The Brandon news. (Brandon, Miss.) 1892-1961, 1910-07-07

ats no use talking" said Mrs.
Glenfeld, theoretically. Poor? Yes,
I dare say he's poor; but so am !
poor. I need the money for my rent,
and this is six weeks he's behind. Go
to his room, Ernestine, and take the
bill; it's high time the money was
paid"
Mrs. Glenfield was a sharp-nosed,
long-featured matron, whose face,
originally pleasant enough, had
grown sharp and acid with years of
weary struggling to make both ends
meet. A widow who keeps New
York boarding house has plenty of
opportunity to look on the shady
side of things, and Mrs. Glenfield,
somehow, found herself growing mis-
anthropical as she grew older
Ernestine, her eldest daughter,
took the proffered slip of paper,
somewhat reluctantly, and went slow
ly upstairs with it.
She was slight, small creature,
with bright brown eyes, hair of soft
chestnut hue, and arch, pretty fea-
lures. If Ernestine Glenfield had
been the petted daughter of a rich
man, her natural advantages set off
by swan's-down, silk and jewels, the
world would have pronounced her a
beauty. AS it was, with fate and for
tune against her, she even was re-
markably pretty.
She knocked softly at Mr.. Harney's
door, and detected voice answered:
"Come in"
Ernestine pushed open the door
and entered.
Wallace Harvey sat at the Dinghy
covered table, his head resting on his
hands. The handful of sullen-Iook-
Ing red coal glowed like vindictive
eye from the socket of the crate. A
pile of papers, loosely tied together,
lay on the table, close to his hand,
with an open note, containing the
respectfully declined" of some great
publisher, who had never taken the
trouble to read Wallace Harney's
carefully written manuscript.
Mr.. Harvey was young man, prob
ably thirty years of age, but he felt
much older. He had been fighting
destiny all his life, and up to the
present moment he had had the worst
of the encounter. No wonder that he
felt almost inclined to despair.
He started up, however, at the
light sound Of ErneStine's footsteps
on the worn carpet.
Miss Glenfield!"
"You used to call me Ernestine, !"
she said. half laughing. What makes
you so ceremonious now?"
Il don't know" he said, vaguely,
pushing the damp hair from his hot
forehead. "Did you want anything
Of me?"
Ernestine colored and hesitated-
then she laid the bill on the table
close to the inexorable EDITORS note.
Wallace Harvey saw it, and his cheek
grew as scarlet as her own.
Mamma wishes-that is, she
hopes" hesitated poor Ernestine,
who was a very bad hand at deceiv-
ing.
II see," said Mr.. Harvey, your
money or your life'-that is the fash
ionable formula nowadays. But if
you happen to lave no money, what
them"
I'll am very sorry" said Err
nestine, meekly.
II do not know why you should
be-" said Mr.. Harvey. at is six
weeks since have paid your mother
anything, but it is not because l have
not been working hard"
"Mamma's rent came due last
week." said Ernestine, feeling as if
every drop of blood in her body were
turned to liquid fire, "and-oh, Mr.
Harvey. I am so sorry!"
The last words broke from her
lips as she saw the panied look of
modification in the young author s
face. Involuntarily she put her hand
in her pocket, and drew out rustling
twenty-dollar bill.
Uncle Jason gave it to me for a
new Dress" she said, but my old one
is good yet-black silk always looks
well, you know, no matter how long
you have worn it. Please, please, Mr..
Harvey, take it."
He pushed away her soft little hand
almost irritably.
AErnestine!" he cried. passionate
~, Il am not yet fallen SO low az to
take your little canifal.