The Ely miner., 1903-04-17
sha thounbt she would be more

| lonely and sad than ever when she
gave the money up. But she was sur
| rrised to find that she wasn't sof lone
| ly. and unhappy as she had thought
/ she would be. When you give up
something of your own accord, you
! feel a sense of power, as Helen did.
while the sky seemed to look bluer,
the birds sing sweeter, and people S
| faces TO look more kind. Still there
were moments of despair and discour-
agement, when everything seemed to
be going wrong-when the household
debts would never get quite paid up,
and her health never be quite what
she had hoped. How nice it would
! be to be taken care of, as Wins wife
was! Or how nice it would be to have
that S. 900 and be relieved of petty
responsibilities! Those weak moods
quickly passed, however.
She was cashier and clerk: at Mr..
Burt's combination store" which
was really city department store on
a small scale.
One day, about two days after the
last of her ''surrenders," as Helen
laughingly called them, slender,
| white-faced old man entered the
| store. Helen was at her cashiers desk
making out bills. 1t was quite late,
on cold, drizzly, fall afternoon, and
and no one else happened to be in at
the time. Helen glanced UP occasion
ally, on the alert to see if new Gus
| toner came in, or if she herself were
needed, and two or three times she
discovered the stranger watching her
| quite intently.
When he had gone, Mr.. Burt saun-
| tered up to her, and with merry
| twinkle in his eyes, said, Miss Stock
well, that old gentleman came to es-
pecially inquire about you. He said
| his name was Lawrence, from Hope
| dale. He didn't want to speak to you
himself, he said, but just wanted to
know all about you. So l told him
your general history. shouldn't
wonder at all if he were a detective
in disguise, weaving a deadly chain
of evidence around you"
Tlse winter that followed was a par
ticularly hard one for poor Helen.
Her mothers health was very poor,
and medicine and delicacies had to
be bought. When spring came she
grew no better, and the doctor said
that if she could go to the seaside for
Il few weeks, he was sure she would
be greatly benefited. But that was
not to be thought of. Helen was
ho1 1>l> lnth in, 1a1-
to pay the doctors bill and the rent
of their four rooms.
In the latter part of May, as Helen
was about to start home one evening
about six O'Clock, tall, pleasant
faced young man appeared hurriedly
in the doorway and asked for Miss
StocEwell.
"Oh," he said, after Mr.. Burt had
made her known, respectfully salut-
ing her, Il see you are about to start
for home. l would like to walk along
with you if / may, as 1 have a COM
mission for you, intrusted to me by
my grandfather"
Certainly" said Helen.
Only a few commonplaces were
passed till they got off the main
street, then the young man said:
Miss Stockwell, my grandfather
has recently died and has left me his
sole executor and heir of his modest
property, except two bequests. One,
of $4,000, to the drink cure hospital
and sanitarium at Lansingburg, and
the other of $1,000 left to yourself,
check for which you will find in this
envelope" handing her the same from
his wallet.
Helen drew herself slightly away
from the proffered gift and said ear
nestly: II am sure there must be
some mistake, sir. You have prob
ably come to the wrong person. 1 am
sure L did not know your GRANDPA
ther."
He smiled. "There is no mistake,
Miss Stockwell. My name is Gilbert
Lawrence. My grandfather saw you
last fall. He went to the store to
see you, and Mr.. Burt told him all
about you"
''Oh," said Helen, she was that old
gentleman who asked about me!
But L don't understand. There is no
reason why he should have left me
anything"
''You remember that legacy OF
So, 900 which you refused some three
years ago?" he asked, still smiling.
''Of course 1 remember it," said
Helen, with sad humor. 81 wish 1
could forget it."
swell, my grandfather was the heir
who profited by your surrender of
that legacy. But that is the $4,000 1
mentioned as having been bequeathed
to the drink cure hospital. Your
present legacy is a part of my grand
fathers savings on the dear home
farm where my father and L were
born. So you needn't fear to accept
it," he urged. again holding out the
envelope to her, which she took with
trembling fingers.
"My grandfather, Miss Stockwell," !"
continued the young man, ''was the
nearest relative when Mr.. Rollins
died, but he did not leave grandfather
anything. He left you $4,000 and the
rest to another person not a relative.