St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1888-03-24

terms to his own satisfaction. and even
had the new sign painted under his
inspection. 1t ran:
svale & Atkinson, Late William Vale"
''There," he said to his son when il
was finished. sit looks neat After a
time, of course, it will be well to have
my name painted out, when clients
out of town are used to the change
Better set it up for the present behind
the tall book case"
Soon after this the new partnership
went into effect.
When Vale was twenty-six and At
klnson twenty-eight a new element
came into their quiet lives A family
by the name of More moved into the
town. The eldest daughter was an
extremely handsome and charming
girl, who speedily attracted many ad-
mirers. among them the two friends,
who often called upon her, always to-
getheE 1t was not long before the
young men detected in each other an
interest in Lucy More. and over their
evening cigars the subject was finally
broacbed by Vale.
"Robert-you and are getting to
be old fellows, and soon we shall be
lonely old fellows-unless one of us
makes change"
"a change! What kind of a changer"
said Atkinson.
Marrying" said Vale. 'Oae of
us ought to marry and make a home
tor himself, and you are the one
Nonsense. What can you be think
ing OPP
Il have been thinking it over for
some time" said Vale with affected
vivacity; land now, see here. Robert,
you know well enough what I mean.
and you know that any girl with
eyes couldn't help preferring you to
me. / wouldn't give much for her
Judgment if she didn't. Lucy
what of LucyF' said Atkinson.
flushing.
Lucy, I think" said Vale. yes.
/ am sure-she cares more for you
now than tor me-and you love her
I am sure of it,
':And SO do YOU" retorted Atkin-
son, jumping up and standing over
him. why not ask for yourself?
You have the best right.
Vale shook his head. Lucy does
not care for me as I do for her, so
that is out of the question. / should
do better as a brother, and that
brings me to what wish to say
putting out a warning hand to stop
whatever Atkinson might be about to
say. go and ask Lucy, and if she
accepts you, make interest for me TO
have home with you. That's all 1
want to make me all right, but I
couldn't get on. I'm afriad, if I were
left out in the cold"
It was in vain that Atkinson pro-
tested and endeavored to show his
friend how much he wronged himself
in his estimate, and argued that as
Lucy had never shown any preference
for either, Vale could not know that
she had any. Vale had his mind made
up. and was eager to have the matter
settled and over.
go to her. Robert" he said; 'sif
I'm mistaken, then perhaps-but Tn
not"
So the subject was dropped, and the
next evening, when Atkinson an
nounced his intention of going out.
Vale looked up and said: ITO see
Lucy?"
Atkinson assented.
We'll. good luck to you" and Vale
gave his hand a hearty grip.
Il shall look in the post-ofice,'' said
faltering. his hand on the
door-knob. IF there are letters for
you. TIL run back with them first
1t seemed but few minutes before
he came hurriedly in, and throwing
down couple Of letters before Vale
said: Robert, you could manage a
few days without me, l suppose.
why. yes, of course" answered
Vale. looking up. Seeing Atkinson's
face: What's wrong ?"
II have bad news from home.
don't know how bad until l get there
and find out for myself My sister
writes, !" referring to the letter he held
in his hand. 'that they are in great
trouble, and wish me to come to them
at once. / can't guess what it is. -
go at once" said Vale, and if
can help you-but you know that with
put my telling you.
Yes. ] know said Atkinson.
In few days Vale received letter
which ran thus:
DEAR RoBERT-The trouble Of which my
siste wrote is no fancy. It appears that every
hing my mother had she lately invested, by the
advice of a well-meaning but foolish friend. In
securities which have proved most insecure.
IN short, all is gone. II there were any hopes
II recovering any portion OF IT should take
Iteps to that effect, but it is entirely lost. My
mother and sister have no one to loo to but
ne, and It must be the work OF the rest OF my
life to keep them from feeling this loss. So
'ou see my future has been mapped out for me
Without any assistance Of my own, and 1t only
emains for me to carry it out.
In postscript he added: This set
les every thing
Atkinson's absence had seemed to
Vale a foretaste of the loneliness that