Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1896-02-26

Mrs. Racquet, tartly. 81 declare,
was mortified tn death when Mrs
Lawyer Lexington came to call, and
found him perched up IN the corner
And Melissa and I shall find it neces
sary to change our clearinghouse, j
this sort of thing is to continue" !"
"Mr. Morton is genrlemanl" sait
Mrs. Moody, reused into temporar,
spirit. ''ae has an equal right witt
yourself in the parlor."
Mrs. Racquet and Miss Melissa
gave warning at once.
Mrs. Moody did not care.
Miss jenkins, the district school
teacher, turned up her nose and left
the house.
"I'm not over-critical," she said
"but there are some things which NJ
one could stand!"
One by one the boarders dropped
away, and Major Peck grew deeply
indignant.
"Mrs. Moody" he said, "I wonder
at you, after all my advice and coun
sell"
"You wouldn't have me turn this
poor man out of doors now. of al
times, when he's i'll with malarial fe
ver?" said the widow.
"Yes, I wouldl" said the major,
stoutly.
But, for once, Mrs. Moody disre.
garded his advice.
The musical man was very i'll in.
deed-so i'll that he would undoubt
edlY have died without his landlady's
careful nursing md unremitted atten-
tion. But the major never went near
his fellaw-boarder.
s1f Mrs. Moody had taken my ad'
vice." he said, "she never would have
got herself into this dilemma. Nov
let her manage the best way she can =
The musical man, however, did not
die. He was without means to meet
his doctors bill; but Doctor Hayden
was benevolent soul, and declared
that he could wait until the profits
from the uncompleted volume shoulf
roll in. =
1t was the first of February when ct
last Mr.. Morton was able once more
to come down stairs to the sunny par.
lor window, where, by way of vel.
come, Mrs. Moody had placed pot OF
blossoming blue hyacinths.
Chow can ever thank you for oil
your care?" said he, earnestly.
The little widow burst into tears.
ell don't mind it," said she, "as
long-as long as you are we'll once
morel If you had died"
And there she stopped short, anu
grew crimson.
'Is it SOP" said the musical man, in
that soft, deep tenor of his. '.Is there
any one who really cares whether ]
live or die?"
81 dot" whispered Mrs. Moody,
with O fresh burst of tears.
1t would be difficult to describe eI-
actly how it happened. Middle-aged
love-making is never exactly like th-
ecstasies of youth. But it trans i, q,
somehow, that Mr.. Morton laid his
heart at Mrs. Moody's feet, and she
confessed that she had learned to love
him during that sine when she and
Death stood together over his pillow.
"You are my guardian angel!" said
he, fervently.
'sA poor one enough" she mur-
INJURED. "Oh, I wish, for your sake,
Paul, that I were younger and pref
tier !"
"You are beautiful in my sight," he
with emphasis. "Your eyes
were the first that beamed hope and
cheer upon me-your heart was the
first that softened to my woes. Sweet
heart, the flower which blooms at
noontide may surely be as sweet as
the morning violet!"
They were still talking thus, when
Mrs. Moody caught sight of letter
on the table.
"oh, I forgotl" she cried. ''The
nail-carrier And it was letter for
you, Paula foreign letter."
ga foreign letter, eh? That il
something which does not often greet
my eyes," said he. "And it has black
seal, too"
he broke it open and read it, while
Mrs. Moody trimmed the dead blooms
off her hyacinth plant with dainty
apir of SCISSORS.
"Mollie," he said, suddenly, "read
this. Henceforward, 1 have no Sc
crets from you."
1t was simple enough, and yet how
An accident in Swiss
railway train, an apoplectic fit, carry
ing off rich banker in London, and
the two lives which interviewed between
Paul Morton end a fortune had been
removed, almost on the same day.
The musical man, dlsinherited by
his family. because of his devotion to
art, jeered by his relations because he
resolutely remained true to music, was
rich at last.
Mrs. Moody grew pale.
''You-you won't care for me now,
said she. "Oh, Paul, am SO sorry
And yet ought to be glad"
Son the contrary" he said tender
~, 81 care for you more than ever.
Ny jewell can place you in fit set
ting at last. i"
OF course all this made q great sen,
sation in Redstone street. There were
plenty to declare that they had known
all along that Paul Morton was born
aristocrat; there were plenty to assert
that Mrs. Moody was scheming plot
ter. But neither of the pair cared Q
straw what people said.
Mrs. Moody sold out the lease and
good will of the establishment in Red
stone street and went to England with
her husband, the happiest of forty.
year-old brides.
While Major Peck polished his eyes.
glasses with the corner of a silk hand
ierchief, and murmured, thought.