Daily Republican., 1884-05-09

/ w ndl Wou w f~'
"Oh, you know You're smart en-
ough. He won't do. Love-rubbisi
between you two won't do. You're my
niece. You'll have money, ! want
som ething better than q beggarly artist
for your husband, my girl p
Florence flushed crimson, and bel
eyes flashed Indignantly.
MY mother married an artist = she
cried.
know it," said Roger Curtiss.--
What did she gain by 1t? She lived
and died poor, and left you penniless
What did she lose? She lost n good
friend In me, my girl. 1t amt tho man
l object TO. Young Curtis is we'll
enough. If his name il spelt wrong
What object to is his poverty"
"But |. also, am poor, said Florence
"and If love him, uncle--"
"Stuff p interrupted Roger, grufiiy.
You've got no business to do any.
thing Of the kind. You amt poor
Haven't given you q good home, fine
clothes, money to spend and servants tt
wait on you? Haven't | been a good
uncle and a good friend? Well, you bt
good girl to me in your turn, and
marry to please me, and see II l don't
give you fortune in the bargain -
1t was all true. The rough, coarse,
eccentric. old man had been kindness
itself to his orphan niece, and, in spite
of much that was repulsive in his
ways, the young girl was grateful and
had learned to love him. Ia good trnth,
Florrie would have been glad to find il
possible to keep faith with her true love
and yet please her uncle too and this
out Of thankfulnsss for the kindness he
had already shown her, far more than
from the hope of any benitits yet ro
come.
She went up to him now, at his
last words, and flung her arms about
his neck and kissed him
81 don't care for your money half SO
much AZ for your love !" she cried.
You have been good to me, and l
love you for it But, uncle, let mo
confess the truth, loved Robert Cur.
tbs long before l ever knew you, and
was engaged to marry him. You
wouldn't ask me, surely,to break my
word. Besides | love him u
Her arms were round his neck, her
Q yes and tones coaxing him-he was
angry, but 1t was impossible, even for
him, to be quite proof against her
pleading.
Tut, tut" he said, peevishly, put
ting her away. 81 won't quarrel with
you, child. Curtis and l will talk OF
this. He'll release you, of course. He's
too poor
Florence plucked up courage.
81 won be released |" she cried. ~
love him He's not 30 very poor, either;
he has saved some money
"Tut, tut, tut Worse stuff, and
worse! What could poor ar'ist--earn-
ing some thirty dollars week, or So
possibly savy? A few hundred dollars
at most -
Florence grew desperate.
"He's quite rich - she cried, with a
stamp of her little foot for emphasis.
" He has property up-town-real es'
tate !"
"Ha, ha, ha, ha! A shanty on the
rocks, perbaps!' shouted uncle Cur
tiss then az he saw her weeping with
yexation "There, there, my girl, l
won't quarrel with you; I'll talk to
the young man about it,
And away he strobe, leaving her to
dry her eyes, and smile over one con-
soling thought, 81 shall zee Robert be.
fore he does, for he has business up
town, and promised me to call here as
he went down to the offic,. You can't
make mischief between me and my
love, you dear, good, cruel uncle Cur
tiss."
Meanwhile uncle Curtiss, cbuckling
and frowning by turns, had gone down
to the office. "I'll have 1t out with
him, and send him to the right-about,
at once," thought he. Real estate,
indeed A poor artist own real estate
Humbng!"
He hurried up to Roberts door, but
stopped short. A card was nailed to 1t
announcing that the artist would not
return till noon. "Noon be 1t, then"
Rrum bled the old man, Grossly, and
turned into his own private room.
Letters lay on the desk. He opened,
read, laid them on one side, until he
came to one that puzzled him. 1t ran
thus:
"R CURTIS, ESQ Dear Sir.-We
are offered eighty thousand, cash, for
the house and lot you instructed us 10
sell. Your place at Harlem we shall
put on the market to morrow. II offer
named is satisfactory, please answer.
"Yours, respectfully,
'"JOHN SMITH"
Old Roger Curtiss drew long breath
and gave longer whistle OF surprise.
"Ry ginger, now" he muttered, 1.-THE
girl was right. I've got no house on
Sixty.first street. nor at Harlem, and
Curtis with one 8 isn't me. She said,
real estate up town. She's right.
This is r. Curtis, the artists, letter, and
it's come by mistake to me.
He sat pondering there for qnite a
long time. This fine discovery altered
the aspect of affairs entirely. IF the
girl likes the fellow" he unused, "why
should CROSS them, since he's 30 we'll
off? I'd like to see her happy. But
why has he always worked SO hard land
lot people think him poor"'
BY and by he arrived at the conclu-
sion that this was merely an eccentrici.
ty on Roberts part. "Artists are full
of whims," thought he. We'll, !
won't cross him. Especially as his
real circumstances have come to my
knowledge 80 queerly. I remember
now, that Florrie didn't speak Of the
real estate until she was hard pushed.
He told her to keep 1t quiet, of course.
Well, I'll be ~ smart az they are. III
keep my discovery all to myself, and
give my consent generously, as ii l
knew nothing at all.
And 80 he did, to Roberts delight
and surprise. The artist had just come
f, ,om an interview with his lady-love,
and was expecting an unfavorable
answer 70 his suit. Imagine his aston. |
ishment when the old man consented
Immediately.
"Though you're not rich,'' said he,
"my girl loves you, and why shall !
. and in the way of your happiness
IN give her fifty thousand dollars
dowry, sir, and you must settle upon
her that real estate which she tells me