Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1912-12-10


cut him dead; in her eyes poverty and
misfortune are objectionable sins. An,
It is a selfish world, Bee. Mamma, too,
is writing to you today. She says you
are to be placed in care of the Vanns
until our arrival in New York. Angels
and ministers of grace defend you!
However, one must not speak i'll of
ones relatives suppose, and Madame
Vann is a kinswoman Of ours. AS soon
as we return, you will, Of course, make
your debut And now 1t Is time to
dress for dinner. Mamma engaged a
new maid in Paris; very skillful and
very cross-we are her slaves. With
hundred kisses, darling Bee, am your
loving cousin,
Ethel Sardis.
p. S-Mamma Is determined that l
shall give the "cut direct" to Larry
Harding, but l cannot, Bee. Heaven
knows I have grown heartless enough
in the past year, but l am not yet cap
able of refusing common civility to an
old friend, simply because loss and
trouble have overtaken him. 1t is too
much. T..
Beatrix Sardis read this long COM
munication slowly, coveteously, as II
she found great delight in lingering
over the delicate lines. At last she
folded 1t, and with tender whisper OF
Darling Ethel" she pressed 1t to her
lips, and bravely attacked the second
letter. 1t was far briefer than the first,
and far less loving. Thus 1t ran:
MY Dear Niece:--The time has come
for you to leave school, and have ad-
vised your uncle to place you in care
of the Vanns until my return. without
doubt he will do co. l trust your So
journ at Madame Manners's estimable
establishment has not been all in vain,
Bee. You are very different from Ethel,
and no amount of culture or training
could, I suppose, make you like her'
but, at least, you can initiate her as
far as possible. I particularly desired
madame to repress your natural i'm
pulsiveness, your brusquerie-to pol
ish your manners, and instruct you In
that perfect conformity to the usages
Of society which Is the first requisite
of good breeding. You have very
quick tongue, Bee, and an unpleasant
habit of airing your opinions at all
times, which, l trust, madame has be-
fore this time successfully checked. l
have written to your uncle in regard
to taking you from the school. He Is
now in New York, but you may eX-
pect to see him as the term closes.
Ethel is the cynosure of all eyes wher-
ever we go. In beauty, of course, you
can never compete with her; but 1t
would be we'll for you if you could ac-
auire something Of her high-bred re-
pose. her grace, her ease, her elegance.
Be careful of your complexion, for 1t Is
your one really good point. Charlotte
Vann will take charge of your ward
robe, and provide you with all that you
need. The Vanns are eccentric, but
remember they are very well-born and
very wealthy. l shall write you again
shortly, with instructions how to con-
duct yourself during your stay at their
Newport villa. Meanwhile, l remain
your loving aunt,
Amelia Sardis.
Bee looked red and mortified as she
thrust this letter back into its envel-
ope.
My loving aunt, indeed" she NUT
tered. She loves no one but herself.
Like Minerva she was born without a
heart. And she fears l may shock these
eccentric Vanns with my brusque
tongue and my gaucheries. No doubt
1 shall, for l will never, never try to
become a cheap imitation Of Ethel. /
hate limitations of all kinds"
BY this time the room was quite
dark. The wind whistled louder yet
through the empty playground. the
rain fell faster on the pane. Madame's
establishment seemed like tomb now,
for the girls were all gone-it was the
first week of the summer vacation-all
but Bee, and her trunks stood packed
and ready in the hall outside. Sud-
denly the door opened, and one of the
under teachers stepped into the room.
Waiting still for your uncle, Miss
Sardis?" she said, at sight of the curl
ed-up figure on the window ledge.
Yes" answered Bee, crowding her
letters back into her silken pocket, Il
do hope he will come tonight, Miss
Drexel. The place is as lonely as death
without the girls. And then, / have
been here two whole years, you know.
OF course long to be off,
"Of course"
The tagged and overworked teacher
smothered a faint envious sigh as she
looked at this young pupil, born to a
| lot of luxury, ease and enjoyment the
sweet and goodly things of which she
| herself was denied.
II am like little bird" laughed Bee:
Il long to try my wings, Miss Drexel."
Even as she spoke a loud ring echoed
through the house. and then a servant
raped at the door of the music room
calling out
"A gentleman in the parlor to see
Miss Sardis."
The next moment Bee leaped out of
the window, flew wildly along the hall,
flung back the pallor door, and rush.
ed with outstretched arms toward
man who was standing there, hat in
hand, awaiting her appearance. With
disappointed cry, however, she drew
back 1t was not her uncle. but only
Jacob Phillips, the little, lean. withered
head clerk of his Boston banking
| house.
MY dear Miss Sardis," he began,
| your guardian is i'll. He could not
come for you himself, and so I am sent
to conduct you to his hotel. The car
riage is at the gate"-
mi" echoed Bee. "Guardy! Is it
anything serious, Phillips?"
mo, no-bless you. no." answered
the little man, nervously; "he met with