Conduct of life -- Fiction; Railroads -- Fiction; Swindlers and swindling -- Fiction
"Indeed! I congratulate you. By the way, haven't I met you before?"
"If you have been in Italy, sare. I am Count Cattelli of Milan."
Stanwood smiled slightly, and returned to his own table.
The next day Miss Ferguson received the following note:
MY DEAR MISS FERGUSON:
What I am about to write will pain you, but I cannot permit you to be
grossly deceived. The gentleman whom you introduced to me as Count
Cattelli at Delmonico's last evening shaved me last March in a
barber-shop in Chicago. He may be a count, but I advise you to speak to
your father on the subject. Your well wisher,
CHARLES STANWOOD.
Miss Ferguson went into a fit of hysterics, but followed the advice of
her correspondent. The count, on being taxed with his deception, first
indulged in bravado, but finally acknowledged that he had served as a
barber, but still claimed to be a count. Mr. Ferguson, intensely
mortified, agreed to give him two hundred dollars if he would leave the
city at once. Notices that the wedding had been indefinitely postponed
were sent to all who had received cards, and Luella disappeared for a
time. There were numerous reports as to the cause of the marriage being
postponed, but the secret was well kept. Luella is still unmarried, and
is likely to remain so, unless some one marries her for her money.
Ruth Patton is now the wife of Alfred Lindsay. The young lawyer made a
private call on Mr. Ferguson, which resulted in the latter disgorging
the ten thousand dollars of which he had defrauded Ruth's mother, so
that she did not come to her husband portionless.
All goes well with Fred Fenton. He is still in the employ of John
Wainwright, on a largely increased salary, and is always a welcome
guest at the home of the banker. Rose is as partial to him as ever, and
it would not be surprising if she should some day marry the ex-Erie
train-boy. Fred and his mother live in a handsome flat up town, and
Albert, his younger brother, is making rapid progress as a designer. It
looks as if the clouds had passed away, succeeded by the sunshine of
permanent prosperity.
THE END.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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