The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1907-04-20
HER HEARTs WISE.


attention to his typewriter. His
head throbbed. Important letters
had kept him debating all the after
noon.
The swinging door of his office
opened to admit the letter carrier,
who threw two letters on his desk,
nodded and departed. Webster hasti-
| " opened the smaller of the letters.
| The handwriting was feminine. When
he had eagerly read the dainty mis-
Esive he pushed the remainder of the
letters and papers toward the type
writer, saying Miss Johnson,
| just finish that last one and then you
may go home" Glancing at his
watch, he added: II shall not re-
turn tonight In another moment
the swinging door banged after him.
The Office boy impatientlY waited
for the typewriter, Miss Johnson, to
arrange her wavy pompadour to the
best advantage and to give defiant
pull to the bow of ribbon surmount-
ing the wonderful structure, as she
smiled. at her charms reflected fat
teringy in the Office glass.
The boy said: "Guess I'll git
home some time before morning at
this rate. Can't you get move on ?"
And he skillfully threw handful
of sawdust as near to her as he dared.
Keith Webster loved a girl whom
he knew was the embodiment of all
he had been taught to love and rev.
erence in women.
Sometimes it seemed to him that
her hearts best devotion was given
to the worship of art.
| Her studio was but a few blocks
from his Office. She was busily gath
ering up her brushes and removing
her apron when he entered the room.
! A pleased lcok lighted her face as
she caught sight of him, and she cried
quickly
Keith, I'm so impatient to tell
you of my legacy 1 can't wait till
morning that is why / summoned
you."
Then, anxiously looking into his
face again, she added
II could have waited, suppose, I
hope it was not an interruption,
Keith? I meant to have written that
Also"
Interruption p he exclaimed, i'm
patiently. "Dora, I want you to un-
derstand that my time is always at
your disposal. Now, tell me all
about your eccentric aunt. So she has
left you some money and is not dead.
Come sit here and tell me all about
it. ("
He led her. to the table, where a
curious bronze lamp shed soft light
upon an official looking envelope. the
seal of which he recognized to be
that of Janette Pentland, Dora's &C.
centric old aunt, who was living in
Paris at that time.
Listen, Keitf1s wf1ile Z read my
aunt's queer letter.
SEPTEMBER I3, 1908.
"Dea, Niece Dora Here, right
under the shadow of statues and mon
uments in the house of sculptor,
with art in the very atmosphere, and
with Clipped antiques in all corners
of the house, lives your old aunt ia
nette.
"And I have lonely time OF it.
But for the climate, would never
stay here. The French verbs are
bad enough, but the battle I've had
with cabmen have weakened my con-
stitution.
"It has occurred to me that l can
inaugurate a new fashion in the mat
ter of bequeathing my money, SC
that can see for myself the actual
benefit ensuing therefrom. Accord
ingly I depart from hitherto estab-
lished custom. by making my be-
quests before my death.
"I propose to place at your dispos-
al the sum of So 900 to be used abso-
lutely for one of two purposes. Mark
| we'll the conditions of my bequest.
They must be observed, or the money
will not be obtainable.
| "First. The money may go to de-
| fray your tuition in Paris, under the
best teachers. In which case, the
bequest will be doubled when you
have given reasonable proof that you
have talent.
| "Second. In the event of com
templated marriage, within yeal
from this date, the sum Of $4,000 is
to be appropriately spent in preparing
for said marriage. Should you refuse
both my condit ions, 1 shall trouble
| YOU no further. Please advise me by
cable, care of H. Couteaux, No. Il
Rue Pence. de Leon.
JANETTE PENTLAND.
| The odd document slipped FROM
Dora Evans limp fingers. The gir
| felt the ardor burning in the eyes O
the man who had loved her eve
4 since they had been playmates.
At the thought of life without hi
love her eyes filled, and there seem
ed to sound in his ears an appealing
note of tenderness as she said, my
dreams have been of art, you know
Keith; all my life I have longed t'
be an artist
Eyes," said the man, taking he
hand and clasping it close. eyes
and my dreams have been of home
with you for its queen, my wife, eve
since we were childish comrades
You surely know that, Dora. Which
shall it be, dear? Is it art you low
best or is it me? Which, Dora 7"
The girl lifted shy, happy face
radiant with love, and whispered:
"It is you, Keith.
THE MAN who does not advertls
simply because his grandfather di'
not, ought to wear knee breeches ant
a queue.
The man who does not advertis