The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-12-06

1 hope l am not such a miserable coward as to
shirk the labor Of a man.
His nleditAtiens brought him up in front OF
the Cummings residence.
Five minutes after he was sitting in the dainti- !
eet of boudoirs, Emily before him in the most
recherche Of French morning robes, fragrant
with the subtlest of French perfumes.
you look dreadfully tired, Con, Have you
been walking very far" she asked, a sweet sym
pathy perceptible in her voice and q tender anx-
iety in her luminous eyes.
Not particularly far, bat 7 have had bad
news; and, as a general thing, that is more ha-
RAISING than the mere effort of walking
Con had a way of p~lunging right into diff
c%ulties, and now he wanted to be over with it.
"Why, what news have you hadf Nothing
very serious, 1 hope
"Oh, not at ain Only that I've lost every
penny of the fortune my uncle left me"
He now noticed with great satisfaction that
her fair face grew very white, and that she
instantly put OH an indescribable expression OF
withdrawal.
Lost. eh9 oh, no! How2'
"Oh, IN a romantic way, of course. 1t seems
that my supposed bachelor uncle was in reality
a benedict, but as his marriage was a secret
one, and the girl was not Of his own social
status, nobody knew anything about it, SO he
told her the ceremony was false, and left her.
She died heartbroken- but left an heir or heir
ess, | don't know which This child takes the
silver spoon out of my mouth, and |, as you
see, lose fl00, 900 and an ruined. Plain aud
lucid, isn'titf'
But Emily didn't answer; she was grieving
over her fallen castles, musing over her unpaid
bills, and wondering whether her father could
sand this last stroke of misfortune.
"Of course, Emily, l came to you at once to
release you, if you wished, from our engage
ment. Reared as you have BEEN L could not
fear that, in my changed circumstances, l
would be no fit husband for you
Then Emily Cummings showed that girl as
she was, she was equal to the occasion.
Standing fully before him, where the light fell
directly on the beautiful, naughty face and slen-
der, graceful figure, she assisted him out of his
difficulty with an ease and grace that was almost
superb.
II can readily perceive, Mr.. Creighton, that it
is your wish that our engagement should end,
and knowing this, 1 should be the last one to OPP
pose your inclinations. AS regards your loss, |
~sympathi7e with you sincerely, but L cannot fal
to rejoice that it happened before l aweke to the
fate of an unl0Vod wife"
She paused &c. breath and then, as Con stood
il shameful, and. it must be confessed, slightly
disgusted silence, she went on, And row, Mr..
Creighton, rather than prolong our unpleasant
interview, had we better not say good-byf
So, for the last time, Con went down the mar
BILE stairs, saying to himself, "At any rate, L
still have two thousand and Mabel"
He walked along the streets, feeling his spirits
considerably lighter, his troubled conscience
comparatively at rest; but just as he reached his
mothers residence Gray once more encountered
him.
"Ah, here you are againi The very fellow l
wantl Your cousin has arrived and is anxious to
see you. Could you go to her at oncef she Is
with some relatives at the Grand Hotel
Con turned on him. a sulky expression wreath
ing his handsome face.
Look here, Grayt Isn'tit enough for a fellow
to be left ~penniless, without making him play
lackey to the girl that's got his money! As you're
so desperately interested, you can tel my cousin
that / am very much engaged to-day, and can't
90 to her. If she wishes to see my mother, L
presume she can find her"
Arthur Gray whistled as he turned ms BACK
upon his late client.
He was a young man. and still unmarried, so
it may be presumed he didn't feel very badly as
he returned to pay his devoirs to the helress.
But Con felt far from comfortable as he passed
the massive portals of his mothers door, and
strobe impatiently down the stately halls that
were theirs no longer.
AS he stood inside the lofty room that his i'm
agination had already peopaed, and looked
around on the velvet chairs and lounges, in
every nook of which he had already ensconced,
in fancy, Mabels slender figure; on the softly
yielding carpets that he hoped her little feet
would pTess; on the heavy silken curtains from
between which he had dreamt Of seeing a child
ish face and golden head waiting and watching
for him, he did feel very, very badly; and, after
all, l don't think any of us can blame him, al
though we may all have raised supercilous eye
brows at the truthful LONELINESS of the old
proverb, "When poverty comes IN at the door
love flies out at the window"
After his passion had subsidized he wrote to
Mabel, and, to give him his due, took infinite
comfort in so doing.
He told her ali his misfurtunes, and asked if
she would in reality become his wife; told her
how he hoped by his own exertions to climb the
ladder, and asked the aid of her small hands to
help him in the struggle. Then he Stamped the
letter and sealed itwith the Creighton seal, after
which he went in search of his mother. She
was out driving. the servant said, and would not
be home until dinner. So, with a feeling of half
relief, he was descending the stairs when the
servant called: Il forgot to give you this note,
Mr.. Creighton. 1t was left here about five min
utes ago"
Con took it up and glanced carelessly at it, a
dainty little envelope, whose delicate address he
did not recognize, broke the seal and read:
Miss Creighton's compliments tc Mr.. Geigh-
ton, and desires his immediate presence at the
Grand Hotel'S
SPY Jove! She'll offer me the post of footman
next, | presume. But III 60 to her now, and let
her see her mistake"
So, in anything but an amiable humor, he
wendell his way to her Immediate presence"
"Miss Creighton Is engaged at present but will
be down in five m%inutes,p the waiter said. And
after he had disappeared Con began to NUT
ter something eontemptuous about country
charms" etc.
Then, finding he had to wait he resigned him
self to a comfortable armchair until a light
step sounded in the hall; until a slight figure,
clouds of golden hair and diaphanous robes of
feecy gauze, lame floating into the room; until
a sweet voice cried out: "Oh. Con, I am so glad
to see youl"
Then, while he vas staring and wondering.
Mabel's two white hands were laid in his; Ma
bells sweet face was upturned to him; Mabels
violet eyes rested upon him, the tender love-
light lurking in their depths.
mabel, my darling-my own little Mabel.
what does this mean r.
why, you silly fellow, it means that I'm
your cousin. Mabel Creighton; and that I'm
glad, Con, that l didn't take your money never
to return It. And I'm gladder still that we met
before they made this discovery, and that you
loved me in spite Of what people said2"
He was so s~tupehed that he could only man
age to say, why, did you know what they
saidg'
She drew herself up to her fullest height and
looked him proudly in the face.
Certainly didn't know it, or I would have