Sturgis advertiser. (Sturgis, Dakota [S.D.]) 1887-1???, 1890-12-18

Howard Atherling at the close or wor-
| snip, as he led the yelled lady ND for al,
Introduction. 19s 's s
Lena, dear, this is my old friend. Mrs.
Hunter, of whom have often spoken.
and this, turning to Bernice. who stood
by with q mischievous twinkle IN her
! eye, ais another friend of mine, Miss
Hunter
| Il am sure we shall be the best of
/ friends exclaimed Bernice, delightedlg.
| as she acknowledged the introduction by
| cordial clasp of the hand and a dainty
\ little kiss on the fair cheek of Mrs. How
| ard Altering.
Mamma Hunter said but little on the
way home; but her daughter ceased not
| to dwell on the exquisite taste of the
brides attire, fairly bubbling over that
her dear friend Howard Altering had
such ladylike wife.
There are more martyrs in this world
than those burned at the stake: and
Mrs. Hunter felt in her inmost soul that
she suffered all the keenness of chagrin
and wounded pride in that short service
hour.
But it could not be helped. Howard
Altering had right to marry whose
ever he pleased, for all her; and, now
that he had exercised that right, Ber-
nice would most likely have her bent in
preferfing that poverty stricken Thurs
by. Ii would come to more than that,
too, her motherly intuition told her. Oh,
it was dreadful!
She had always heard of the ablack
Sheep" but she didn't think such q
dreadful thing would crop out in the
Hunter family.
Now, something told her that Bcrnice
with her wit and beauty, her accom-
plishments and queenly bearing, would
metamorphose herself shortly into that
undesirable creature, and likely as not
elope with that bookkeeper-maybe be-
fore Christmas; she had noticed that they
were wonderfully intimate lately. Oh,
dear!
But the Atherlings had accepted her
invitation, and must be entertained
Her enviable title as the finest hostess in
all Merriweather must not suffer; so,
laying aside her terrible heartache, Mrs
Hunter put through the day in the red
hot crucible of substituting smiles for
tears
She felt more like weeping bitterly, of
course, than smiling down on the inno-
cent, girlish figure usurping the place
oAAS luu 81 IOilS5 SONSlSu 1OI DC1IlICSs Uub
there was no opportunity, and she must
live IT down
Finally the day dragged through, and
what Thanksgiving it had been, to be
sure. None but Mamma Hunter ever
knew how every moment of that awful
day heightened out on purpose to stab
her wounded, calculative pride through
and through.
Strange that Bernice did not by word
or look taunt her with the failure of her
plans; she was doubtless too we'll salts
fed with the prospect of being left with
Thursby only to entertain. Never mind,
that book-keeper should never enter the
house at Merriweather Place again; she
would have her revenge.
The Atherlings were gone now, tho
china and silver had been restored to
their respective closets, and Bernice had
gone sedately upstairs to write letter,
and neighbor, Mrs. Amsden, dropped
in.
"Of course you've heard the news, :"
she exclaimed, almost before Mrs. Hun
ter wheeled an easy chair into place for
her comfort.
"That Howard Altering is married?
Yes; he and his wife were here to-day, 4"
replied Mrs. Hunter, coldly.
"No! oh, no; that's nothing out of the
common" exclaimed Mrs. Amsden, i'm
patiently, call young folks marry, or ex-
pect to, at least; but what meant to tell
you is wonderfully good luck for your
daughter, Bernice."
81 don't understand" said Mrs. Hun
ter, mystificd, peering out, fguratively,
for the silver lining to the November
cloud.
"Why, don't you know" exclaimed the
other, exctedly, "that Bernice is the
only girl in all the wide world that Will
Thursby cares for, and now he's worth
his thousands and thousands"
Mrs. Hunter leaned toward her friend
with a strange commingling of hope,
doubt and fear on her aristocratic face.
Putting her hand on the arm of Mrs.
Amsden, she whispered:
ais that true?"
"Why, yes, of course it is. guess
ought to know, when Mr.. Amsden is en-