Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1900-01-15
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| the dropping inquire, ana lalQ ner 1OV-
ing arms around the SQuire's neck.
"Papa," she said, "can you not cheer
up? 1t might have been worse-death
is worse"
"Worse, Dolores?" he questioned,
sadly. "Ah, no! Death is much more
beautiful than poverty and ruin. |
could face death with smile; but
am the last of the Cliefdens, and the
disgrace is worse than DEATH
"There is no disgrace for you, papa.
It is not your fault that other men are
rogues and swindlers. Tell me, dear,
what will be the worst for us?"
''The worst for me will be the work.
house or an almshouse in my old age;
for you there will be hard work, Do
| lOres!"
''Is it as bad as that?" she asked,
wonderingly. "Must we leave White
Cliffe?"
There is not even a chair in the
house which belongs to u.s." he replied.
''The house, pictures, furniture, plate,
are no longer ours. We are absolute
paupers, Dolores-and that is a hard
thing to say
every hard, papa, but I am quite
sure I can work. I can make money
enough to keep you and myself. I will
do anything-teach paint, sing; I
would go on the stage-I would do
anything to help you"
A softened look came over his worn
| face
''T know it, Dolores; but you have
never been used to work. The Clief-
dens have until now kept some of their
old state If I could only have lived
at White Cliffe until it was time to
die If I could only have slept where
the Cliefdens sleep! But shall die in
an almshouse, and be buried like a
pauper. How could you work for me,
child?" he continued ''I have lived in
luxury all my life; I must have dainty
food and choice wine; L must have
comforts good fires good clothes, my
books, my papers. How could you earn
money for all those things?"
Before she had time to answer there
came a great peal at the door-bell.
II cannot see any one, Dolores he
said; and even then the very utter
ance of the beloved name seemed to
peated, dwelling tenderly on the word
But the visitor would take no denial;
he had followed the servant to the
drawing-room.
81 must come in, Cliefden," he said.
81 must see you"
ct is Lord Rhysworth," said Do
lores, unclasping her arms, with a lit
tie flush on the face.
The visitor entered-a tall, aristo-
cratic-looking man, rather above mid
die age, but not old enough to be called
elderly. He was not handsome but his
face was that Of a noble, generous
man.
''You must forgive me, Squire he
said "I could not help coming to see
you Is the news I hear true? Has
the company failed?"
Eyes; and I am a ruined man
ruined, penniless- shall soon be
| homeless. I, the last of the Cliefdens,
in my old age must die-a pauper!"
1.-THE Squire's voice sunk into a muir
muir, and his head fell upon his breast.
Lord Rhysworth turned to the girl,
whose face had grown colorless with
emotion.
SIS it quite true, Miss Cliefden?" he
asked.
'Quite true, my lord" she answered
''I am very SORRY" said Lord Rhys-
worth. The words were simple but
they had the ring of sincerity and
truth. IT am more sorry than if the
same misfortune had happened to my
out of it?''
mo" answered the Squire sadly
IT must leave White Cliffe and find
refuge in a wOrk-house or an aims
house, and DOlOres-oh, Dolores, my
darling will have to work. I am the
last of the Cliefdens, and such is my
destiny. Fate has been more cruel to
mel"
Again the soft arms stole around his
neck And sweet voice whispered to
| him
Papa, what some men call fate
others call Providence and Providence
can never be cruel"
But the Squire would not listen.
'I am an old man." he murmured;
my eyes are dim, and my hair is gray.
am an old man, and it is hard to eat
pauper's bread and die like a pauper"
Then Lord Rhysworth went up to
him and, laying his hand upon his
shoulder said gently
''Will you listen to me, Squire? 7
can find you a way out of your trouble
"a way by which you may live at
White Cliffe, by which you may enjoy
a good income, with every comfort and
luxury, until your death, if you will
listen to me-" There was a curious
hesitation in his manner, a pallor on
his face, and a tremor in his voice.
Let me marry your daughter, Do
lores," he went on "and you shall be