Abbeville progress. (Abbeville, Vermilion Parish, La.) 1913-1944, 1913-04-19

Both Fortune and the merchant
turned.
You. Horace"
Yes, my child. And what are you
doing here alone, without a Crago-
man."
"Oh, l have been through here alone
many times. I'm not afraid Isn't it
beautiful? He wants twenty pounds
for 1t, and l cannot afford that"
She had not seen him in many
weeks, yet she accepted his sudden APP
pearance without question or surprise.
She was used to his turning up at I'M
| expected moments. OF course, she
! had known that he was in Cairo;
where her mother and uncle were this
/ secretiYe man was generally within
! calling. There had been time when
she had eagerly piled him with ques-
tons, 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. a
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
u hn
! iterated.
"Salaam!" said Ryanne. Good
/ day He drew the somewhat resist
| ing hand of Fortune under his arm
and made for the door. "Sh!" he wins
pered. Leave it to me-" They gained
| the street.
The merchant was dazed He had
misiudged what he now recognized as
an old hand. The two were turning
up another street when he ran out,
shouting to them and waving the
/ pendant. Ryanne laughed.
Ten pounds. am a poor man. eff.
! fendi, and | need the money. Ten
pounds. | am giving it away" The
merchants eyes filed 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 Fortunes
hand. And the pleasure in his heart
was such as he had not known in
many days. The merchant wisely hur
] -, to
But :" she began protest
incIy.
Tut, tut! ! have known you since
you wore short dresses and tam-o
shanters."
Il really cannot accept 1t as a gift
Let me borrow the ten pounds"
And why can't you accept a LITTLE
gift from me?'
She had no ready answer. She
gazed steadily at the dull pearls anC
the flaky emeralds. She could not ash
him where he had got those sover
eigns. She could not possibly be Sc
cruel. She could not dissemble IL
words like her mother. That gold she
knew to be a part of a dishonest bar
gain whose forester had been a thief
more. a sacrilege. Her honesty wa:
like purS gold. unalloyed, unmixeC
with sophistic subterfuges. That tn,
young man who had purchased the rus
might be mildly peccable had not We
occurred to her.
why not, Fortune?" Ryanne was
! very earnest. and there was a pinch a
his heart.
Don't you like me just little?"
why, | do like you. Horace But
do not like any man well enough Il
accept expensive gifts from him.
do not wish to hurt you. but 1t Is i'm
possible. The only concession II
make is 10 borrow the money"
We'll. then, let it go at that" HI
was too wise TO press her.
And can you afford to throw away
ten pounds?" with assumed lightness
My one permanent impression of yoJ
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 2
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. "Oh.
say. Fortune; you don't call it dishon
est to get the best Of pagan! Aren't
they always getting the best of u.s.