Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1894-04-05


ooh, Ethel" sighed the weary,
young voice, II am in no humor for
music.
"The box OF books has come from
Nudes; shall We have it unpacked?"
"If you like; only do not bring any
thing near me-
Then Ethel went up TO her friend
and laid her cool hand on the hot
brow,
"Tired Of sunshine, Of flowers, of
music, of books and OF everything else
--Leonia, what has come over you? |
thought you the brightest, gayest,
happest girl in tho wide world-what
has made you grow tired OF everything,
DEAR"
"Do seem to be so? Perhaps | am
like the girl in the fairy ale-spoiled
by too much happiness" she said.
go and fetch nice book-a novel
where the heroine loves gold better
than anything else in the world"
81 do not think 1t would be possible
to find such u book, replied Miss
Dacre; "most heroines are made good
and attractive"
Then good woman never cares
about money" said Leonie, quickly.
"A good woman is never mel cenary,
Leonie, as enc must be who makes
money her first thought"
Ethel went TO find the novels, and
Lcrnie opened one; but the page was
never turned; she was not reading, but
trying to solve Il problem was she
mercenary, or was she not? And She
found 1t impossible TO decide.
81 cannot be mercenary," she said, to
herself. IF Paul Flemyng would have
taken half my fortune when he came
home, would most cheerfully have
given it to him; therefore cannot love
money for moneys sake. If any one
came to me poor and distre sed, | would
relieve them with bountiful hands. |
love to be generous; love to show
queenly hospitality to make handsome
presents, to pay ample wages; like to
spend money as queens spend troy
ally, lavishly; so am not mercenary.
| do not love it for its own sake.
why do | love it," she thought
again Because it brings me the
power OF being generous. 1t brings
me position, splendor, homage, and
ministers to my every caprice. Yet do
| care so much for it as to sacrifice my
love TO it,"
Never one page of the book was
turned; she was asking herself, was it
too late, even now? She might own
the truth to Lady Fanshawe at once,
and be happy with Sir Bertram with
out splendor. She had forgotten for d
few minutes the note she had sent to
Paul Flemyng; she remembered it now
with deep-drawn, bitter sigh. 1t was
too late; she must go on in the path
she had chosen for herself
"How am ! to meet the morrow"
she asked herself, YEARLY "Bertram
will come, and to send him from me
will break my heart and his" The bare
idea made her look so pale and i'll that
Lady Fanshawe rose in alarm.
Lady Charnleigh, she said, do not
lose patience with me, but ! insist on
your going to your own room. You
look SO i'll that my heart aches for
you.
Does it, auntie? Then l will go, and
not unwillingly either, for this has
been the longest day of my life."
II wonder" said Lady Fanshawe to
Miss Dacre, when they were alone, IF
she has ouarreled with Sir Bertram
Gordon. l am quite sure there is
something wrong; | have never seen
Lady Charnleigh out Of spirits since |
have known her until now"
al do not think there has been any
quarrel, " replied Miss Dacre, quietly;
"Sir Bertram went away last evening
quite as much in love as ever"
Meanwhile Leonie walked slowly to
her own room, and asked herself
whether she could possibly live
through many such days as these or
not, and whether, after all, she had
not paid dearly for her title and
wealth.