Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1913-01-24
THE AMERICAN COUNTESS
Bv ETA w. PIERCE.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
dragged her into the little sitting-room.
There he sank into q chair, beating his
breast in a high tragedy fashion, and
giving unmistakable signs Of great
physical or mental anguish. Miss At
| fry stood over him, remembering with
profound CONSERVATION, that she had
neither mustard nor Jamaica ginger in
the house.
Madame" said Discordo. hoarsely
and suddenly, you see Eat suffer-do
you ask why? All, Heaven! you are
too good, too kind to blame me for
what could not help. You know how
ing blonde, Mees Dill. haf looked too
much on her-she haf smiled too much
on me, madame!"
Very slowly Miss Affry comprehend
ed his meaning.
Smiled on you!-Mercy?" she cried
in amaZement.
"As re angels smile, madame-out of
pure goodness Of heart. I love her-I
adore herI and I entreat you to keep
my secret. Let her be happy with your
nephew. AS for me, go away at once
Il cannot stay under this roof another
hour; ze sight Of her bliss would kill
madame! lay my heart open before
you-my hot, southern heart, Zat can
not keep silence like colder natures"
Aunt Affry was greatly shocked and
astonished. This italian music-master
loved Mercy-he was inconsolable at
the thought Of her approaching marrf-
age! Was this the secret Of VaPs dis
like for the man? Well, she was glad
that he was ready to leave Seedy Court
without being asked to do so. Half
vexed, half pitiful. she drew out her
shabby purse.
'Tm sure never dreamed Of such a
thing" she stammered; I'm very sor-
ry for you, sir. A trifle Is due you on
the room-here 1t Is. Indeed, the best
thing you can do Is to go at once"
And you will promise to say nothing
Of my consuming passion, either to ze
happy bridegroom or ze beauteous
bride, madame?" impiored Discordo.
Good gracious-no, indeed!" cried
Aunt Affry. 'T should not like to have
Val or Mercy know that you had spok-
en- to me Of the matter. Would you
like to take your luggage from the room
at once?"
with a mighty sigh the signor arose.
He had never had any luggage at his
Seedy Court lodging beyond common
handbag; nevertheless. he promptly
ascended the stairs to the second floor
front
Mercy's door stood open, for the day
was breathlessly hot, and Mercy her
self sat at the work table OF the dingy
back chamber, sewing and singing,
singing and sewing-the same, yet with
difference. The signor's step was so
noiseless on the landing, or, perhaps,
her own thoughts were so absorbing,
that she did not hear, neither see, the
dark -visaged apparition that paused a
moment at the head Of the stair to gaze
in upon her with eyes that might have
frightened a stouter heart than hers.
Anxious, for once, to avoid rather than
attract her attention, Discordo slipped
by the door, entered his own room and
gathered together a few sheets OF mu-
sic, a few books, few toilet articles,
which he had scattered about there,
simply to give some semblance Of real
| ity to the character he had assumed.
All the time he was doing this Mercy
Dilrs heavenly voice poured through
the thin partition that separated the
two chambers, in a food Of silver sweet
song. More than once he stopped to
listen, and his dark. wicked face put on
| look scarcely good to see.
Sing while you can, little bride" he
whispered to himself, with a shrug;
Sing your pious little Gospel songs,
petite-it is good TO be merry. And you
think to wed Ze red-haired clown? Bah!
zat will never do. cannot consent. And
ze day is set? No matter, my beautiful.
You are not for him-no, nevair!
swear it,"
when he descended the stair with his
| few possessions Mercy's door was clos
ed. So 1t came to PASS that she did not
see him, did not know he had been in
the house, until two or three hours la
| ter. when, in the presence Of Val, Miss
Affry, with studied carelessness. an
nounced THAT the second floor front
was vacant, and that Signor Discordo
had delivered up his keys and departed,
to return no mora bit Of informa-
ton which both Mercy and Val receiv-
ed in silence.
| One by one the days wore on-the
happiest of her life, Mercy used to
think, in the strange after-time.
| 1t was the evening before her marri-
age, dark, rainy, dubious. But inside
the lodging-house at Seedy Court three
hearts, at least cared little for the
weather. On Mercy's bed lay a gown
Of soft gray cashmere garnished with
ribbons and a ruff of white lace. This
was the wedding dress. From her own
meagre purse Miss Affry had added to
the little brides store a gray wrap to
match the gown, hat Of the same
quiet shade and whole heap of pref
ty, inexpensive lingerie. Val's gifts lay
beside his aunt's-useful things, be-
fitting the humble position Of this very
humble pair Of lovers; warm shawl
for the approaching autumn, the dainty
wedding gloves, few toilet trifles-al
of which Val had purchased at Miss
Affry's practical suggestion, fuming the
while at his own poverty and fervently
wishing that he could give his beautiful
/ darling, velvets and brocades and dia-
monds instead.
AS the supper hour struck, Miss At
fry called from the foot Of the stair:
Mercy, we are waiting for you, my
dear-Val will not taste his tea till yor
come down."
with a fresh ribbon pinned at hel
white throat-with her golden hail
shining and curling all about her pear
ly temples, Mercy went down to SUI
with her lover on this night before thell
marriage.
Never had the old sitting-room look
ed more picturesque and coy, or MISS
Affrys table more tempting. Vars rug
ged, unhandsome face told Its owr
story-he was simply in Paradise. HI
laid his evening paper, unopened, un'
, read upon the shelton what sligh
hinges of circumstance do our destine!
turn! Had Val read that sheet, ac
cording to his nightly custom, Mercy!
/ whole fate might have been changed
But what did he care for news upon al
evening like this? what did he care fol
the outer world? He had enough II
/ that plain little room to think about
fo... ha,,rn AIarn1r haanfifll gold