they looked to hir
and trusted him accordingly.
Many the little comfort which foun
its way from his hands to this uppe
story room. Cora got work, paintin,
porcelain for a city house. Often, afte
offering to deliver it, she would cry OF
in surprise at the ample pay her frien'
brought back: .'They had a custome
who was willing to pay a good pric
for suitable work." Max Marsden woul
answer gravely.
Chicago was not at its pleasantest tn
sharp. unlovely evening. Winter ha
come upon it suddenly, unexpected,
Gusts of wind whirled the brown leave
madly down the The very ca,
bells jingled m%ournfully.
Once the girl glanced up at her con
panion in quick questioning:
where is your overcoat, Max? 70
will perishr'
"Its-it's a bad habit to mufie .
! early aud-pm not cOld.n