Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1888-10-25
altering tale

AdltcT1uS Cea16
with few stereotyped expressions of
sympathy, and, when she had done, ire
GREETED" that speculative loans were con-
trary to the custom of the bank, and po-
Gtelv bowed her out.
1t was nearly four o'clock upon damp
drilling afternoon, a November afternoon
that hung like a living misery over the
black slush of the Birmingham streets. and
would in itself have sufficed to bring the
Gghtest-hearted, happiest mortal to the
very gates of despair, when Augusta, wet,
wearied, and almost crying, at last entered
the door Of their little sitting-room. She
entered very quietly, for the aid-of-all-
work had met her in the passage and told
her that Miss Jennie was asleep. She had
been coughing very much about dinner
time, but now she was asleep.
There was a fire in the CRATE, a small
one, for the coal was economical by means
of two large frebricks, and on table
(Augusta's writing-table) placed at the
further side Of the room was a parafine
lamp turned low. Drawn up in front, but
little to one side of the fire, was a sofa
covered with red rep, and On the sofa lay
fair haired little form, so thin and fragile
that it looked like the ghost or outline Of a
girl rather than girl herself 1t was
JEANNE, her sick sister, and she was
asleep. Augusta stole softly up to look at
her. 1t was a sweet little face that her
eyes fell on, although it was so shockngly
thin, with long curved lashes, delicate
and mouth shaped like bow.
All the lines and grooves which the chisel
of Pain knows so well how to carve were
nod oHi -,
lay the shadow of a smile.
Augusta looked at her and clenched her
fists, while a lump rose in her throat and
her gray eyes filed with tears. How could
she get the money to save her? The year
before rich man, man who was detest-
able to her, had wanted to marry her, and
she would have nothing to say to him. He
had gone abroad else she would have gone
back to him and married him--at a price!
Marry him? yes, she would marry him;
she would do anything for money to take
her sister away! What did she care for
herself when her darling was dying-dy-
ing for the want of two hundred poundsl
Just then JEANNE woke up, and stretched
her arms out to her.
$50 you are back at last, DEAR" she said
in her sweet, childish voice. sit has been
SO lonely without you. Why, how wet
you are! Take off your jacket at once,
Gussie, or you will soon be as i'll as'-and
here she broke out into a terrible fit of
coughing, that seemed to shake her tender
frame as the wind shakes reed.
Her sister turned and obeyed, and then
came and sat by the sofa and took the thin
little hand in here
well, Gussie, how did you get on with
the Printer-devil" this was her impolite
name for the great Meeson); Twill he give
you any more money?'
No, dear; we quarreled, that was all,
and came away
"Then / suppose that we can't so
abroad?''
Augusta was too moved to answer; she
only shook her head The child buried
her face in the pillow and gave sob or
two. Presently she was quiet, and lifted
it again. "Gussie, love-" she said "don't
be angry, but l want to speak to you.
Listen, my sweet Gussie, my angel. Oh,
Gussie, you don't know how [ love you'll
1t is all no good, it is useless struggling
against it, | must die sooner or later;
though am only twelve, and you think
me such child, l am old enough to I'M
derstand that. l think" she added, after
pausing to cough, that pain makes one
old; feel as though [ were fifty. Well,
so you see l may as well give up fighting
against it and die at once. 1 am only a
burden and anxiety to you'll may as well
die at once and go to sleep"
Don't, JEANNE, don'tr' said her sister,
in a sort of cry; you are killing me!''
JEANNE laid her hot hand upon Angus
ta's arm. ''[Try and listen to me, DEAR"
she said 'even if it hurts, because do SO
want to say something. Why should you
be so frightened about me? Can any place
that can go to be worse than this place?
Can l suffer more pain anywhere, or be
more hurt when l see you crying? Think
how wrctched it has all been. There has
only been one beautiful thing in our lives
for years and years, and that was your
book. Even when l am feeling worse
when my chest aches, you know-I grow
quite happy when think of what the pa
pers wrote about you; the Times. and the
Saturday PeUiom, and the Spectator, and
the rest OF them. They said that you had
genius-true genius, you remember, and
that they expected one day to see you at
the head OF the literature of the time, or
near it. The Printer-devil can't take away
that, Gussie. He can take the money, but
he can't say he wrote the book: though"
she added, with touch OF childish spite
and vivacity, Il have no doubt that he
would if he could. And then there were
those letters from the great authors up in
London; yes, L often think of them, too.
Well, dearest old girl, the best of it is that
know it is all true. knol0, I can't tell
you how, that you viii be great woman
in spite of all the Nelson's in creation; for
somehow you will get out of his power,
and if you don't, five years is not all ones
ife-at least, not if people have life. At
the worst, he can only take all the money.
And then, when you are great and rich and
famous, and more beautiful than ever, and
when the people turn their heads as you
come into the room, like we used to at
school when the missionary came to lee
ture, know that you viii think of me,
|. because you won't forget me as some sis
tiers do,) and of how, years and years be-
fore. so long ago that the time looks quite
small when you think of it, I told you that
it would be so just before died"
Here the girl, who had been speaking
with curious air Of certainty and with a
gravity and deliberation extraordinary for
one so young, suddenly broke off to cough.
Her sister threw herself on her knees be-
side her, and clasping her in her arms i'm
plored her in broken accents not to talk of
dying JEANNE drew Augustus golden
head down on to her breast and stroked it.
Every well, GUssie, won't say any more
about it, she said; but it is no good hid
ing the truth, dear. I am tired of fighting
against it; it is no good-none at all. Any
how, we have loved each other very much,
dear; and perhaps-somewhere else-we
may again" And the brave little heart
broke down, and overcome by the preset