The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1897-12-22
THE FAMILY GOLD PIECE.

beautiful woman sat sewing. She paused IN
| her work as her glance fell on it. 1t was
worth looking at. indeed, not only as the
peripatetic birthday and Christmas gift of
the whole family, but as the sole outward
and visible sign of a yet undiscounted fu-
ture. 1t represented the entire savings OF
| thirteen years of welded life.
When John Ferguson married he was
young man with prospects, and Lenore
| Smith was thought to have made very
| good match. 1t had taken all his ready
money to furnish the little home for his
bride and start in housekeeping, but they
| had made up their minds to be wise in econ
| omy and not trust altogether to his pros
poets as provision for the future. She re-
| membered now as if it were yesterday, the
night he had brought home that shining
| double-eagle and laid it in her hand.
| Yes, DEAR" he said in answer to her
| glad look of questioning. Here are our saw
ings for last month, yours and mine. If we
| can lay aside 500 every four weeks we shall
| be millionaires before long" They both
broke into happy laughter, for it seemed
SO easy thing to do.
| Next month there was an unexpected
plumbers bill, after that a visit from Johns
aunt, and after that a heavy assessment for
life insurance, and when Christmas came
| around John found the goldpiece in the toe
| of his stocking
| ITS ridiculous to save it when you need
| an overcoat much,'' said Lenore, with
| her arms around his neck.
| John vowed that there was to be a mild
winter, and that he would wait for a biz
gard before sacrificing their fortune. The
| blizzard did not come, and the fortune re-
manned intact to be bestowed later, tenn
porarily, on baby Nora, who laughed as she
held the golden coin, and dented it with her
little white teeth.
From that time forth saving proved an
| impossibility, but though even practised
| muscles found it difficult as years went by
| to perform the time-honored athletic feat
called making both ends meet, the wings of
| the double-eagle had never been clipped. A
look at the gold piece always seemed to
| make practicable what had been achieved
once, and it was easy to go without a need
ed article when 500 was there for the spend
| ing.
More children were born to them, the new
| cheap furniture became shabby with the
ugly shabbiness which age brings to such
| articles; "times" were proverbally bad, but
John and Lenore still lived in a land of
love whose light cast a glamour over all
| things. To their own eyes they were still
| young married people beginning life with
prospects prospects only temporarily OBJ
| scured even now by an immediate loss of
| Johns position; it was only accident of
each passing month that success still re-
NAMED intangible, and the sordid wearing
economies of life were but slight incidents
! in the grand triumphal march that led to
fortune.
Mrs. Ferguson, are you dreaming? May
| 1 come in and wake you up?''
Lenore turned with dimpling smile.
us that you, Alice? You must have left
the Cooper rather early to-day"
Il had headache said the newcomer,
a young girl, exceedingly tall and thin, but
with willowy, graceful figure, a great deal
of reddish hair and large melancholy brown
eyes. She perched herself on the edge of the
table, in detected attitude, laying her
portfolio down beside her, and looked at
Lenore appealingly. There was a sort of
| sweet forlornness in her aspect that sug-
gested a loving and neglected child.
It's so good to be with you she said,
| impulSiVely. Il couldn't draw another
stroke to-day. I'm perfectly wretched.'
What is the natter" asked Lenore,
well, for one thing, upset the tea over
my new gown last night, and had to wear
this old green skirt to-day. Oh, if you knew
and living with Henrys wife! How could
my brother ever have fancied her? And
and nor friend, Mr.. Wells, has asked me to
marry him."
"Alicer
1T is disgrace" she cried, vehement
| w. What have 1 done that / should be
that / should even have to know them?
He has grown-up children, older than |,
Don't cry dear" said Lenore
| II can't help it, replied the girl. search
ing desperately for her pocket handkerchief.
| Nobody ever takes care of me or loves me
but you. I'm too tall, that's the reason. You
know it's the reason-it is-it ISL She
swayed backward and forward, her face
Hidden IN the handkerchief -,
| this / shall laugh, and l really sorry for
| you-sorry that you have been so annoyed
Il never, never mean to get married"
| pursued Alice, still swaying and sobbing;
but / would sometimes like to be loved
| and cared for and admired, like other girls,
who are pretty and-little. You don't know
what it is to be thrown on your own
| resources and have to live with Emma.
It's no wonder I'm deteriorating every day.
Ii it were not for art, which adore, and
you you darling thing, don't know what
should do. She raised her head and
smiled brilliantly, the tears still hanging in
| her long lashes. It's so blessedly good of
| you to let me come here and tell you every
thing. l feel ever so much better already.
| mind me that it's Herbert's birthday She
took the coin in her slim hand, and began
| tossing it deftly up in the air and catching
Il again. II must Luy Herbert present
you must do nothing of the kind" said
| Lenore putting on her hat. "Give me that
| money reckless girl. Come, / am going
with you, Alice. 1 have an errand before
dinner"
! The girl looked at her critically. "You
| are such an ideal wife for poor man! l
| know you have had that hat three years.
| and your dress has been made over twice,
| but you are just too beautiful and serene.
| / always feel it an honor to go out with
| you; it's like walking with royalty"
| 1t was nearly dark when LenOre returned
to find Herbert clamoring for his gold
| money! which he had missed from the la
| BILE She racked her brains vainly to re-
| member whether she had put it in her
| pocketbook before leaving the house; she
| was almost sure that she had, but it was
| not there now There was a panic of queS-
| tions and answers and Lenore hurried off
| 10 question Alice who was certain that she
| had taken the money with her before. The
| two women hastily retraced their steps to
| the few shops where they had made pur
| chases but without avail. Then Alice bade
her friend adieu again, and Lenore returned
| home alone
She went to her own room to regain her
| usual calm. 1t was strange to think that
| the fortune was gone, that it could not be
| found anywhere-the poor little fortune
which represented all the dreams and am
| bition of early life. but back of this loss
| there was something which had been haunt
| ing her all the afternoon; those words of
| Alice, that she was IAN ideal wife for a
| poor man. A poor man. Was her husband
| that? The words grated on her conscience
roughly They had seemed so rich in youth,
in hope. in lovei
Her eyes roved about the room with its
| worn furnishings, and saw as plainly the
| hair touched with gray. his face with its
| lines Of care their ScantV provision for the