The Courier. (Genoa, Nev.) 1899-1904, 1902-01-17
CHAPTER XX.-(Continued)

Oil<Al l. 1%lN <AA,-AOOHlluucu,D
just then Ella came singing into the
room, but started when she saw how ex-
cited Mrs. Campbell appeared, and how
swollen her eyelids were.
"Why, what's the matter?" said she.
Il never saw you cry before, excepting
that time when | told you | was going
to marry Henry and Ella laughed
little, spteful laugh
''Hush-sh,' said Mary, softly; and
Mrs. Campbell, drawing Ella to her side,
told her of the strange discovery she had
made; then beckoning Mary to approach,
she laid a hand upon each of the young
girls heads, and blessing them, called
them "her own dear children"
1t would be hard telling what Elias
emotions were. One moment she was
glad, and the next she was sorry, for she
was so supremely selfish that the fact of
Mary's being now in every respect her
equal gave her more pain than pleasure.
OF course, Mrs. Campbell would love her
best-everybody did who knew her-ey-
erybody but Henry And when Mrs.
Campbell asked why she did not speak
she replied, why, what shall | say?
shall 20 into ecstasies about it? To be
sure I'm glad-yery glad that you are
my aunt. VIII Mary live here nowY
Eyes, always" answered Mrs Camp
! bell; and NO. never" thought Mary.
Mrs. Campbell that evening tried to
devise some means by which to atone for
neglecting Mary so long. Suddenly new
idea occurred to her, upon which she de-
termined Immediately to act, and the
next morning Mr.. Worthington was sent
for to draw up new will, in which Mary
Howard was to share equally with her
sister.
"Half of all own is theirs by right"
said she, "and what | want is that on
their twenty first birthday they shall
come into possession of the portion which
ought to have been their mothers, while
at my death the remainder shall be equal
ly divided between them"
The will was accordingly drawn up,
signed and sealed Mr.. Worthington
keeping a rough draft of it, which was
thrown among some loose papers in his
office. A few days afterward Henry,
coming accidentally upon it, read it with
out hesitation.
"That. settles it at once said he, "and
| can't say I'm sorry, for | was getting
horribly sick OF her. Now I'd willingly
marry Mary without a penny, but Ella,
with only one-quarter as much as l eX
pected, and that not until she's twenty
one, is n different matter entirely. But
what am | to do? | wish Moreland was
here, for, though he don't like me, he
wouldn't mind lending me a few thou
sand. Well, there's no help for it, and
the sooner the old man breaks now the
better. It'll help me out of a deuced
mean scrape, for, of course, | shall be
magnanimous and release Ella at once
from her engagement with ruined man"
The news that Mary was Mrs. Camp
bells niece spread rapidly, and among
those who came to congratulate her none
was more sincere than William Bender.
| Mary was very dear to him, and what
ever conduced to her happiness added
also to his. Together with her he had
/ heard the rumor of Mr.. Lincolns down
| fall, and while he felt sorry for the fam
! lily he could not help hoping that it
would bring Jenny nearer to him. OF
this he told Mary, who hardly dared
trust herself to reply lest she should di
vulge a darling secret, which she had
cherished ever since Mrs. Campbell had
told her that in a little more than year
che was to be the rightful owner of a
sum of money much larger than she ever
dreamed it possible for her to possess
! Wholly unselfsh, her thoughts instantly
turned toward her adopted brother. A
part of that sum should be his, and with
that for stepping stone to future wealth
/ Mrs. Lincoln, when poor and destitute,
could not longer refuse him her daugh-
ter Mrs. Campbell, to whom alone she
confided her wishes, gave her consent,
| though she could not understand the self
denying love which prompted this act Of
generosity to a stranger.
And now Mary was very happy in
thinking how much good she could do.
/ Mrs. Mason, her benefaetress, should
never want again. Sally Furbush, the
kind hearted old crazy woman, who had
stood by her so long and so faithfully,
should share her home wherever that
home might be; while, better than the
rest, William Bender, the truest, best
friend she ever had, should be repaid
for his kindness to her when a little, un-
known pauper And still the world,
knowing nothing of the hidden causes
4 which made Mary's laugh so merry and
her manner so gay, said that 'the pros
pect of being an hcress had turned her
head, just as it always did those who
were suddenly elevated to wealth"