The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-08-23

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but as a rule Mrs. Stackwell said the
house was quite warm enough without
fires.
"Our meals were irregular, and our food
Of the cOarsest and commonest descrip-
ton. 1 saved as much Of my allowance as
I could 10 buy little things for Gladys,
who was daily growing paler and weaker.
My father never came near us. Occa-
sionally he wrote In answer 70 some let
ter OF mine in which had prayed him TO
allow US a little more money for the nee
essaries Of life, without which Gladys
would die. But he put me of always with
some fresh cynicism, and so no help
would come from him.
Il was In despair At times I longed to
go out into the world and fight for my
own living; but meanwhile / had GLADYS
to think of, and not a friend i'm the world
TO help me. None of our relations ever
came near US, and 1 suppose no girls were
ever SO alone in the world as we were.
Then at last. one day. change came.
Il was awakened in the morning by the
solitary maid -of-all-Work who told me in
scared voice that neither her master
nor her mistress were in the house, and
the bed in their room had not been silent
in. ] got up to ascertain the truth of her
report. l had barely dressed when the
! front door bell rang several times 1t
was scarcely answered when a stream of
people poured into the small passage
They seemed excited, and talked in loud
angry tones, while some Of them waved
bits OF paper about.
They were the tradespeople who had
supplied the household with wares, and
they had come TO know what had happen
| ed as soon as the report had reached their
ears that the Stackwells had gone 1 did
my best to pacify them. but to no pur-
| pose. In fact. / think they looked upon
me as a defaulter. too.
4 wired to my father. but the message
| did not reach him until the next day, as
he had gone away somewhere.
He came down then, and from his man
| ner any outsider would have thought that
| Gladys and I were the originators Of the
whole affair. He sent a couple Of tele-
grams to London, and then waited Inn
patiently for the answers.
| Il suppose he got them, for I'm the after
noon he came and told me to get ready at
| once to leave for London. So / hacked IN
our few belongings and we set off.
He scarcely spoke to us all the way.
but the journey was not a long one and
after leaving the station where we got out
| of the train, and driving for about TWEEN
| ~ minutes, the cab pulled up at the door
| of large red brick house, one of row
of similar buildings. My father got out as
| the door was opened by a footman in blue
plush and powder. Gladys and / were not
| accustomed to such magnificence and
were much awed by the size of the house
and its general air of luxury We were
ushered into the drawing room, and as the
| door opened to admit US, a tall, stout,
| taded-lOoking woman rose from a sofa and
surveyed US at arm Length.
| Good gracious, James, she exclaimed,
| what fright you have given me- Don't
you know l detest telegrams2 The mere
sight of the envelope gives me palpita-
lions! And then to find there was really
nothing in it-adding insult to injury,
should call it.
She delivered these remarks in short
gasping breaths. My father scarcely spoke
| to her at all, and finding she had ali the
argument to herself, She turned to take
| stock of u.s.
$50 these are my nieces. are thev?"
she asked, looking us up and down. You
can come into the room, my dears,' she
continued, finding that we seemed to pre-
fer the near proximity of the door
| I am your aunt she went on; your
dear papa's only sister. Perhaps you were
not aware that you had an aunt?
II murmured something to that effect
! under my breath. My aunt then advanced
| towards us, and drew us into the light
| and scanned our faces. She gave a little
start of surprise, and turning to my IA
ther exclaimed, Good heavens, James!
you never told me the girl was a beauty.
What a face! What eyesi What hairg
THAT was the first time in all my life
Beatrice, that anyone had said | was
pretty. 1t was a curious sensation then
and l shall never forget It, Well. to shor-
| ten my story, my father left us with his
| sister, whose name was Fraser. She
| agreed to keep us both for a few days
until some new home could be found for
US. But to our great surprise the days
went by, and we found ourselves still set
! tied in Great Norfolk street. 1t was like
a fairy tale-the sOrdid poverty Of The
FRS one day, and this life next Ny
aunt looked through all our clothes, and
pronounced them only fit for the rag-bag
They were sent away, and others took
their place But the others-Ohl Beatrice,
1t was hard to believe we were still the
same girls, they were so beautiful.
Then one day my aunt called me to her
! room and talked TO me for a long time
/ She told me that all the good things we
| had been given came from her. She said
l was the kind of girl who would be
! credit to her If taken about and turned
out well. l was to 90 through London
| season, she said, and make a grand mar
! riage, and then she would see what could
i be done for Gladys. All this l listened to
! in silence. Ny aunts generosity was won
derful, but / seemed overpowered by it's
weight at first. / felt great things were
! expected of me, and | dreaded lest
| might fail in the performance of them.
But the meshes of fate were even then
woven around me, and l was perfectly
| powerless to cleave my way clear Of them.
1.-THE season began-and ended. My aunt
went everywhere, and took me with her
! 1 was spoken of as the reigning beauty.
Do you think me vain, Beatrice, to tel
/ you this. 1 never valued my own good
/ looks; and now / wish / had been ugly,
quite ugly, so that no one would ever
have given me moments thought. The
season was drawing to a close. and my
aunt impressed on me the Importance OF
making a desirable marriage before the
! year was ended.
EARLY in the season I met the man
who became my husband. He was then
fabulously rich, and on the lookout for a
| wife, people said. He was introduced 10
me at a ball, and he haunted me every
where I went. My aunt was delighted.
She meant well by me. but she was too
ambitious to look behind great wealth and
! its social advantages, for the true ring
which all good coin possesses. i do not
think, to do her justice, that she had ever
| heard anything detrimental to the reputa-
! ton of Robert Farquhar. But / hated the
| man. / hated his cruel cunning face, ana
| ! turned from his proposal with horror.
Some man told me once that Bob Farqu-