The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1904-12-16

worshipped. He drew from her the
story of the pain her mother suffered
around her heart, and delicately Of
fered professional service, where 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 kindle
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 eloquence
of his tongue. Bellies whose conquests
were of we'll known number had let
him read the love he wakened in their
eyes and flirts had owned themselves
beaten at their own game.
Yet this shy violet, this little re-
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 eloquence
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 pauper by the non-apprecia-
ton of man. Just the tiniest patri-
mony kept him from actual want, but
though he had hall room at Mrs.
I-unters, his boots were often shabby,
his clothes we'll worn, and his purse
lamentably slender.
And Mrs. Hunter seeing Doctor
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 his well-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 loved the only
child of her heart too we'll fer that;
but loving her she could not give her
to poverty and Bert Loring, and one
day when Bert pleaded his cause she
told him.
Doctor Worthington asked me this
RI ciU E1Nica 7 1ilyp
Bert. You are dear to me as son,
but we must think of the child above
all. You know how dreamy, sensitive,
and helpless Eloise is. You know that
hard work would be murder for her.
She lives in her music, her books"
"And her love! She loves me-" in
terrupted poor Bert, boy yet in many
tender phases of his nature.
"And you, loving her, would you see
her toiling, shaving, starving, as q
poor mans wife?"
you put it harshly."
81 put it truly. While l can keep
this house up you are welcome to a
home here, but any day l may die.
These heart spasms mean a certain
death some day, Bert. Then where
are you to take Eloise?"
81 will work for her"
work first, then, and WOO her after
ward My poor Bert, you are too like
her to marry her. Could | but give
you wealth, you could live in poets
paradise, you and Eloise never grow
ing old, two grown-up children. But
we are all poor. Do not torture her,
you who love her. Go away and let
Doctor Worthington win her."
"She will never love him."
mot if you are here"
81 will go then. You will let me tell
herr"
why? 1t will only make her life
harder, if she thinks you suffer. I will
never force her to marry. Buff
Doctor Worthington can win her, l
tell you frankly, it will make me very
happy"
So Bert-honest, loyal Bert-for his
yer ylove's sake, turned his face from
his love and went to another city,
where he was offered position as
assistant editor upon magazine, that
was to be a fortune in the future, but
in the present was rather a log on the
necks of the proprietors
And Eloise, wondering at Bert's de-
sertion, knew all the sunlight was gone
from her life when he said farewell.
There had been no secret in Berts
parting with his friend. Frankly he
had told him his hope, love and de-
spair, and pathetically implored him
to cherish Eloise lovingly, If he could
win her love.
Even while he spoke, Cyrus Worth