The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1900-07-05

I've followed your advice, she said,
accusingly. I've turned my back on
poverty"
She went up the stairs to her room,
and the women heard her turning the
key in her door.
Poor child,' said her mother, with
thrill of real compassion. Its little
hard for her now"
YES" admitted Aunt Lucy. But nei-
ther of them felt remorseful. They
looked on themselves in the light of
surgeons.
That night the girl folded up the
little blue frock she had worn and laid
it away in box. With it she laid
bunch of letters, withered rose, and
copy of Lucille"
what a spectacle I am making of
myself" she soliloquized, contemptu-
ously. STILL she reflected, 81 can
hardly be said to be a spectacle when
there are none to see. It's my own
foolishness, and no one will ever know
anything about it."
Two weeks later Erard Allen said to
her:
81 love you dearly, Lillian; 1 have
asked your mothers permission to
speak to you, and she is quite willing"
"Oh, yes" said the girl, with some Bit
terness, 81 know she is entirely will
ing"
"And are you? Are you willing 10 be-
come my wife?'
"Why not?" responded the girl,
sharply, and the lover had to make the
most he could of that ungracious ac-
ceptance.
Mrs. Erard Allen came to be known
as a brilliant and successful woman.
Her beauty, her wealth, her gracious
ness of manner, her hearty friendliness,
and her intelligence,wona distinguished
place for her.
what a different woman Lillian is
from what she might have been if she
had married that poor Dick Under
wood" Aunt Lucy Favorsham re-
marked at frequent intervals, and
Lilian's mother accAliesced. They had,
however, some complaint to make, in
spite of their freelyspoken adnfra-
ton.
Lillian never comes to sit with u.s."
they said to one another. "If we go to
her house she is always surrounded by
others. We are invited there to dinner
or to tea. She never appoints a time
to be alone with us. Do you remember
what pride she used to take in making
little gifts for us? Now she buys things
ready made and sends them up. 1t
sometimes seems as if she had forgot
ten us, doesn't it?''
The woman they spoke of knew many
mental vicissitudes, but she confded
them to none. She had her temptations
for she was beautiful, and men
guessed that she did not love her hus-
band-but she conquered them. She
became a student, and knew the desps
of intellectual JOY. She bore and lost
two children and sounded sorrow. And
at last her husband died and left her a
widow
''Well, there's one comfort" COM
mented the mother; "she's got enough
to keep her in perfect, comfort to the
last of her days"
While she was congratulating herself
in this fashion her daughter was mali
ing over to others the fortune which
had been left her. A part of it went to
an old aunt of her husbands; more
went to certain large families remote
ly connected by marriage with herself.
Some went for creche, some for a free
kindergarten. Then. clad in an lift
ting blue frock, old fashioned and
frowsy, she presented herself one day
at the door of a certain poor man.
"Dick," she said. 81 have been a widow
for two years, and have waited for you
to come for me, but you did not"
LILLIAN! Have mercy. 1 have resist
ed the temptation twenty times each
day. l am almost as poor as | ever
was"
1--WE come in the little blue dress I
made, Dick. It'll do nicely for we'd
ding dress, Tiff you think-if you
think a wedding dress is needed
He was incredulous.
st is fantastic dream" he said. ct
cannot be true that, after the mockery
of endless dreams which faded as [
grasped them, you are here, in the
flesh"
She threw off her hat and clasped her
hands upon the table before her.
Look at me, Dick" she commanded.
"See how my eyes say: 4 love you
They look with perfect frankness' and
naturalness for the first time in many.
many years. For the first time the
tones of my voice seem to ring true to
my ears. For the first time feel hon
est with myself. This is me-this
woman who says: 4 love you, Dick
Of course, if you like, you can send me
away. But I'm SO poor now, and"
She pretendedlto look melancholy.
at must be dream" he murmured
still. But there is no harm in embrace
ing a dream, so it be kindly one, and
he embraced this dream tenderly, with
many broken words, with tears which
would not fall, with all the starved
hearts unutterable Chicago
Tribune.
Exhausted the Pack.
A young married lady had Just ac-
quired a new coach and a new foot