Condon globe. (Condon, Gilliam Co., Or.) 189?-1919, 1901-08-01

NeOrHe, but now When hne attempted u
do 10 be prevented her by saying:
"Ohi don't--don't--I can imagine al
you wish 10 say and hate 10 be thanked.
Rose and are particular friends. and II
afforded me great deal OF pleasure TO
purchase Il for her-but," he added,
glaneing at his watch, II must be excns.
ed now, as ! promised 20 call upon my
ward"
who's thatT' asked Jenny, and
George replied that Il was a Miss Hern-
don, who had accompanied him from
New Orleans, 10 visit her aunt, Mrs.
Russell.
''IIe says she's an heiress. and very
beautiful" reJolned Ida. seating herself
at the piano.
Instantly catching at the words "heir-
css" and beautiful" Henry started up.
asking ~ II would be- against alI the
rules Of propriety for him 70 call upon
her thus early
Il think II would,' was Georges brief
answer, while Mary's eyes flashed scorn.
fully upon the young man. who. rather
crestfallen. announced himself ready 10
listen 20 Ida. whom be secretly styles ian
old mald." because since his first remem-
brance she had treated him with perfect
indifference.
That night before retiring the three
girls sat down by the cheerful FIRE irf
Mary's room 20 talk over the events OF
the day. when Mary suddenly asked Ida
to tell her truly II II were not George who
had paid her bills at Mount Holyoke.
What a silly girl" said Ida. "He was
perfectly able and more than willing. so
why do you carer
II do not like being so much Indebted
10 anyone" was Mary's reply, and yet
In her secret heart there was a strange
feeling of pleasure IN the idea that
George had thus cared for her, for would
he have done so IT, She dared not fin-
ish that question even TO herself-dared
not ask II she hoped that George More
land loved her one-half as well as she
began to think she had always loved him.
Why should he, with his handsome per-
son and princely fortune, love one so un-
worthy, and so much beneath him2 And
then, for the first time. she thought OF
her changed position since last they met
Then she was poor. obscure school mis-
tress-now BATTERED, caressed and an
heiress. Years before, when little pau
per at Chicopee, she had felt unwilling
that George should know how destitute
she was. and now In the time OF her
she was equally desirous that
he should. for time at least. remain Ig-
OF her present condition.
Ida, said she, lifting her head from
the table, does George know that | am
Mrs. Campbell's nieceT'
NO." answered Ida II wanted TO tell
him, but Aunt Martha said I'd better
not"
Don't. then" returned Mary, and re-
suming her former position she fell into
a deep reyerie, from which she was at
last aroused by Jenny's asking IF she
to sit up all nightT'
The news that George Moreland had
aud bought Rose Iincoln's piano
besides several other articles, spread
rapidly. and the day following his ar
rival Mary and Ida were stopped In the
street by group Of their companions,
who were eager to know how George
bore the news that his betrothed was so
III, and IL il was not that which brought
him home so soon: and then the conver-
sation turned upon Miss Herndon, the !
New Orleans lady who had that morning |
appeared In the street: And don't you
ihink, said one OF the girls, "that Henry |
Lincoln was dancing attendance upon
ier2 IL | were YOU" turning to Mary, |
I'D caution my sister to be little wary
II him. But let me see, their marriage
$ TO take place soon?"
Mary replied that the marriage was
postponed indefinitely. whereupon the
;irls exchanged meaning glances and
,assed on. In less than twenty-four
lours half Of Elias acquaintance were
alking OF her discarding Henry on ac-
'ount OF his fathers failure, and saying
that they expected it, twas like her"
Ere long the report, in the shape of a
'ondolence, reached Henry, who, caring
'ut little what reason was assigned for
he broken engagement, so that he got
veil out OF it, assumed a much-iniured
ir, but said "he reckoned he should man
Ige to suryivei' then, pulling his sharp
'ointed collar up another story, and
rushing his pet mustache. wherein lay
most of his mind, he walked up street.
nd, ringing at Mrs. Russell's door, ask
d for Miss Herndon, who, vain as beau
iful, suffered his attentions, not because
he liked him In the least, but because
he was fond of flattery, and there was
exceedingly gratifying In the
act that at the North, where she fancied
he gentlemen to be icicles, she had so
DON made conquest. 1t mattered not
hat Mrs. Russell told her his vows were
lighted to another. She cared nothing
or that. Her life had been one long
cries OF conQuests until now, at 20, there
vas not in the whole world more fin.
she'd or heartless coquette than Evron
Ierndon. (To be continued.)
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