Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1885-11-19

with you, for Jones tells me shels come IN. "
Edward Fame frowned. "The designing
girl is lady, mother" he said.
$50 she may be, but she is a penniless
one, and would, no doubt, like to marry my
son, forgetting what l had striven to i'm
my full approval, not one"
II have heard that before, mother; there
is no necessity to repeat the lesson," he
said gravely; and Mrs. Fame for once felt
the rebuke, and changed the subject.
Meanwhile, upstairs in her bedroom, Hell
en- Spencer was walking up and down, in a
state of agitation that her afternoons en-
ployment hardly warranted. Poor thing !!
here was very sad thought, alas! common
enough position. Well born and once rich,
moving in better society than the lady to
whom she now acted as companion, she
was now an orphan, reduced by series OF
misfortunes to destitution. Forced by these
circumstances to earn her bread as either
a governess or companion, she had chosen
the latter alternative, attracted by the high
salary offered her by Mrs. Fame, although
by no means attracted by the lady herself.
It did not require very great astuteness to
find out that Mrs. Fame had not only an
arrogant, imperious temper of her own,
but that she was very vulgar woman. 1T
was we'll known fact that good-natured,
eXtravagant Charlie Fame married her for
her money, and had met with his punish
ment in being worried and irritated into a
premature grave. His son Edward was a
different kind of man but he too was at his
mothers mercy, in so far that she held the
purse strings, and never failed to remind
him of the fact. And this son, who was
destined by his mother to make some bril-
liant and aristocratic marriage, Helen Spen-
Ger loved.
She did not deny it; alas she knew it
she had allowed it even to herself-she
loved him, and she must 60 away. She
said it over and over again, in a soft de-
spairing voice and then feverish haste
overlook her, a desire to fly and hide her
head somewhere, where she might weep
out all the sorrow that was depressing her,
and feel that she had done rightly. For
to-day the danger flag had f1oated before
her eyes, and something had told her that
her love was in a faint measure reciprocal
ed. She went down to dinner with her un-
usually pale face lighted up by two vivid
spots of color, and her eyes soft and heavy
from tears. Conversation did not flow free
ly, as far as the young people were concern
ed; Mrs. Fame, too, was preOccupied, and
Edward had ample time to reflect on Hell
ems charms, which to him seemed redoubled
tonight, and to smile bitterly as he thought
of his mothers menacing words to him. 1t
was Saturday, so Mrs. Fame was not going
out and her tone was extra imperious as
she babe Helen come andwrite some letters
for her. She had been eXasperated at din
ner by Edwards absurd politeness and def
erence to "companion," and by Helen's
implied acquaintance with people who did
not care to visit herself Moreover she sus-
pected an attachment between the two
young people, and yet had no grounds on
which to frame definite accusation. There
was no help for it, she must get rid of Miss
Spencer, and that without delay. She was
about to launch upon the subject with her
usual ruthless abruptness, when she was
spared the trouble by Helen announcing to
her that she was very sorry, but if she was
causing Mrs. Fame any Inconvenience she
would like to leave her soon-very soon
in fact as early as possible.
Did Mrs. Fame desire anything better:
"You shall 60 on Monday, Miss Spencer"
she said majeStically, cycling the girl sus-
piciously, and wondering why she was fall
ing in with her own plans in this eXtraordi-
nary manner. Was she doing so in order
to have more freedom to see Edward. If
so she should find herself grievously disap-
pointed.
upstairs, but neither his mother nor Helen
said one word to him of the latter's depar-
ture; and when, on Monday morning, he
went out, he had not the slightest idea but
that he should find Miss Spencer in Grosve-
nor Place on his return some time in the
afternoon. 1t was late when he did come
back, and as he walked up to the door, a
cab with two boxes on it was just driving
away. Careessly he asked Jones who was
that was going to the station, and started,
electrified, when that functionary, with
outward gravity, but with some inward
chuckling, responded that twas Miss Spen-
Ger who was departing good" he add
ed after pause.
"Where is she going to 2"
But, alas! Jones did not know.
TO step into a hanson and promise a
double fare if the luggage-laden cab were
caught up and followed to its destination,
was the work of a minute, and soon Edward
Fame found himself driving close behind
Helen Spencer through net work of
streets and thoroughfares that led to that
now far-famed region, the East of London.
Past Shoreditch Station, the Bethnal Green
Museum, down the Hackney Road, skirting
the Victoria Park, until the cab stopped at
one of those little houses with bow-win-
dows, which in their dreary uniformity,
form the staple habitations in that part of
London.
As Helen stepped out of her cab, Edward
did the same from his; and as she turned
to speak about her boxes, he advanced to
address her. He had meant to upbraid her,
but the sight Of her pale, sad face disarmed
him, and he was not only anxious for the
time to find out that she had come to some
sort Of comfort.
"Oh, yes" she answered feverishly, after
she had got over the first start of surprise
at seeing him, "N1rs. Abbot is an old SER
want of ours, she is sure to make me COM
Portable, and the clergyman's wife here is
a great friend of mine. Goodbye, Mr..
Fame"
But Mr.. Fame had no intention of being
thus summarily dismissed. He followed
her into the house, where Mrs. Abbot was
fussing about into the little sitting-room,
all smothered in antimacassars, seating him
self on the faded green rep sofa, with a judi
cial aspect that was almost too much for
poor Helen's over wrought nerves. But it
did not last long, giving way very soon to
a gentle tenderness that was still more
trying, and to resist which the girl had to
summon all her courage.
Still Edward sat on and on; Mrs. Abbot
looked in from time to time, but her wo-
mans instinct had put her on the right
track, and she did not intrude unnecessari-
ly. 1t ended at last in the young man,
overwhelmed with pity and shame for his
mothers unkind conduct, declaring his
love, and asking her to be his wife. At
this Helen rose from her seat, and, assuming
all the dignity she possessed, although
trembling from head to foot with suppress
ed emotion, she assured him emphatically
that she could never consent to such a pro-
posal, begging him to leave her, and eX-
citedly reiterating that he ought never to