The Mt. Sterling advocate. (Mt. Sterling, Ky.) 1890-current, 1895-11-26

| buob LUZ NuhO' anu viz ShOoh ~
smile fingered on his face for an in
slant
81 suppose l could not help you il
any way, Brandon? May / leave my
cheokbook?"
Tho question was put very hest
tatingly, and while the inner man
cried Eyes" in piteous accents the
outer gentleman declined the kind
offer with a courteous firmness.
II have read several of your short
stories, Minnie said as she pulled
on her gloves, land think they are
really clever. But you ought to try
something big--a three volume
novel;"
They are going out of fashion,
and besides they take such time.
One can scribble off short stories
like nursery rhymes, and the return
is quick"
He referred to the return of the
manuscripts. She thought he meant
payment.
But here" he went on rapidly,
going to the table and taking up his
unfinished book-"here is a novel I
have almost completed. None of
your ordinary drivel, but realism,
and that is the demand of the hour.
1t will not be more than 49, 200
words, and am confident of its sue
cess. "
when you finish your book,
Brandon" she advised, send it to
Irvine e. Irvine. They will publish
it in their Nom de Plume series.
You will have an eccentric, idiotio
poster all to yourself in the new art
style, and the puzzle of the hour
will be: What is the writer s name?
Is it he or a she?" Then, when
the papers have criticised your book,
praised it, slashed it and discussed
it for all it is worth, your real name
will be discovered. Interviewers
will regard you as a special prize.
Your photo will be attempted in the
evening news sheets, and you will
be famous.
Her throat burned while she
spoke. Her voice was very dry and
her bonhomme artificial.
"Goodby, goodby!"
kiss me, Brandon-a last kiss. "
He bent and pressed his lips to
hers, then turned quickly away as
she hurried down stairs and home
and sat in his chair far into the even
ing the most miserable man on earth.
1t was about a week later, and
Brandon was still in his lodgings.
His landlady had informed him
after Minnie's visit that some one
had settled a long standing debt, so
he need not worry over his little &C
count. He blessed her. She passed
the blessing on to Minnie Horton.
He sat at the table endeavoring TO
think out his novel, but he could not
compose a single sentence, for on
the news sheet spread out before
him there danced in the blacklist Of
typo a paragraph which had par
alyzed all the energy in him. Min
ME was to be married. She had tax
en- him at his word and would wed
young Percy Olcott in three months
time.
Well, that ended it. The one ray
of hope that had made his existence
bearable had been flashed from his
life, and death was the only panaoea.
Poison, hanging, drowning or bull
let-anything to get out of the world
quickly. And he had loved her so
much! OF course it was his own
choice If he could only have con-
ventionally murdered his pride and
laughed in the worlds face, he
might have beon happy with the
woman he loved, but he could not,
and now he could not live.
Thus ran his reflections, when the
landlady brought him letter, writ
ten on perfumed yellow paper. He
recognized the handwriting at once.
II was from Minnie and confirmed
the newspaper item. She retained
his ring as a keepsake
do not give way to ridiculous
passion, she advised him, and his
face hardened as he read the words
again. Not he! Why should he?
Must his life be suddenly extinguish-
ed, his hopes dispelled, because he
had lost the love of one woman?
There were scores of others-all
beautiful, all loving, all good-no,
some good-and when he was IA
nous! He had struck the right
chord, and his whole being sprang
into furious blaze of ambition-a
desire to cheat the woman that he
thought had Tilted him and laugh at
her in mockery and triumph,
He walked his room feverishly,
his hands clinched and his lips set
tight, while the fire of ambition
forged his determination and with