The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1912-12-11

Both Fortune and the merchant
turned.
"You, Horace?"
Eyes, my child. And what are you
doing here alone, without a drago.
man."
ooh, I have been through here alone
many times. I'm not afraid. Isn't 1t
beautiful? He wants twenty pounds
for it, and 1 cannot afford that"
She had not seen him in many
weeks, yet she accepted his sudden ap-
pearance without question or surprise.
She was used to his turning up at un-
expected moments. OF course, she
| had known that he was in Cairo;
where her mother and uncle were this
secretive nan was generally within
calling. There had been a time when
she had eagerly piled him with ques-
lions, but he had always erected bar
riers of evasion, and finally she ceased
her opportunities, for she concluded
that her questions were such. No mat
ter to whom she turned, there was no
one to answer her questions, questions
born of doubt and fear.
Ten pounds" repeated Ryanne, q
hand in his pocket.
The merchant laughed. Here were
a young man and his sweetheart. His
experience had taught him, and not
unwisely, that love Is an easy victim,
too proud to haggle, too generous to
bargain sharply. Twenty" he re-
iterated.
"Salaam!" said Ryanne. Good
day." He drew the somewhat resist
ing hand Of Fortune under his arm
and made for the door. SSH" he whis-
pered. Leave 1t to me-" They gained
the street.
The merchant was dazed. He had
mis1udged what he now recognized as
an old hand. The two were turning
I'D another street when he ran out,
shouting to them and waving the
pendant. Ryanne laughed.
"Ten pounds. / am a poor man, ef-
fendi, and l need the money. Ten
pounds. l am giving 1t away" The
merchants eyes filled with tears. a
trick left to him from out Of the ruins
Of his youth, that ready service to
forestall the merited rod.
Ryanne counted out ten sovereigns
and put the pendant in F&rtune's
hand. And the pleasure in his heart
was such as he had not known in
many days. The merchant wisely hur
ried back to his shop.
"But :" she began protest
ingiy.
"Tut, tut! I have known you since
you wore short dresses and tam-o-
shanters."
81 really cannot accept 1t as a gift.
Let me borrow the ten pounds"
And why cant you accept a little
gift from me?"
She had no ready answer She
gazed steadily at the dull pearls and
the faky emeralds. She could not ask
him where he had got those sover-
eigns. She could not possibly be so
cruel. She could not dissemble in
words like her mother. That gold she
knew to be q part Of a dishonest bar
gain whose forestep had been a theft
more, q sacrilege. Her honesty was
like pure gold, unalloyed, unmixed
with sophistic subterfugcs. That the
young man who had purchased the rug
might be mildly peccable had not yet
occurred to her.
why not, Fortune" Ryanne was
very earnest, and there was a pinch at
his heart.
Because
Don't you like me just a little?"
why, l do like you, Horace. But I
do not like any man well enough to
accept expensive gifts from him. l
do not wish to hurt you, but 1t is i'm
possible. The only concession I'll
make is to borrow the money"
well, then, let 1t go at that" He
was too wise to press her.
And can you afford to throw away
ten pounds" with assumed lightness.
"My one permanent impression Of you
Is the young man who was always
forced to borrow car-fare whenever he
returned from Monte Carlo"
"a fool and his money. But I'm a
rich man now" he volunteered. And
briefly he sketched the exploit Of the
Yhiordes rug.
1T was very brave Of you. But has
it ever occurred to you that it wasn't
honest?"
"Honest?" frankly astonished that
she should question the ethics. ooh,
say, Fortune; you don't call 1t dishon-
est to get the best of a pagan! Aren't
hey always getting the best of us?"