The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1889-04-17

companion, and you must call me Mss
Smith, and snub me, and order me
about
Thus all was arranged when the little
letter Elsie had been 50 long expecting
arrived, and breaking its blue seal, she
read that Mr. Harrington would pay his
respects to Miss seabright in an hour.
How Miss Seab;ight laughed as she sat
waiting in the drawing-room, watching
Betsy sail upland down with ali her as
sumption of dignity Betsy, with the
most amiabie intention, would have been
snre of offending; but Betsy. bent on be-
ing unpleasant, would be a grand sue
cess. Just then Betsy herself leaned
from the window.
Oh, miss she cried, there's car
riage at the door, and there's gentle
man coming out of it. Bless us if that's
him, don't wonder you want to be off
With your match. Deary, oh. deary
me!
But before she could explain a servant
had brought Elsie a card bearing the
name Of Harold Harrington and as she
arose the most extraordinary figure en-
tered the room. He also. though he
seemed to move actively enough, walked
on crutches- On his head, from which
be had removed his cap, was black
skull cap, such as entirely bald old gem
tlemen then wore His nose was GER
tainly well shaped, but j; was much the
color of red fannel and about his
throat was a muller.
This was Harold Harrington.
Elsie's surprise was so great that
she sank into chair, and forgot to
prompt Betsy as she intended. But
Betsy needed no prompting. She was
not in the least embarrassed. She ad-
vaneed TO meet Mr.. Harrington with a
grin of supreme insolence upon her face,
and she burst into laugh.
WELL she said, you are my young
man, are you? / must say, whoever
picked you out showed no mighty great
taste; 'twasn't for your beauty, that's
plain
No, madam" said the new arrival, it
was not for my beauty Do address
Miss Seabright ?"
"Why, who else should | be-" cried
Betsy, Twas not for your cleverness,
neither, you were chosen. But now
you've come, sit down. Been in the wars,
haven't your"
My infirmities." sighed the young
man, are the result of my recklessness
as a boy. ] had a most sympathizing
letter from you regarding the fall which
broke my limb. You remember il? You
also condoled with me upon the careless
shot which cost me my eye, though you
did not know 50 serious was the result.
1t was while was ON trip to Switzer-
land that broke my back, and, while
endeavoring to drink some boiling tea
the h0usekeeper left carelessly on the
table, | scalded all the hair off my head.
This scar upon my cheek is the result of
having attempted to shave myself with
my poor fathers razor It was injndi-
cious of him not TO tell you the result of
my injuries, but now YOU see them for
yourself l will not go into further par
ticulars. Yeu remember all my acci
dents
YES said Betsy, " and a fine figure
of a man they've made you. You'd do
TO scare crows from All orchard, | must
say, and you're sent to me, that l might
have my pick and choice of offers to mar
ry. It's enough to make one die of
laughing"
Then you refuse me- said the young
man eagerly.
"Oh, no" said Betsy. @Oh, no, don't
there's the fortune, you know. Money is
money, and even an object like you is
better than poverty I'll have you
Though how the folks will laugh to see
MS paired off together! One comfort
though; 50 broken down as You must be;
you can't last long"
"0n the contrary, | expect to live to
be eighty" said the young man.
Expectations don't go for much, f" said
Betsy Look how the old folks went.
We were deprived of their affections
very suddenly" said the young man,
signing My father loved yours dearly,
Miss Seabright"
Folks will take queer notions" said
Betsy. Well, must say you are an OBJ
ject can't help laughing when l look
at you"
We shall have very merry life to-
gether,' said Harold, if your disposi-
ton continues"
oh, shall not see much of you" said
Betsy, q | can promise you, after the ring
is on. What possessed you to smash
yourself reso? But shan't refuse you.
Its money that makes the mare CO. says
the old song"
1t may be, said Harold. " But letthe
mare stand still for me, then. / quite
decline to fulfill the engagement So.
madame, you have the fortune without
any incumblance in my person"
And good riddance of bad rubbish,
say !" cried Betsy. There are better
fish in the sea than you, or women would /
be poorly off. You're going, Ell? Well |
the sooner the better. Miss Smith, please |
ring the bell.'
Elsie arose and touched the bell. But |
now that the deed was done and her OBJ |
ject attained, she felt dreadfully ashamed |
Of herself Certainly more unhappy /
and singular object than this before her |
could not well be imagined. Indeed, !
as was her heart, she felt /
that his appearance was not only pain /
ful, but almost ludicrous, but all the more
should he have been tenderly and kind
~ cared for.
Why had she played this childish
prank, and allowed q vulgar woman to
insult him in her presence? And this
gentleman--for, hideous as he was, he
evidently was gentleman by breeding
as well as by birth-how would be hence
forth think of her? he would always be-
Iieve that she had uttered those rude
words-she, and none other. And as he
left the room she followed him, and the
servant who had answered the bell re-
: - a. J