The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1892-09-10

Mrs. Radcliffe taps her reprov
ingly with her costly ivory fan.
My dear girl, you should no
undervalue such a compliment from
millionaire like Mr.. Folsom.
Eloise's glossy dark eyebrow:
suddenly lift themselves.
A millionaire, Mrs. Radcliffe
Yes. Oh, his wealth is immense
l thought you knew it.
No, | have not heard.
Well, that is not strange, when
one remembers that you could not
have known anything about him.
Five days pass. During this time
John Folsom and Eloise Bristow arc
much together. They each soon
discover in the other charm which
lies wholly apart from that which
first brought them together in such
close mutual attraction; but it is
doubtful whether, except for certain
spurious intelligence impaired by
Mr.. Radcliffe, either of these two
young persons would have had sui
fcient interest IN the others acquaint-
ance TO have made the delightful dis
covery which has now resulted for
both.
Yes, Eloise Bristow and Mr.. Fol.
som are thoroughly in love with
each other at the end of week S
time. More than once, while think
ing of how superbly her revengeful
scheme had succeeded, Mrs. Rad
cliffe's eyes flash with malicious
triumph.
At last John Folsom tells himself
that he is foolish not to avow his
love, since Eloise has given more
than single marked sign by which,
if he cannot read the exact truth, he
has at least had reason to guess it.
One day while passing the library
door he catches the CLEAN of a mus
lin morning dress.
1t is she, he mentally murmurs,
and provided she is alone, shall
not leave her until l have declared
the truth.
Eloise proves to be alone. Mr..
Folsom seats himself at her side,
and in a few moments has spoken
words that bring the rich color
glowingly to the girls cheeks and
make her eyes sparkle with these
humble words:
1 have no right to address you as
l am doing; for oh. Eloise! even
should you consent to become my
wife the world would call me little
else than scheming fortune hunter.
A moment after the last words are
uttered Eloise Bristow leaps to her
feet.
A fortune hunter! she bursts forth
Indignantly. IL do not under
stand you, Mr.. Folsom, unless you
mean what you say for cruel satire!
He rises now.
Satire? Why, of course do not
The facts are plain enough. My
fortune is now a mere wreck of what
it once was, and you are immensely
wealthy.
A bitter, bleak sort of laugh leaves
Eloise Bristow's lips.
Did Mrs. Radcliffe tell you that
that | was immensely wealthy! she
asks excitedly.
Yes.
Eloise sinks back into her seat
fixing her eyes on John Folsom:
face, which has become very
pale, like her own. she nov
continues. And Mrs. Radcliffe tolc
me the same thing regarding you
A slight pause. Suddenly she asks
"Have you ever thought, in pas
times, that Mrs. Radcliffe had any
dislike toward you?
John Folsom's answer than comes
promptly enough, yes, l used II
believe she hated me.
Eloise laughs again, though les
bitterly than before.
And | fell that she hated me a,
along, now. This is her revenge.
Those four words exercise
strange effect upon the man VIII
hears them. He seats himself at he
side. He fixes upon her face pal
of eyes that glow strangely.
| Eloise Bristow, he begins, wit
solemn, determined voice, the stor
of my wealth is what first attracte
you toward me; but now that kno
me, is there not any feeling in yor
heart wholly apart from all this?
Eloise makes no answer. ST.
lowers her eyes and begins
tremble. The man at her side draw
nearer.
. Eloise. | love you well enough
die for you-yes, even in the:
: queer, prosaic times of ours. Ar
5 il this-hetAAcase, surely love yor
wer, darlingi L
I'D speak it O
S. Radcliffe ne