Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1913-03-07
CHAPTER xxx.
A Last Account.

aria in Gounod's opera or that name.
At an open piano in corner sat the
singer, dressed in lustreless gray, with
bands Of the finest linen at throat ana
wrist, and a great braid OF golden hair
dropping upon the nape Of her snow
white neck. .. :,
The annual spring vacation had
come and swept the scholars to their
various homes for two happy weeks,
but this pupil had no home, and, con-
seouently, never left the establish
ment. Moreover, she was too deeply
absorbed in study to care much Tor
vacations.
The door opened, and man noise
lessly entered the room and paused
unobserved. behind the singer: Tne sl.
yer voice, which had been for more
than two years under careful cultiva-
tion, broke into a series Of marvellous
trills, and then dropped into silence.
Its owner began to search for new
piece of music in a rack by her side.
Mercy"
She sprang up from the piano with
a cry of delight.
"Guardyi" =
He took her face in his two hands,
and kissed the white forehead tenderiy.
At the school 1t was generally acknowl-
edged that the tie betwixt Miss Dill
ana ner Sudruidn was VI OH
strong nature.
"My dear child, that voice will make
your fortune some day." said Cullen
Sardis; your teachers tell me that
your talent is equal only to your dill
gence. They prophesy a bright future
She stood before him with grand.
shining eyes, her golden head held
high with the old superior air which
had struck all beholders so forcibly IN
the days Of her poverty and want
not the pale, wasted Mercy that we
last saw in Mrs. Phillipss chamber;
but girl radiant with health ana
strength, and the knowledge of her
own developed powers; clothed in soft
raiment-for Cullen Sardis would have
II so-her royal beauty perfected by
more than two years Of tender care,
good food, rest from toll, and happy
associations. She was like the long
despoiled princess OF some fairy tale
who had, at last, stumbled upon her
birthright. ,-
81 would rather hear you praise me,
than any one else in the world. sne
answered, with a bright glance. DO
/ not owe everything to you? Are you
not the kindest, the most generous OF
"Hush!" He laid his hand gently
upon her lips, then drew her to the
nearest chair. "Sit down, Mercy, l
have come to talk with you for little
while Are we likely to be interrupt
ed?"
mo" she answered; II am the only
pupil left In the house-it Is vacation.
The others are all away" Then a sud
den alarm thrilled through her voice.
"Guardy! how haggard you look-hoW
pale! You are III"
The banker had fallen into a seat,
without, however, releasing his wards
slender hand. He was, as usual, fault
lessly dressed; but his cool face looked
gray and thin, his eyes were sunken In
their sockets and bloodshot, either
with sleeplessnes or great exhaustion,
Mercy had not seen him before for
three months, and she was greatly
shocked by the change in his appear
ance.
mo, I am not Ill. my dear child" he
answered. impatiently. I am quite
WELL"
She sank into a low chair by his
side. Her eyes, fixed earnestly upon
his face, were full Of anxiety and pain.
He might deny 1t or not, but she knew
that something was wrong with this
her benefactor, her kind, generous
friend. The wan light Of rainy spring
afternoon, struggled through neigh
boring window and fell upon the two
the girl, young and beautiful; the
man with his uneasy eyes and gray
face, scored with the unmistakapie
marks of inward torment. A smile
curled his lip as he noticed now close
ly she watched him.
MY dear, I have lost some sleep
lately, and I have had some perplex-
ing business matters to think about
that is all. But It Is Of you Of whom
wish to speak, not myself. How lone
have you been at this school, Mercy
Two years and six months" she
answered.
And you have learned great deal
have you not?"
Her lovely hands futtered, one ovei
the other. on the lap Of her gray dress
Yes. Guardy; and 1t Is time,
think. to turn the same to practica
account. You have spent your money
freely upon me-laid me under grea,
obligations. With your consent
would now like to leave school, anc
become a teacher"
He gnawed his gray mustache.
"Obligations! Merciful God! Any.
thing but that word, Hush! Mercy
don't talk of teaching; today-tomor
row-some other time We will discus!
the matter. Now l have story to tel
you-one which you OUGHT to know
which you must know. MY cowaro
ly tongue has dreaded inexpressibly Il
make this revelation, but 1t can M
longer be delayed. Place your hands
in mine-that is right. Do you low
me, dear child?"
Yes" she answered; Il should b'
an migrate, indeed, II I did not. Have
you not been like father to me-?
Like a father! Bless you for those
words!" and so, holding her slim nm
gers and looking into her wondering
uplifted face, he began:
Let me tell you how and where
first met your mother. 1t was upon {
ferryboat in the harbor, one breath
less moonless, ill-omened summe
night. I had been dining with an oil
friend upon the East Boston side, anC
vas returning alone to the city proper
well satisfied with the sumptuous sup
ner. myself, and all the world. AS
stood on deck, smoking cigar am
watching the fantastic lights In tn
distance, a woman glided by me
noiseless as a spirit, and flung nersel
straight into the water. the passen
gers screamed, the whistle soundeo
the boat slackened speed; but swltte
than any Of these things, l had !eape
white face that arose in the black wa
ter and drifted past me like taliei
star dragged her from her SELF
sought grave, and reached the boat
scarcely knew how. l had saved hu
man life; but it would have been
thousand times better for both rescue
and rescuer had she been left to TN
doom which she coveted. Bear In mine
Mercy, that I was young, hot-bloodee
impetuous the son Of an old, rlcr
naughty family-an aristocrat by Dirt
and breeding alike. / looked once a
the face of the woman l had saVee
and was lost!
"She was young-a mere girl, an
she was beautiful, with a wild, eV'
beauty, suggC stive Of some half-tame
leopardess, or some splendid Tartare
an goddess. AS l speak, she rises agai
before me, the perfect whiteness of he
face shrouded in drifting black hail
her wild, glorious eyes full of angus
and despair, her slight figure dresse
in plain, coarse mourning eloquent @
sorrowful poverty.
why did you save me?' she sale
wringing her hands; why did you no
leave me to drown? l do not wan