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To-day's Short Story.

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To-day's Short Story. A LOVER'S ARTIFICE. Allan Frothingiiam. was one of those favoured individuals whom we often en- counter in real life who had been fortunate enough to come into this toiling, scheming world with a silver spoon in his mouth. In a word he was born rich; but to be born rich does not always imply moral bank- ruptcy or absolute selfishness and indiffe- rence to the rights of others. To accept this idea only in an exceptional sense, we will do our hero the justice to present him to the reader as one of those exceptions. Allan Frothingham was, indeed, one of the most unselfish, kind-hearted, and punctiliously honourable young fellows in the world. He left the city on a sweltering August day to visit a relative in the country. It was a large modern built farmhouse, with a broad verandah in front, which his relative occupied. It was about five o'clock when he alighted from an elegant phaeton on the sweltering August afternoon in ques- tion, and was welcomed with open arms by his maternal aunt, a cheerful, middle-aged lady in mob cap and spectacles. "You are just in season!" cried the amiable lady, gaily, "both for tea and an introduc- tion to the prettiest girl in Haselmere!" and without waiting for excuses from the not over forward young gentleman, she hurried him directly to the sitting room where the young lady was seated. "Thsia is my nephew, Miss Vane-Miss Eleanor Vane—Mr. Allan Frothingham!" Frothingham blushed to the roots of his hair, but managed to go through the usual commonplaces. The young lady was easy, graceful, and self-poised. She was the most beautiful creature, too, Allan thought, he had ever seen. Allan Frothingham begun the acquaintance with the profoundest admiration of Eleanor, and his admi ration soon became most exalted love and worship. They were sitting one evening in the draw- ing-room-a lovely moonlight evening in the latter end of September—her soft hand rest- ing passively in his, without the slightest indication of earthly passion in her towch, her great luminous eyes bent upward, as though in subdued wonder and curiosity. It was hard to say whether her thoughts were lingering on the earth or wandering thtoug-h remote fields of space. Both had been silent for many minutes. This was to be the last tright for Allan Frothingham's stay in Brompton. Mias Vane—Eleanor," he at length stam- mered, after a desperate effort to control his tongue amd direct it into the almost inaccessible curremt of speech. I-I want to say somssthmg before I go." Eleanor turned and goa.ed into his face with a mild, encouraging look of inquiry. Oh! what an electrical thrill that simple look sent through him! "What is it, Mr. Prothiughaza?"she asked. Eleanor," he went on floundering, I hardly know how to express to you ail that I wiah CODTey- I desire to be your friend, and, if possible, infinitely more than that. I feel as tboagh I would like to bestow on you the advantages of wealth, but I hardly know in what way to addxees you. If you were willing to become my wife, Eleanor, my fortune--everything I possessr-should be freely placed at Your command, and with these advantages to aid you your surprising talents might be brought much, more promi- nently before the world. I wieh to place my fortun-e at your NispceaJ." Eleanor was capable of a deep, strong, prze love such as but few women are qualified to experience in this world; but her lover seamed soanewhot patronising, as if the pos- session of his wealth garve him the right to consider himself her superior. Although she sincerely loved the blunt, honest-hearted fellow, her pride compelled her to refuse the hand thus offered. She readly believed that they could never become con-genial spirits. She answered him in a way that left no room for hope, aad he departed from Hasel- mere the next morning broken-hearted and despairing. She had not only refused him, bat had firmly declined all offers of pecuniary assistance at his harnds. A happy thought at length struck him. He went to the lawyer, and was closeted with him for several hours. The next week he took passage on one of the steazziferg tot the Continent. Six months later Eleanor was astonished at the reception of a telegram from Paris requesting her imraeddate attend- ance on business of the utmost importance to herself at the office of Gilbert Bobisson, Lincoln's Inn, On arriving at the office of that gentleman, and making herself known, she was in- expressibly shocked at the announcement of Allan FrotbiughaamCs accidental death in Switzerland, with the equally unexpected declaration that he had left a. will in her favour before quitting the country. Eleanor went back to Haelemere ten thousand pounds richer than she came; but instead of rejoicing she returned paae, heart- broken, and dmgpattted. She felt that through her sensitive oftetmacsy she had destroyed a. man who loved her as much as any man was capable of loving, and one whom she loved in leturn as few women had the sourl to love. Hearing of some friends contemplating a tourr on the Continent, she signified her willingness to join them In company with her friends while in Some, she visited the art galleries and the studies of oeiebraited English and French painters then resident in the Eternal City. In the studio of a young English artist, then struggling; for his nraaxien Lampels, but j eince well known to fame, she discovered a remarkably well-exaouted Ubenem of Allan FrotMaghain. "Is that portrait for æ;]e?" she inquired, with eager earnestness, trembling lest she should be disappointed by the refusal. "I am st;raggling," said the young painter modestly, "and should not be likely to refuse a reasonable offer. Are you acquainted witih the original?" "I was before he went abroad," answered Eftaanor confusedly. And then, to cover up her oonfmamna, she offered the painter a. large price for the por- trait, which he joyfully accepted. "The origan of this, Mr. Allan Frothing- ham," said the youthful artist errthaMiasti- cally, "is the noblest young fellow living1 and the best amateur painter in Rome. But for him I might have starved ere this, 11 fear." What t" cried Eleanor trembling with excitement. How do I understand you ? Is not Mr. Frothingham dead?" Not that I am aware of," replied his friend conikfenttly, -unlem he has died this morning. We have chummed it together far the last six months, and I expect him in every minute." Eleanor fainted to the surprise of every- one. In the midst of the excitement pro- duced by this singular occurrence Frothing- i ham entered, but not until Eleanor was, resuscitated did he recognise her. I That evening, as they sat hand in hand I upon the balcony of the hotel in which she and her friends stopped, just as on that last evening in Haselmere a year ago, with I the exception of that now they had came to a clear understanding, Eleanor inquired how l it was that a faJse report of his death- hap- pened to reach her. "Oh, that was all arranged before I left the country. You had refused me amd all my offers of aseistaaice, so I had no alterna- tive but to stoop to subterfuge in ordei tul enforce my dekgns.11 He felt the warm pressure of herhand. The next month An-urt Frothinghasni and Eleanor Vame were married in the presence of a party of select friends.

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