The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1908-03-11

wildcat scheme, lie would take a lew
thousand shares in with liability
if possible-thinking this about the
| surest way to secure q good, healthy
loss. Not a loss could he make, fors
as sure as ne took shares in the 1lsh'
iest-looking of all mining or other
schemes, the thing would flare up
into the biggest boom it had ever
had, and Preston's money would ba
trebled before he could get rid of his
stock.
It seemed to him awful.
Then he settled large sums or all
his relatives, and had serious
thoughts of getting rid of the whole
fortune in that way, when again mis-
Nemesis, in the shape Of his lawyer,
came down on him, telling him that'
by the terms Of old Morrison's will,
he was prohibited from disposins OF
more than a certain proportion OF his
capital during his lifetime. Then the
brilliant, quite unbusiness-llke loea
occurred to him to contest MS great
uncle's will. But as his relatives
| who had carefully read the will even
before he had, and found that in case
of a contest the whole fortune would
go to charity-begged him not TO 40
So, as they would thereby have to
disgorge what he had already con-
veyed to them-he felt compelled,
for their sal;es, to desist. II only he
had had the good fortune to think
of this plan at first! But, hang 1t
all, that was just his luck!
About this time, his case looking
really desperate, some malicious
spirit suggested to him to marry a
! poor girl-one who had never had
two cents to her name, and who
would have her head so turned when
she learned of the wealth that was at
her disposal. that she might be trust
ed to get rid of it in short order by
the abnormal extravaganza Whlch
she would naturally develop. Here
was a promising scheme, and he won
dered he had not thought of it be-
! fore. He went to work warily, how
ever for. of course, while he wanted
a poor girl, ne did not wish a com
! mon one, with no genius for eXtrava-
| gance, and the right one was hard to
find at first.
Happening to mention to his old
nurse his desire to marry a poor but
pretty girl, she entered into the plan
with much alacrity and promised II
find "the very one" Laughingly
telling her that the most prominent
characteristic of the fair 4 must be
an undeniable tendency to eXtraVa'
! gance, and an empty purse her only
dover he awaited events.
At a summons from the old lady.
he called a: her rooms, and there
was a slim little thing with her.
dressed in a shabby gown, who sat
! and knit away at a coarse stocking
and never raised her eyes or said a
word all the time he was there. He
went away a delighted mar for, in
| spite Of an unusual refinement of face
| and attitude, it was evident the girl
had not a cent in the world but what
| she could earn by knitting.
The next day he met her she wore
a plain black dress. He saw her often
after that and by degrees he over
! came her extreme shyness, and she
! conversed with him in a way that
| soon set his pulses tingling.
At the end of two or three months
he was dead in love with the girl.
He had not intended this, but was
not going to let such a small CON-
sideration break up the plan, which
was progressing so finely. 1t took
nearly another month to persuade
her to marry, but she finally con-
sented.
The wedding day arrived. Paul
was terribly nervous, having proceed.
| ed the bride by at least ten minutes.
| and was beginning to have an awful
| fear that she might have played him
false. He had discovered by this
time that she was the n girl in all
the world fer him, aDi as he contem-
| plated with anguish the prospect of
losing her a lovely vision appeared.
He could hardly believe his eyes. OF
all the costly looking brides he had
ever seen she was the costliest, and
yet the plainest in her apparel. Va
that magnificent, white-robed, queen
ly woman the little girl who had been
wont to sit in her poor black frock,
knitting industriously in nurses
little living-room?
The next day, on the train, when
he casually dropped a package of
thousand-dollar notes into her lap,
with the remark that it was pin
money, she remarked in the quietest
little drawl imaginable:
"Oh, Paul! I must tell you a little
| secret! When poor Aunt Matilda
died in California a. week ago she
| left me two millions!"-From Good
Literature.
A Pauper Ivy Law.