Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1883-08-23
HER PAINFUL DUTY.

LIN AIM IL ~
Through the Elusive glitter of the
warm, golden July moonlight, the last
81 impression that Bertha Demorest re-
ceived was that of tall, graceful fig
IRE vanishing through the dusky gloom,
while his goodnight words fingered
pleasantly with her:
Remember, Bertha, if you are not
at the picnic tomorrow | shall not care
fig for the whole affair Don't forget
that you have promised me that you
Il will be there"
II am not in love with him., Bertha
said to herself, rs, returning TO the par
lor. she sat down in the tender dusk,
letting the curls droop over one slender
hand that supported her head as she
unused and dreamed ''Of course | am
not in love with him." she thought,
feeling the warm blood flush to her very
temples at the word. Il have only
known him n month. | wonder if he
really cares so much whether or not |
90 to the picnic?'
She was a fair little girl with bright,
blonde hair and heavenly blue eyes, and
Mr. Frank Gerome, the handsome young
engineer who had come to Westvale TO
attend to putting in the machinery in
the great block of mills recently erect
ed, thought her the loveliest creature he
had ever seen in his life, and particu-
larlv this evening, as he went home
ward to the picturesque old farmhouse
where he was temporarily living, and
whose majordomo was Mrs. Cornelia
Crawford
Cornela Crawford and Bertha Dem
crest were both women, but there all
analogy ceased Bertha was seventeen
-Cornelia was forty: Bertha was fresh,
fair and Madden ornelia, ftded and
n widow
"a delightful evening" Mr. Gerome,"
Mrs. Crawford gaiIy said as he came up
the steps,
Yes, he assented.
And then Mrs Crawford edged her
self little 10 one side.
'Won't YOU sit down and enjoy the
moonlight little whilc?" she asked
persuasiycly.
Thanks" he said Il am il a hur-
ry"
And rather dissatisfied with the in
different success OF her attempt ut So
ciability, Mrs, Crawford turned to an
other of her hoarders, who was sitting
inside the window,
Il suppose he prefers a cigar in his
own room to the society of ladies', she
remarked.
"But maybe he is in "a hurry to 30
and see Bertha Demorcst They say he
is making mp to her
Bertha Demoresl echoed Mrs
Crawford scornfully 'Why, She is q
mere child, with yellow hair and great
big blue eyes, Nobody could see any
thing in her to admire,
well YOU know there is no account
ing for taste. What | say is only what
heard, and have heard that they are
engaged, or next door to t.
II don't believe word Of it!' Mrs.
Crawford said theoretically.
THAT is as You please.
But whether or not Mrs. Crawford be-
heved the rumor, the tidings annoyed
her and when Mr.. Gerome had gone
out later she went upstairs, ostensibly
in her character Of boarding-house
keeper to see that Mr. Gerome was
well supplied with towels and fresh wa
ter, but really to prospect about lit
tie.
She never looked for the good for
tune that befell her. She had thought
it Just possible that Mr.. Gerome might
have written or received love-letter,
and possibly laid the torn fragments
conveniently in his waste-basket.
But it was not scraps-it was an open
letter-yes, actually an open letter on
the table, the envelope addressed to Mr..
Frank Gerome, and the sheet beginning,
My dear Frank-my dearest hus-
bandr'
A. if every muscle in her body was
suddenly changed to iron, Mrs. Craw-
ford became straight and rigid in an in
slant
"Oh, myr' she gasped Don't let
me iudqe nv fellow-creatures too rash
III. Let me look at the signature. Oh,
dearl oh. my gracious! if it actually
isn't Your own loving wife, julie On,
how faint it makes me! To think-to
think he is n married man.
"How thankful | am | ney encour-
aged his sinful attentions! We'll Ber-
tina Demorest will have her own bold
ness to thank for this. always knew
that girl would come to harm, with her
mouth always on broad laugh, tor
nothing in the world but to show her
teeth, lust because they happen to be
white aud regular--false teeth Ike as
not.
Yes, it's my duty to warn that girl
my painful duty; but Cornelia Craw-
ford never vet shrank from duty
All. if poor little Bertha Demorest
skin had been less like a rose-petal' her
ewes less lovely blue. Mrs Crawford