Custer chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, Black Hills, D.T. [S.D.]) 1880-1890, 1889-08-31
Mr.. NELSON'S WILL.
BY II. RIDER

BY ii. RIDER HAGGARD.
II was In this terrible emergency that
she h~ad-driyen thereto by her agony of
mind-tried TO get something beyond her
strict n legal due out Of Meeson's-Mee-
sons that had made hundreds and hun
dreds out Of her book and paid her fifty
pounds. We know how she Jared in that
attempt. On leaving their Office, Augusta
bethought her Of her banker. Perhaps he
might be willing to advance something.
1t was a horrible task, but she determined
to undertake IL; so she walked to the bank
and asked to see the manager. He was
out, but would be in at three o'clock. She
went to a shop near and got a bun and
glass of milk, and waited till she was
ashamed to wait any longer, and then she
walked about the streets till three o'clock.
At the stroke of the hour she returned, and
was shown into the managers private
room, where a dry, MISUNDERSTANDING
little man was sitting before "a big book.
IL WAS not the same man whom Augusta
had met before, and her heart sank pro-
portionately.
What followed need not be repeated here.
TIL manager listened to her faltering tale
with a 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 POI
litely bowed her out.
1t was nearly four O'Clock upon a damp
driZzling afternoon, aNovember afternoon
that hung like n living misery over the
black slush of the Birmingham streets, and
would in itself have sutiiced To bring the
lightest-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 maid-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, n small
one, for the coal was economical by means
of two large 1irebricks, and on n table
(Augusta's writing-table) placed at the
further side of the room was a parafline
lamp turned low. Drawn up in front, but
"A little to one side Of the fire, was a sofa
covered with red rep, and on the sofa lay
a fair haired little form, so thin and fragile
that it looked like the ghost or outline of a
girl rather than a girl herself. 1t was
JEANNE, her sick sister, and she was
asleep. Augusta stole softly up to look AT
her. II vas a sweet little face that her
eyes fell on, although il was so shockingly
thin, with long curved lashes, delicate
nostrils, and a mouth shaped like a bow.
All the lines and grooves which the chisel
of Pain knows so well how to carve were
smoothed out of il now, and in their place
lay the shadow of a smile.
Augusta looked at her and clenched her
| fists, while q lump rose in her throat and
her gray eyes filed with tears. How could
| she get the money to save her? The year
before "a rich man, a 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 pounds!
just then JEANNE woke up, and stretched
her arms ont to her.
$50 you are back at last, dear" she said
in her sweet, childish voice. 1T has been
so lonely without you. Why, how wet
yon 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 rs the wind shakes u reed.
Her sister turned and obeyed, and then
came and sat by the sofa and took the thin
little hand in here.
We'll, 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 l suppose that we can't go
abroad?"
only shook her head. The child buried
her face in the pillow and gave a sob or
two. Presently she was quiet, and lifted
it again. "Gussie, love-" she said, don't
be angry, but i want to speak to you.
Listen, my sweet Gussie, my angel. Oh,
Gussie, you don't know how / love you!
1t is all no good, it is useless struggling
against it, l must die sooner or later;
though / am only twelve, and you think
me such a child, | am old enough to I'M
derstand that. / think" she added, after
pausing to cough, that pain makes one
old; l feel as though / were fifty. Well,
SO you see i may as well give up lighting
against 1t and die ut once. i am only "a
burden and anxiety to you'll may as well
die at once and go to sleep"
Don't, JEANNE, don'tl' said her sister,
In a sort of cry; you are killing mel"
JEANNE laid her hot hand upon Angus
ta's arm. ''Try and listen to me, DEAR"
she said, ''even IL it hurts, because / do so
want to say something. Why should you
be SO frightened about mes Can any place
that / can 60 TO be worse than this placer
Can ! suffer more pain anywhere, or be
more hurt when l see you cryingf Think
how wretched 1t has all been. There has
only been one beautiful thing in our lives
for years and years, and that was your
book. Even when / 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 ReUtcu, and the Spectator, and
the rest of them. They said that you had
g~enius-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 o touch of childish spite
and vivacity, II have no doubt that he