Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1885-04-10

ner aunt joyfully, and forthwith began the
lonngEings.
mo, dear auntie, you can't sit down I'M
I'll you have admired our skill in making
sixteen feet square do the work Of twenty.
NO croWding,. either; we are proud Of
tnnt,n she SAID, in her rapid, girlish way.
WIN the bookcases, which, thanks to
your blessed wedding present and Ned's
college library, we have filled, we defy
criticism as to the decoration Of our walls.
nhose engravings and photographers and
me little Florentine mirror look we'll, don't
sney, against the Pompeiian red, though
tbs only water wash?' The tops Of the
shelves, you see, have served to accommo-
date the best Of our wedding loot Us Ned
calls it, but the China ornaments have by
MS stern decree gone into one especial
press III the dining-room. We are rich in
lamps and candelabra, of course, and the
horrld little chandelier was banished alto
Two or three of Ned's artist friends came
mere and sat- upon our affairs while we
were furnishing, SO we flatter ourselves
that the tone of everything is eminently
correct. That portiere was an extrava-
gance, but-don't tell-we exchanged a
on US. Now for the dining room. Isn't it
a pretty spot?"
Here, instead of the traditional gloom of
the modern eating-room, were light, color,
fragrance. Two little windows had been
knocked out to be replaced by an ample
tain a tete-a-tete breakfast table. The fur
niture, of the slender-legged mahogany
variety, glittered brilliantly in q bath Of
morning sunlight. Glass, brass, silver
and porcelain caught up and repeated the
Delft held vigorous young palms. A bowl
of yellow tulips ornamented the center of
the table, and around the little plot Of
ground behind the house wistaria, ivy,
and honeysuckle made O wall of green to
inciose a grass-plot with its central low.
"The wonder Of it is, we are, in our
modest way, a social success" Grace went
on. "All my girl friends followed me
here, and once q week I have afternoon
tea, and so many pleasant people drop in.
Now and again a carriage rolls into the
street that brings all our neighbors to the
window; but many of mammals friends
have contented themselves with sending
cards through the post. The visits of mere
form will soon stop, and then Ned and 1
will settle down to making our own 'set,'
if we are to have such a thing. Think Of
papa coming, aunty!Lpapa, who never
goes anywhere but to the office and the
club. Sometimes he and the children have
their Sunday Inner here, and we have
great fun. Ned and papa are such friends!
(But b everybody is friends with Ned,
l 11Uuv A1ODosJ we S66 4cS VI ulduluU, De-
u she is really very busy going out
with Ellinor, and then she doesn't like to
bring the horses to the east side Of town.O
They had luncheon, served by the smil-
ing Phyllis upon fowery china, N after
ward Aunt Hope fell to sentimentalizing
by the open DOW
"There is nothing like the spring tide of
married life," the old woman unused.
How beautiful is this ~fullness of faith in
the object be%loved--this persistent hap.
piness owning no alloy! Bless me, child,
then you may-as l see you are dying to
do-talk about Ned's virtues till one or
the other of US drops through sheer ia
tigue, and I know which one of us that will
not be-"
Grace needed no further invitation. She
sat down a cushion at her aunt's knee; but
before the confidence had gone far it was
interrupted by a loud knock, followed by
the appearance upon the scene of John
Talbot, looking pale and worn.
"Papa," cried Grace, ''you here at this
hour! Has anything happened?'
we'll at home, thank Cod" her father said,
dropping wearily into a chair. 81 am
glad to find you here, Aunt Hope, you and
~Grace-brave women and true. / believe
am a little tired, that's all. The way has
been long and hard, but my credits safe
40os Nv AANA 81 oAy SoAA 41AOOO Ado AODs
bel him of q dollar. But for your poor
mother and the children I'd not mind.
There is a relief in all being known at last.
/. . . Talbot and Co. have to-day failed
to meet their obligations, and-Id rather
not talk about it just now with Maria and
Ellinor and the rest"
By the sstime summer was fairly under
way the old farmhouse where Aunt Hope
had spent so many lonely years was alive
with the clamor of young voices. Its
lo~ng-closed doors had opened wide to re-
ceive John Talbot's family, of which the
younger members made no scruple in de-
claring their delight at the exchange of
domicile. Mrs. Talbot could not be brought
to think of herself otherwise thar as a
much injured woman. b wore away the
long dull hours of country life in vain re-
pinings for her lost estate, and her one
CLEAN of light was the prospect of a visit
with her daughter Ellinor to Newport later
in the season. To read in the society
journals of Ellinor's appearance at the
races at Jerome Park, or of Ellinor's toilet
present life. Grace and her husband spent
their holidays at Hope Farm, and "the
boys", rallied there from school and COL
lege. Mr.. Talbot came but seldom, for a
Sunday, when he could. He was back
again at the tread-mill round of business,
friends had every prospect OF renewed
success. True, Aunt Hope, Grace, Edward
and the family doctor urged upon him
rest. but the reproaches of his wife and the
goading sense Of responsibility to his chill
dren made Talbot shake his head and
redouble his exertions. For a year this
state of things went on, until one day of
the following June, Talbot arrived at the
farm with alook of rare excitement on his
pallid face.
'I've got the reins in my hand again,
Maria," he said to his wife, before the
family. "Affairs are going on better than
l dared to hope, and, please God, before
"Father dear, how can you" Grace
cried, covering his trembling hand with
kisses and with tears-"you, who lave
been so generous, so s~elf-denying, so ten:
der. Speak to him, mamma, and tell him
this. He wants it from you, not me-"
"Well, Pm sure everybody knows how
we'll I have borne this trial" Mrs. Talbot
began, but was stopped by IN alarmed
gesture from Aunt Hope. Grace's arms
were around her father, her cheek pressed
to his. She did not see the strange look
that came into his eyes as he reeled and
fell heavily to the floor. By the time they
could lift him to a couch it was found that
life had fled.
As if through q mockery of fate, the fol-
lowing day brought Ellinor Eliot, alone
and unattended, to the shelter of her auat's