The Glenwood post., 1920-03-13
CHAPTER XXI.

At least 1t may be claimed for
George that his last night in the house
where he had been born was not oc-
cupied with his own disheartening fu-
ture, but with sorrow for what sac.
rifices his pride and youth had de-
manded of others. And early in the
morning he came downstairs and tried
to help Fanny make coffee on the
kitchen range.
"There was something 1 wanted to
say to you last night, Aunt Fanny" he
said.
"Why-why-" she stammered; but
she knew what he was going to say,
and that was why she had been more
and more nervous. "Hadn't-perhaps
perhaps we'd better get the-the
things moved to the little new home
first, George. Let's"
He interrupted quietly, though at
her phrase, 'the littla new home." his
pungent impulse was to utter one loud
shout and run. sit was about this new
place that 1 wanted to speak. I've
been thinking 1t over and I've decided
I want you to take all the things
from mothers room and use them and
little apartment will be just what you
like; and with the extra bedroom prob.
ably you could find some woman
friend to come and live there and
share the expense with you. But I've
decided on another arrangement for
myself. and so I'm not going with you
l don't suppose you'll mind much, and
I don't see why you should mind-par
ticularly, that is. I can't imagine you.
or anyone else, being much attached to
me. So"
He stopped In amazement: no chair
had been left in the kitchen, but
Fanny gave despairing glance around
her In search of one, then sank alb
ruptly and sat fiat upon the floor.
"What on earth" George sprans
to her. Get up, Aunt Fanny"
II can't. I'm too weak. Let me
alone, Georgew And as he released
the wrist he had seized to help her she
uttered the dismal prophecy which fol-
days she had been matching against
her hopes: you're going to leave
me-in the lurchl"
"Why no, Aunt Fanny" he protest
ed. "At first I'd have been something
of burden on you. I'm to get eight
dollars week; about thirty-two q
month. The rents thirty-si1 dollars
month, and the table d'hote dinner
runs up to over twenty-five dollars
apiece. SO with my half of the rent
eighteen dollars-Td have less than
nothing left out of my salary to pay
my share Of the groceries for all the
breakfasts and luncheons. You see
you'd not only be doing all the house
work and cooking, but you'd be paying
more Of the expenses than I would"
She stared at him with such for.
lorn Darkness as he had never seen.
I'D be paying" she said feebly. I'D
be paying"
Certainly you would. You'd be
using more Of your money than
"My money! Fanny's chin dropped
upon her thin chest and she laughed
miserably. I've got twenty-eight dol.
lars. That's ALL"
you mean until the interest II due
AGAIN."
II mean that's ALL" Fanny said. II
mean that's all there is. There won't
be any more interest because there
Isn't any principal"
"Why you told"
She shook her head. mo. 1 haven't
told you anything"
'Then 1t was Uncle George. He
told me you had enough to fall back
on. That's just what he said: to fall
back on He said you'd lost more
than you should in the headlight com.
pany, but he'd insisted that you should
hold out enough to live on. and you'd
very wisely followed his advice"
II know" she said weakly. II told
him so. He didn't know. or else he'd
forgotten how much Wilbur's insur
anee amounted to, and I-oh, it seemed
such a sure way to make real for
tune out of little-and I thought ]
could do something for you, George,
II you ever came to heed it-and 1t all
looked so bright l Just thought I'd put
1t all in. / did-every cent except my
last interest payment-and it's gone"
Good Lord' George began to
pace up and down the worn planks Of
the bare floor. "Why on earth did
you wait till now to tell such thing
MS ihis?'
81 couldn't till had to-" she said
plteously. 1t wouldn't do any good
not any good on EARTH" She got out
her lace handkerchief and began to
cry. Nothing does any good, l guess,
in this old world! Oh, how tired of
this old world am | didn't know
what to do. Just tried to go ahead