Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1923-10-20
HER MONEY
BY CAROLYN BEECHER

What has gone. before-Althea Cros-
by dying, leaves her home and $4,000
in bonds to her orphaned niece and
namesake whom she has never seen.
The $4,000 bequest is willed to become
the girls the day she Weds, with the
provision she must marry before she is
35. The young heiress finds her a1nt's
| diary which discoses that the peculiar
condition was due to her aunt's loneli-
ness in her loveless old age. A!thea
rents the home at Holden to widow
for $40 a month and returns to New
York to resume her work as clerk in
department store and her roommate,
Molly, tells her friends about AltAea's
- good lucknow go on with the story.
CHAPTER VII.
A LTHEA thrilled whenever she thought
IN. of her home, but she gave the money
n no thought Aunt Althea had lived
quiet sheltered life that she had no under-
standing of how little marriage meant to
the Girl of nowadays A few girls whom
she had known had married and she told
| herself she would not change places VIII WIFI
one of them, not for many times $5O'oOu.
She never had been particularly popular
with Young men, and she had the perspicac-
| ity to realize that the sudden desire some OF
| them evinced for her society had nothing
| to do with her-everything to do with the
| rumor that she was an helress.
1t wasn't flattering to say the least, but
she accepted invitations, had better times
| than ever before in her life, smiling to her.
self as she allowed anxious SWANS to spend
| their good money on her. quietly she con-
| tinued to sell gowns and coats, no whit
| changed because of her prospective legacy
| the legacy with string.
| To MolIie she said: II never knew was
beautiful until Aunt Althea died. Before
that no one ever raved over my hair ana
eyes, and went into spasms over my com
| plexion and figure. It's wonderful what her
| death did for me-it's been regular beauty
parlor treatment.
returned
| mice looking yes I hope SO anyway.
But I'm no better looking than I was six
| months ago. You didnt see them tumbling
over each other to take me out then:
had three invitations for the theater tonight,
and not one of those fellows would have
asked me if they hadn't heard I had in
herited money"
"It's awfully nice to have such good times,
though isn't it? I used to feel sorry for
YOU when I went out and left you sitting
alone" replied Mollie, who always had been
popular.
Althea WINGED. She thought of her aunt
how she had sat alone year after year, and
finally died-alone. 1t was nice to have
good times like gay little Mollie always
dd-if only the young men would not be
quite so obvious. Althea was not without
her sense of humor and their thinly yelled
questions, their insinuating remarks, often
made her laugh heartily when she talked
with Mollie.
eff they worked half as hard trying to
earn money themselves as they do trying to
| find out how much Aunt Althea really left
me, they'd be rich!" she told Mollie.
{ But you'll marry someone some day.
Molie said. 81 think it's awful to just work
aways-just for ones self"
Most girls know who have married
work a darn sight harder than we do" AL
thea answered, land don't seem so terribly
| happy over it either
| "But-oh, Althea! They have someone
to love them, and to love. Sounds silly,
doesn't it, to talk that way, but oh, well!
I'm sort of foolish 1 guess. I wouldn't be
an old maid-one of the bachelor girls-not
for always. Not for anything"
Althea laughed at MolIie, but unconscious
| 1y her thoughts flew to the diary she had
destroyed, to her Aunt Althea, who because
she had missed love thought her life a fail
ure, something to be ashamed of.
Mollie was a sentimental little thing,
reader of cheap novels. She was alone in
| the world was Althea. 1t had been this
| that brought them together.
| Althea was more independent than Moll1e
rather enjoyed being her own boss, as she
expressed it. She was inclined to be bit
masterful, go her own way without par
ticular consideration for others
eff I had that ducky house I'd marry
| the first man that asked me and go there
! and live" Mollie declared.
"You couldn't eat the house and there's
nothing to do in that little village" Althea
| replied.
| John Murray, in the mems glove depart
! ment, quiet sort of a fellow, had OCCASION
! ally taken Althea to movie or a Sunday
outing before she became a prospective heir
ess. He had been almost the only young
man to show her attention then, but now
| he was only one of many. He, like others
! in the store, wondered why Althea remained
| in her old position, working just as hard
as she had before but concluded 1t was
because she was waiting for matters to be
| settled.
We'll miss you when you co." he said
to her.
II don't intend to CO." she replied shortly.
| "But-but you don't have to work now"
| he said unable to understand.
IL like work-like it a great deal better
than might some other things" Althea Of
course referred to the husband she would
| have to take to get her legacy.
John acts like a fool.' she told Mbllie.
! "He acts afraid of me- He used to be
| lot nicer. l don't see what's got into him"
Continued Tuesday. Renew. your subScrip.
| ton now not to miss a Chapter Of
| this splendid story. ,.