The Penn's Grove record., 1884-02-23

says everything was invested in a miu-
ing company, and the shares are not
worth the paper they were printed on"
Cleve fairly worshiped her then, as
she honestly explained her position,
with the quiet, lsdy-like way so natural
to her.
at is a misfortune, l admit; and yet
Birdie, there will inevitably GENE ONE
good of it-you will learn who are
your real friends"
Somehow he said it so earnestly that
Birdie glanced curiously at him, then
dropped her eyes under the blue.veined
long lashed-llds.
Cleve was close by her side the next
instant, with ner hands imprisoned in
in his, and his Impassioned eyes fairly
scorching her face.
"You surely understand me, darling?
You will let me prove my friendship,
my love, my adoration2 Little girl,
say you will be my own, Tel me you
love me, and promise me the great
privilege of caring for you forever, my
little wife,"
1t was so sweet, this manly, honest,
eager avowal, and coming, as it did, on
the very heels of her misfortune, and
from the lips of the only loyer she ever
had prayed to hear the words from.
And yet-oh. woman's foolish pridel
all her perverse little heart rose in
rebellion at accepting eveIyth ng and
giving nothing.
1t never should be said of Birdie
Lorne that she took the first offer she
received after her misfortune simply
because there was money in it.
So-while Cleve waIted, smiling
patiently at her bowed head, never
doublng that his whole earthly happi-
ness was just at hand, dreaming such
/ rapid, blissful dreams of the future.
Birdie deliberately made up her stub
born will, through horrid pangs of pain.
Then she lifted her head in a quick,
naughty way that it had often delight
ed in before.
"You are so kind, Mr.. Symington,
and L appreciate every word you say,
and will remember you gratefully to
my dying day. But L will marry NO
man to whom l would have to feel under
such obligations as l would feel tc
you"
She spoke gently, but with a proud
ring to her voice. Cleve reeled under
the sharp, sudden blow. He clinched
her hands so tightly that her rings cut
l n the tender flesh, but she only COM
pressed her lips and made no sign of
how he hurt her.
"But, Birdie, and there was such
agony IN his voice that her own heart
qualled a second-"Birdie, don't speak
of obligations to a man who loves as l
do; speak as if you knew you would
grace a queens throne, as you would.
Birdie, Birdie, don't be 50 cruel to
me-"
Her lips quivered, and her eyes sud
denly oyerhowed.
"You mean what you say, my dear
friend, L know. Or, rather, you think
you mean it, which Is the same to me,
since l cannot accept it. But you are
only pihful, kind, and sympathetic,
and the sight of my tears and grief has
touched your great heart, That is
all"
She drew her hands away from his,
softly.
ut is not all. l love you"
Then something in her imperious
face made him suddenly desist, and by
the way she looked and acted Cleve
Symington knew she was desperately in
earnest, she would not marry him be-
cause she was so proud. And he went
sadly away, feeling numb and stupefied
as he walked home in a strange, dazed
way that his fond mother saw from her
peeping place between the curtains;
and her own face lost ali Its matronly
bloom az Cleve cam in, winter than
death itself, and threw himself on the
sofh. phen, when he had told her, be-
tween spasms of pain that forced him
to lie speechless, the rosy flush crept
softly back and into the eyes fairly
radiated a happy, hopeful light.
TRY to bear II, my dear boy" she
said gently. You have proved what a
noble woman she is, ii nothing more"
Then she went out, smiling to her
self.
y
A plain, large room, on the second
story that bore evidences OF very recent
furnishing in the new, cheap carpet on
the floor, i'll the homely chairs and
table. Before the small, mahogany
framed lookInQ-class that hung between
the windows Mrs. Symington was tying
her bonnet-stings narrow black
strings to a black straw bonnet, trim
med with Quaker plainnlss-that COM
pared suitably with her black alpaca
dress and dull pl id shawl. She smiled
at her reflection then glanced down at
her unaccustOmed toilet.
i think | shall be successful will
be successful for my boys sake. The
sight OF his patient, pale face will in
spire me to any degree, and if Mis-
Lornc is the woman | take her to be
she will prove it before an hour passes
over u heads. Since her descent
into povery-genteeI, lady like poverty
Il learn she passes this house every
day at twelve o'clock, and takes her
dinner at the retaurant several doors
below; so if l intend to meet her l mad
better be going"
She locked the door, put the key in
her pocket, and went down the stairs
into the s~ireet-exactly in time, for a
slight, graceful figure, clad in gray
twill, passed quietly by and INTO the
restaurant. Sue knew it was Birdie
Lorne as well as Cleve would have
known it although she had never seen
her before. She walked camly into the
restaurant and took a seat at he same
table with the pretty, high'bred girl.
The place was nearly full, and Mrs.
S~ymington was glad it was.
All at once as If suddenly imposed
with the idea, Mrs. Symingson looked
~curiously at Brides face.
"Ibeg pardon, but are you not Miss
Lorne? 1 am quite sure you must be
the young lady my son speaks about 50
often"
There was something so kindly genial
in the air that Birdie did not resent 1t.
"Your son? L certainly am Mis-
Lorne; but you certainly have the ad
vantage of me-
81 am Oleve Symington's mother,
dear. There, forgive me, but you see
| know all about 1t. 1 am thankful to
have met you quite provldentially."
Birdie blushed now-as much IN sur
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