Baxter Springs news. [volume] (Baxter Springs, Kan.) 1882-1919, 1891-12-26
to shout: "Cut me off with shilling, II
YOU like, but stop doing that"

I cannot in honor give up my promised
wife to please you, and would thou
sand times refuse II even could. Mar
garet is n good girl, and l will bear
her no Grudge if you make her your
heiress
"You are q fool-a fool Harry"
shrieked my aunt II won't! 1'llleave
it all to Dicky Colson, your cousin.
He'll jump at Maggie, though she, poor
goose, would have given her eyes for
you"
''Good-by. Aunt Agg," / interrupted,
firmly and gravely. God bless You"
and marched straight out of the room
re treating with all the honors of war.
Even rs | closed the door a scornful
grunt or two annoyed my ears, with
the bitter taunt: "Ho! So we are on our
high horse; but just wait six months,
my fine young man. and see il you don't
come to your senses" Six months later
/ l was married and on my way out to
India, having got an appointment on
the staff of friendly general whose
galloper had been in our last cam
paign. And here ends fyette the first,
rs the old poets used to say.
Ring up the curtain now. on an In
dian New Years dinner six years later.
| and my family-think of that-are
gathered round the table. 1t is small,
round table, chosen tonight for cozi-
ness, so that INV wife and l are near
each other, and our five- year-old heir
sits between us, with his golden head
not very high above the tablecloth.
Opposite him sits Thorold, u true and
tried friend to MS both and comrade
of mine. Maude is more lovely than
ever in my eyes. Just as winning and
laughing, but q glorious woman instead
of mere charming girl. She looks es-
pecially beautiful to-nighti in a new ball
gown, a triumph of exquisitely fitting
satin about the bodice, and of bewilder-
ing fiuffiness us to the skirt, while her
bare, snowy neck and bosom rise out
of some soft yelling accessories that an
angel might not disdain to take pattern
by rs trimming to spirit robe.
"Ah. 1t is pity you have not got
Aunt Agg's diamond necklace to wear
tonight. You would make all the
other women faint with envy them" /
remarked, affecting critical air, but
inwardly full of pride as surveyed
my wife's appearance. We were going
to dance ut Government house after
ward; it was to be the thing Of the
season.
IF had, / should be the happiest
woman in India laughed Maude
back. LAS it is, perhaps, l am second
happiest. But it is too bad they
should have disappeared so mysterious
"; or rather that no living being
seems TO know what your aunt did
with them-and she Is dead"
What is the story? Tell rs all about
it." nut in Thorold. "Nas that the old
lady who cut you off with, l suppose, the
probverbial shilling for marrying mine
hostess here, like wise and lucky
man."
MY dear fellow, She cut me off
with plum pudding" l ruefully eX-
planned. 1.-The very pudding you are
soon about to be regaled with. The
story is briefly. as you know, that l
was disinherited for not consenting to
marry Miss Margaret Macintosh.
whom my aunt wished to go with the
property, so to speak. And year
later, that Is, six months after we were
married. my cousin, Dicky Colson. was
welded to the aforesaid Miss Mackin-
tosh, and came in for all my relatives
fortune four years ago. May they
both be happy ever after. But my
poor aunt must have had a yearning
for me still in her hard old heart, for
before her death it was some time in
autumn) she wrote me strange let
ter. 1t was to this effect:
DEAR HEHRY-You know was always q
woman OF my word, so II will be no surprise to
you that have left my fortune to your cousin
Richard. But hearing that your wife Is pretty
young woman, and Yell-behaved that is q
feather in your cap. Maude isn't it: send
you my forgiveness. And you will receive
further plum pudding. prepared by my own
hands. which Idesire you will have served up
at your own table on New Years day when
ever you feel in your heart that you likewise
freely forgive the memory OF your aunt
AGATHA UPCHER.
"P. S.-The doctors tell me / may get better
OF my illness. But they are oil idiots or cow
ards, for shall not
"And she was right, poor old lady, for !
she died one week later. The curious
thing was that, in her will, she said:
4 have already given my diamond
necklace to Henry Cpcher, my dear
nephew, who will receive it safely, |
trust, some future day. That is all.
And though Margaret-Mrs. Colson,
mean-has hunted for that necklace
everywhere, though she has consulted
detectives, and taken every trouble, be-
sides writing Us the kindest of letters,
the necklace was nowhere to be found
after my sunt's death. 1t is clean
gone, vanished. No one seems TO
blame. The diamonds were usually
kept at the bank, and my aunt herself
kr,ly fhau, aw,~u n far, daxya hafora haY.