The Opelousas courier., 1889-03-02
LOVE OR MONEY.
Final Choice Of a Mercenary Little
Wretch.

She was so p~retty-so very pretty
90 childishly willful, with her face
puckered into frowns, and her lips
pouting, that the heart of the man
looking at her ached with heavy pain,
and responded with throbs of agony rs
she stabbed it again and again with
her words. He loved her deeply, and
yet SO unselfishly, that he was honestly
trying to hope she would be happy
without him, although his life-dream
had been to contribute to that happi-
ness.
''You are so unreasonable" she pro-
tested. "to tell me now that you love
me-"
But I hoped to-day, "he said, sadly.
styou might still be free to chapose
your own future"
why, so lam; but my grandfatner's
choice for me is" She hesitated, and
then, leaving her sentence unfinished,
rushed on, in rapid u~tterance: Frank
and / have known each other since we
were little children, and you know I
was always amercenary little wretch"
Were YOUR he asked, with a smile
more pitiful than tears.
..You know / was! You know I
used to fondle grandpa, and coax AMI
fiatter him, just because he was rich;
for he was not very a~fectionate. I
was planning for a legacy, and I must
have one, even if / have to take Frank
with it; and Frank is good-natured,
and fond of me-"
And your grandfather leaves you
nothing if you do not marry Frank?"
Nothing! He can refuse me but I
can not refuse him without FORGETTING
all share in grandfather's money. I
call it shabby, but there it Isl And I
am SO tired of being poor, so tired of
turning old dresses, patching my boots,
saving a fares to buy gloves. Oh,
Bert! don't look as If you wanted TO
cry. You are well rid of such a selfish
little horror as / am, you are indeed!''
Il will try to think So" he said,
pressing his white lips together for a
moment before speaking. II hope
you will be very, very happy. But
II you should find, on consideration,
that
Now, p~leasen she said, looking up
oil him with misty eyes.
IL only want to say, dear-I may
call you dear once-that life with me,
although not such y life of luxury as
your cousin Frank offers, will not be
absolute poverty, while I have x.
strength to, work for you.'
but you have only a salary, and
not . large one.n q
Every truel still. ii you can think
Of me and my salary with ~favor-wikh
love, dear-one word, Come will
bring me to your side. i will not
tease You any more to-day. Good
bye.n
He was gone q moment later, and
the unreasonable little lady was cry
ing like a baby.
I'm not worth his lover she
sobbed, tearing her very best handker-
chief with her nervous fingers; ..Tm
only o nasty little bunch of avarice
and selfshness! But I am glad it is
over, and now-good-bye to poverty.
music lessons and make-shifts. I will
accept Aunt James invitation!n
Aunt James invitation had been to
the effect that, as her father had
wished her son and her niece to marry,
she thought it would be well for said
niece, Elsie Reed, to make a visit to
L. and become accustomed to her
future home.
So il was only three hours after her
parting with Herbert Bedlow when
Elsie drove to the depot TO take a
train for L. and leave poverty,
music lessons. and. perhaps, true,
earnest love behind her forever. So
she assured herself.
Her welcome was d warm one from
her aunt, but Frank was stiff and em-
barrassed. Every wish of the little
heart was gratified iii the new home.
Dresses. bonnets, jewelry, were given
her with lavish hands, and she fitted
from one superb room to another, try
ing to fancy herself the mistress of the
wealth around her.
The grand piano, under her skilled
fingers, gave forth treasures OF music.
all OF the snowy, brilliant type, and
her voice, like q birds, carolled this
blithest ballads.
But surely no bird or butterfly was
ever more restless in a gilded cage
than Elsie in her new home. She was
never still. Walking. riding. driving,
gardening. fitting here and there, till
Aue Jane, d model OF repose, won
uersd she did not drop down with
ectual eshaustion.
don't slsep ven unless I an