The Wahpeton times., 1886-11-18
FAMILY PRIDE.

There never lived better-hearted
fellow than my friend Gerald De Vols
ssy, but he had one failing, out ofwhich,
some years back, he was most artful-
ly beguiled. Gerald's grand weakness
was family pride. He belonged to an
,aristocratic French family, the men,
bers of which bade adieu to France
about a century ago, with view OF
making q home and wealth in this
country. A love of the old name had
been handed down from father to son,
and one of the boasts of the De Vols
:sys was that no plebeian blood ever
mingled with theirs.
At the same time Gerald had not
fortune enough to keep up the ideas
ofgrandeur which had been part Of
his education. He and I led a bohe.
mian sort OF life, for both had adopt
ed the same profession - art.
We worked in a studio which
was the most inartistic place
you ever saw, and our rooms adjoin-
ed each other on the same floor.
How loved our old studio, right at
the top Of a house which commands a
good view of Central park
From the windows we could watch
the autumn turning the trees into
crimson and gold, or the delicate
touch of spring tinting the foliage with
those fresh, delicious shades which we
loved to reproduce on canvas. Then
our room was curious medley of
half-finished sketches, painting ma
terials, old armor hanging on the walls,
curiously wrought fabrics strewn here
and there, and in the windows our
easles bedaubed with patches of every
possible color.
We were both making rapid success
in our profession. worked hard for
the sake of Alice, darling blue.eyed
girl who had promised to make me
happy some day. Gerald worked
from pure ambition, for he had good
expectations from his relations.
The kindest friend in the house was
the janltor's wife, good, respectable
woman, but in very reduced circum-
stances. She granted us many little
privileges, and was always willing to
render us any small service in her
power.
One morning our quiet life was in
terrupted by the arrival of black
edged letter for Gerald De Voissy
which bore the French postmark.
1t announced the death of an aunt.
He had not met the old lady for years
so | did not expect to see him go into
paroxysms of grief on hearing of her
cease; but was rather surprised to
see the look of delight that overspread
his features as he read the last page of
the letter.
"How can you be so heartless,"
exclaimed. "as to look pleased over
such a sad event?"
"Well, it's an awful shame" replied
Gerald, looking penitent, "but, my
dear old boy do congratulate me. Pm
left heir to the greater portion of my
poor aunt's fortune, somewhere near
$4,000 year. This letter is from
one OF her nephews. He tells me my
aunt's generosity arose from the fact
that my mother was her favorite Sis
ter, and not from any personal inter-
est in myself, as she never saw me
since | was a schoolboy."
II sincerely. rejoice at your good for
tune, Gerald, and there is no fellow
who deserves it better than you dc" J"
I Ireplied, as I grasped his hand and
shook it warmly.
"Well, then, let us celebrate the day
by taking a holiday" he cried. ave
will run down to Long Branch. and
then you will have chance of seeing
your tiancee."
Such an offer was too tempting to
be refused, for I knew Alice and her
parents were staying there. So we
gladly closed our untidy studio and
prepared to enjoy our day on the
sands at Long Branch.
As we went down.stairs we stopped
a few moments to speak to the good
souled Mrs. Robbins, the housekeeper
already alluded to, for Gerald was
eager to acquaint her with his good
fortune. He had, however, scarcely
begun to speak before the rustic of a
lady's dress was heard, and in an in
stant a young girl brushed past him
and threw her arms affectionately
around Mrs. Robbins neck.
"How are you, dear mother?" she
cried, in g. sweet, soft voice. II am
so glad to come back to you."
The good old woman kissed her
repeatedly, while Gerald looked on in
admiration and surprise at the beauty
and grace of the young girl.
Perceiving his wonder, Mrs. Robbins
said, laughingly.
"You did not know, Mr.. De Voissy,
that l had so fine g. young woman for
q daughter. Ithoug hit I would give
you start some day. But 60 on and
tell me of your good fortune. I am
impatient to hear all about it,"
Inoticed that my friends usual
seltpossession had deserted him; and
though he spoke to Mrs. Robbings his
eyes were fixed on the young girl,
and he prolonged the conversation
purposely, I fancied. When, at last,
he tore himself away, we had discov-
cred that the young lady's name was
Maggie; that she was living with her
cousins in the country, and had only
come home for q few days.
"What a sweet grill" muttered Ger
aid. "What q pity she is not of good
family! Has she not wonderfully
sweet and beautiful expression?'
quite agreed with him, but banter
al him moi; A. 1itt1a hxy rono;n d;,, him