Frostburg mining journal., 1883-08-04
I'm sure, but I'd rather not.
Jerome Clay bit his lip.

Jerome Clay bit his lip.
"Of course, he said, "it is for you
to decide. But if Bessie"
The poetess shrugged her should
ers, and laughed a light, shrill sound
ing cachinnation.
cousin Jerome" said she, at is
just as we'll to be frank about these
matters. l wouldn't marry a poor
man-not if I loved him like Romeo
and Juliet. It's had enough to scrape
along as we do here, with only half
what one requires to live on decently
But to plunge into poverty, with two
or three children belonging to another
womas-no, thank you I"
For time, as may easily be psrceiv-
ed, had eliminated great deal OF
the poetical element from Bessie
Neely's soul.
The quondam Uudine did not wait
for the question, as far as she wao
concerned, but added promptly, that
she always agreed with her sisters in
all these matters.
Its such pity you didn't stay
here where you were we'll off, Jer-
ome," aaid she, in plying, patron
izing manner which your genuine
man mcst abhors. "Dear pa, you
know, always disapproved of your
going South. And you might have
got the situation of agent to the
White Castle place, at eight hundred
year, and cottage found, if you'd
only been mere on the spot. Pa used
to know the old agent, and could have
recommended you t.
Jerome smiled.
"White Castle ?" said he. "That' g
the big house on the hill, where we
children used 10 peep at the roses
and white grapes through the glass
sides of the great greenhouse. A
grand place, as | remember it.
"And the position of agent is most
responsible and highly considered. |"
broke in Bessie.
Jerome Clay went away, feeling
rather depressed.
1t Is not the lot of every man to be
thrice rejected in one evening.
"They think l am failure in life, +"
said he, half smiling, half signing.
"Well, perhaps they are not wrong
Peoples ideas differ"
Aurilla Haven, the old farmer 8
daughter, had been wild hoyden Of
school girl when Jerome Clay went
South. She was silent, pale wo-
man of three and thirty now, who did
the "tailoress" work OF the neighbor-
hood and had hard work to get along.
But her dark brown eyes lighted
up when MIR. Clay spoke of his far.off
home, and her cheeks glowed scarlet
when Mr.. Sewell chuckled out:
80 the three old maids wouldn' t
have nothing to say to you? Ha.
ha, ha !"
"Do you blame them ?" said Jer-
ONE.
"Well, nc" confessed the old man.
Gals naturally want to better them.
selves nowadays. If you'd COZ. e
back with your pockets full Of gold,
they'd sing a different song you'd
see"
Aurilla looked pityingly at Jerome
Clay. She, too, had found life fail
ure, and in her quiet way did ell
that she could to comfort the tall,
quiet man who had Fired the sEare
chambers In her fathers house for a
few weeks, since his cousins had al
together omitted to iavite him to be
their guest at the old place.
She was not pretty-uever had
been-but she had a sweet, oval face,
with dark fringed eyes, and mild,
wistiul expression which Jerome Clay
liked.
And one day she spoke out what
was in her heart.
"Mr. Clay" she said, 81 cannot
help thinking of those poor, little
motheress children of yours. If you
will bring them here, II take care of
them. Ialways l liked children and it
shall cost you nothing. Father will
let me have the big bed room for
a nursery, and their board won't
signify. They can go to public school,
and I'll make their clothes, if you'll
buy the material.
"Aurilla, you are genuine woman"
said Mr.. Clay, earnestly. "None
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