Nevada County picayune., 1890-04-23
HORSESHOE LUCK.

looking wistfully into the glitterlng sheet of mirror that extended to the other side of the room into an in. definite prospective of onyx tables, stands of ferns, Japanese screens and Indian hangings. "Six-and- thirty and why should one be compelled to give up all the sweetness of life a, six-and-thirty? Pm sure I don't look a day over thirty; and Algy Vance must be that at least, ,' Mrs. Blythe was very pretty woman-not the bud, but full blown rose-a plump, dimpled peachey- y-cheeked matron, who knew exactly how to make the most of all her middle-aged advantages.
 She had marrled Major Mortlake Blythe at seventeen, and he had left her a widow at seven and-twenty.
 ''I shall never be such fool as to marry again." said Mrs. Blythe.
 For the Major had by no means been perfection. He had left her just enough, by dint of strict econo- my, to live upon, especially as her only child had been taken to "bring mp" by quiet Quaker couple, the Majors relatives. And until now Mrs. Blythe had adhered resolutely to her decision.
 But Algenon Nane was a royalty handsome fellow, and the pretty widow was but human, and she had scribbled Rosamond Nane, !" Mrs. Algenon Vane," over and over again in her plotting book, and she had treasured up flower he had worn in his buttonhole, and she had corres- bonded with him during the winter he had spent in Bermuda, writing sprighty and amusing letters, with a semi-tone of seriousness underlying all that sparkling gossip.
 "He likes me little now," said the widow, land Pm determined he shall like me great deal more, '" Pm tired of this solitary life; Pm tired of counting every penny half a dozen times before l spend it. Algy is independently rich, and he's my beau ideal of a man. With him 1 do believe l could be quite happy. He kon't know about Lydia; but of course that would be no objection. Uncle Johsua and Aunt Rebecca will keep her. Dear me, dear me. she must be growing to be big girl now," and Mrs. Blythe shuddered at the idea.
 And this moment the door flew open, and in burst a tall, dusty, di- sheveled girl, some half a head taller than Mrs, Blythe herself, with the white-capped maid following help lessly behind.
 "Please, ma a'am," said the maid, ''she wouldn't wait for me to take her card up"
 "Mamma, Pm Lydia!" cried the breathless apparition. Little Liddy, mamma-don't you remember? Tell that hateful girl to go awayl A card, indeed Am to send up cards to my own mother!"
 Mrs, Blythe stood appalled,, in the soft yellow light streaming through the China-silk curtains. This fair headed, sun-burned young giantess, with the peony cheeks and the big blue eyes, the ill-litting gloves and faded cambric gown-could it be possible that this was the "little Liddy" of ten years ago? Oh, if Mir. Vane should see herl
 The girl looked around like one who views the entertainments of q fairy palace.
 "Oh, mamma, how pretty you are '" said she, 'and what lovely room Are you glad to see me, mamma, darling?"
 "My dearest child," gasped the widow, "what has brought you here?"
 Lydia clasped her hands; her countenance fell.
 Mamma" said she, "Im the most miserable creature in the world-and 1 want a hundred dollars. "
 "Lydial A hundred dollars! "
 And you must let me have it, /" vehemently went on Lydia. 'Pve killed Uncle Joshua's prize colt !! That is, l didn't exactly do it my self; but l was riding Pretty Jane' around the meadow, just for prac- tice. and I forgot and left the bars 1. hn.