Greene County herald. (Leakesville, Miss.) 1898-current, 1904-12-02
FlOise's Inheritance.

| upOu.
Yet Cyrus Worthington, studying the
face, unseen himself, thought only
"How weak, timid, easily infiu-
encedl"
Not one thought of the wrong he
was to do her dawning womanhood
| troubled him. Whatever scruples of
conscience had troubled his nights
vigils were all crushed under the iron
heel of his will, and there was no
thought now of turning back from
this purpose. While his eyes still
rested upon her face, Eloise opened
the piano, and from the little taper
fingers flowed the music that comes
by divine gift, the outpouring of in
| spiration. 1t moved even Cyrus Worth
ington, no mean Judge of the wondrous
execution of the girls fingers, or the
| power Of her genius. From a heart
full of sadness came wailing melodies,
melting into dying cadences, full Of
| fearful meaning; then slowly there
gathered on the sweet lips an intense
smile of wondrous radiance, and the
minor passages were changed to ten
der, ripping airs, happy as an infants
smiles, till some glorious chords of
grand harmony completed this true
maiden's dream.
1t was evidently holiday work, for
with a sigh Eloise took book Of
alarming-looking exercises from the
music rack, and began to practice IN
real earnest.
Cyrus Wofthington- drew further
back in the fAlds of the curtain, and
resumed his novel. An hour flew by,
and then Mrs. HUNTER came in.
Five o'clock Eloise, and pitch dark.
Are you practising properly in the
dark?"i
Il know these lessons by heart,
mamma" the CIR, answere din q low,
sweet voice, with shade of WEAKNESS
in the tone.
Don't waste slime, darling" the
mother said anxioasly; you know
cannot pay for mary lessons, and next
year you must try 20 find scholars"
Il wish you would let me help you
more" was the reple;; sit seems wick
ed for me to be studying and practis-
ing while you have 80 much care and
work.
'You will help ma soon. But /
want you to be independent, Eloise.
I may die, and you cEslld not run this
great house, but you C1uld teach Go
upstairs now; the gactlemen will be
coming in soon to dsnner."
did the boarder core last night?"
Doctor Werthilgtonf Yes, dear!
Mr.. Loring tells me lie n great ply
stefan, author of some 1redical books,
and wonderfully sktllful He is well
off, tool"
''Oh, mamma, if lie could help chat
pain!"
mo, dear, no, we will not trouble
him with our aches and pains. There,
dear, run up stairs; l will send Maggie
for you when eat my diner"
Then the parlor was empty, for Cy-
rus sauntered off to his cwn room
when Mrs. Hunter and her daughter
were gone.
He was not many days an tamaae of
Mrs. Hunters house before be discov-
cred that it was not that ladJ's policy
to parade her daughter to hee board
ers. The girl lived like nur. in her
own room nearly all day, practising
at an hour when the gentlemen were
away, and the ladies lying dtwn, or
out
Yet with his resolve in full force,
Cyrus Worthington contrived 60 see
Eloise very frequently. He would bend
his great dark eyes upon her face,
and hold her fascinated for hofrs by
the eloquence with which he spoke of
music, of poetry, of all the gir-soul
worshipped. He drew from hei. the
story of the pain her mother suffered
around her heart, and delicatesF Of
fered professional service, wher1 his
skill availed to bring relief, thus max
ing one, step by winning the gratitude
of mother and child.
But while his own heart knew no
more now than before the sweetness
of love, he read in Eloise's eyes none
of the emotion he hoped to S1ndle
there Heart-whole himself, he had
not been without conquests in his sell
fish life. Women had owned the mag
netic power in his great, dark eyes,
his rich voice, the winning eloqlence
of his tongue Bellies whose contdestS
were of we'll known number had let
him read the love he Weakened in their
eyes and f1irts had owned Themselves
beaten at their own game.
OF Inv vic fhfC 1iffen
cluse, liking him well, gave him no
part in her heart.
One word from Bert Loring, one
glance of his blue eyes, would call up
flying bushes to the fair cheeks that
all Cyrus Worthington's eloEuence
failed to bring there.
But Bert, though older than his
friend, had been an unsuccessful man.
A poet by the gift of God, he was al
most a pauper by the non-apfrecia-
ton Of man. Just the tiniest patri-
mony kept him from actual want, but
though ne had a hall room at Mrs.
hunters, his boots were often shabby,
his clothes we'll worn, and his purse
lamentably slender.
AuQ MIS-. f1uut0I c&Slu6 OOCIOE
Worthington in her best room, prompt
in payment, faultless in costume, with
certainty of thirty Thousand dollars,
and possibility of greater wealth, in
the practice of his profession, encour-
aged his attentions to ElOise, frown-
ing upon poor, loving Bert, who, in
spite of his jests about lis weA-riddled
heart, gave the young girl true, loyal
love.
1t was the old, old story, and Eloise,
torn by her filial affection and her girl
love, was growing pale and wan as
the winter wore away. There was no
coercion: Mrs. Hunter laved the only
child of her heart too we'll for that;
but loving her she could not give her
to poverty and Bert LoriDg, and one
day when Bert pleaded his cause she
told him.
efDoptOr Wort lin pt0n qnkod me this