American essays; Short stories, American; Western stories
"Tell me about that story," said Lola, her woman's interest in a woman's
heart-story aroused; "you once said that she had been disappointed."
"Not she so much as this uncle whom my mother wanted to marry Miss
Myrick. It seems that he was engaged to some other young lady--some
lovely maid--but a hard-hearted wretch of a brother, or cruel, unfeeling
parent interfered--"
"Don't speak so lightly, Charlie," pleaded Lola, her eyes filling with
tears; "it _is_ bad to have brother or parent come between yourself and
the one you love, is it not?"
"Why, Lola darling, what has happened? Does your heart fail? Do you
already doubt your love for me, or the strength to assert it?"
"No, no, Charlie--never fear. It is you or death; you know what I have
said," and her tiny fingers clasped his strong hand. "But you know as
well as I that papa will interfere when he discovers--"
"That you intend to become a poor man's wife. Lola, you know the law I
have made for you--the only command I would ever lay on you," and his
voice, though tender, was firm, "when you marry me you will be a poor
man's wife, not a rich man's daughter. Not a cent of your father's
money, good and kind man though he be, will ever be brought across my
threshold, even should he be willing to give you the fortune he holds in
store for some wealthy son-in-law. There, my angel, let us have done
with tragedy and care." It was easy to make an excuse for stooping, so
as to touch her fingers with his lips. "Who knows but I shall be a rich
man yet before I claim you? I have been sorely tempted to try my luck in
something new they have just struck."
"What? After you told Miss Angelina about your vow?"
"But it is something truly wonderful; I have it from old Bingham
himself. He cannot go into it--at least not under his own name--and
there are only two or three others to be initiated." He was gazing
meditatively at the roof of a house that peeped out from among a clump
of trees below and far to the right of him. "There's the money I laid by
for paying on the house, and Aunt Myrick, I know, has five hundred in
the bank; if I knew I could only double it within the year--"
"Don't touch anything belonging to Aunt Myrick, or she will instantly
conceive it to be her duty to work still harder, because you might be
unfortunate--and then what would become of the old blind woman and the
paralyzed man, and the sick family back of the grocery, and her old
gouty cat, and the boy with fits--"
"Hush, hush--I'll not touch a cent belonging to her," vowed Charlie,
with his hands to his ears.
The sun was sinking low, and after it had been agreed between them just
how many dances Lola was to give to strange gentlemen at the coming
ball, and how many Charlie was to claim, and how often Charlie in turn
was to dance with Miss Angelina, and how often with Fanny and Tilly, the
lovers descended the hill more slowly, if possible, than they had
climbed it, and finally parted within sight of Lola's home.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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