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TO-DAY'S SHORT STORY.] Price…

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TO-DAY'S SHORT STORY.] Price of Her Wealth, (ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.) The great gates were closed, the stately hall door chained, the marks of wheels were on the gravel—wheels that went but came not back again. The grand hearse was gone, the mourning1 mrria-ges containing: only the phy- uician and family solicitor, with a few of the acquaintances of the dead ream, a:nd no more. He had no relatives, for he had out- lived them all. Eig-hty.and-fiTe years hai summer smiled and winter frowned since li,acrt he iired In a superbly furnished boudoir u^tairs sat his widow, aiienii and alone. She was your, g-emtle, lovely, and eat in her sombre garments, neither weeping DI s"ghir:,g--an ly thiT-ikir,,g. Servants stoie softly in and out, glancing x^opectftilily at her as they raised the blinds and opened the windows: for the funeral waa over, and the room was cloee and warm. The widow did not stir in her great easy chair, her white hands lay folded on her Grape gown, her head resting: against the cushions in tranquil repose. Until now her thoughts bad been of the recent death, the ruehanig about, the whispers of the nurses, the doctors, then the funeral ajid the old clergyman's pompous remarks. She went over it a.11 mechanically, and when she came to the end her mind seemed to halt for a moment, then fly back through the last five years to her wedding day. "Eighty and eighteen," someone had said, and the bride shuddered as she heard the words. That very day five years ago she bad ,wakened early, hurried on a grey frock and light hat, then stole out in the morning for one hour of preparation. She was miserable, t-hough she had calmly decided that the mar- riage was her duty, and had told the man whom she loved and who also loved her, that tt was so. He was a struggling artist whose pictures would not sell, and who could not even offer her a home. He had argued and tried to shake her resolution, stormed and raved, but Ehe remain/led firm, saying: It is for the best, Allan." He looked at her curiously, and his poverty and hopeless future rose before him. He could not offer her nothing, not even a home. I may be happier if I know that you are being taken care of," he said. "The old Jtuun is kind." "And very, very old," she had answered. Then she had married this very, very old man and striven to do her duty. Sometimes lie who had been the playmate of her grand- father looked wistfuiiy at her and asked. Child, are you content?" Then she would puit her hand in his and smile, and at this the old man would smile back and whisper, You have a long time yet to live." She had lived a very sstately, quiet life in the welJ-appointed house, and her (servants had tended her with unobtrusive care. When the old man died the housekeeper had sent to London for the mourning o1.1fttter, and the widow had passively allowed herself to be fitted with the sombre cloth and heavy crape. There had been a discussion between the housekeeper, the lady's maid, and the woman from the outfitter's as to a widow's can. "-Ifila(ti must hav dp cap, I declare it," cried the French maid. "Just for a little time, good Madame Hicks." The woman from the outfitter's Paid: I will take it to my lady and let her decide, mam'selle." She did decide, and beckoning1 to mam'selle, bent her tall figure towards the little French maid, wlib, standing on a stool, fastened the trifle of lace on the fair, sunny head. Then duly arrayed in propriety the widow had -,a,t b,. ide the coffin while the clergyman rvlowly went throus-h the serriof. She bad felt no sorrow for the old man; indeed, scarcely realised that he no longer needed her. But after the door closed upon the footman who had been brightening up her boudoir, she drew a long breath, stood up and raised her arms on high. Her slender form quivered, then drew itself up to its fullest height, her lips parted, and one word tscaped: "Free!" Five years has she borne, with smiles and pleasant words, a life of hardness of which none but herself knew; now freedom had i come. And who will say that freedom can ever be too late? < When evening fell they summoned her with gentle voices to the dining-room, where was laid a cosy. round table decorated with soft pini and crimson flowers, not one white petal to remind her of the heaps paled on the coffin that very day. Thus had they been thoughtful for her in their love and duty. She scarcely pasted food, but drank some wine, and th?r? bidding her people good-night, j went to her fbom. The French maid she dis- missed with a gentle word, then !ocked the door of her boudoir. Entering her dressing- room, she walked to one of the great mirrors end surveyed herself from head to foot. As | ehe did so her eyes flashed, her lips pouted, and a faint flush rose to her cheeks. "It's all false!" she cried. "I mut have done with it for ever. She unpinned the cap and tossed it upon the toilet table, shaking her head as if glad to be rid of it. Then she hastily unbuttoned the straight, prim bodice, and drew it off, then the heavy, craps skirt, and threw them over a chair. Let the false go," she said emphatically. Now for the true." She opened a wardrobe, where cloaks and mantles hnng in profusion. From one oorner peeped an end of grey cashmere. A touch, and a small grey frock fell from amidst the rich dTesses and wraps of silk and lace. She took it up gently and pnt it on, for it was the little grey frock she had worn five years ago. As its folds fell aroumd her she glanced at the mirror and smiled. There was a sweet wistfulness in her smile, a troubled, yearn, ing expression on her face. Sudrlenly a light ca-me into her eyes until they danced with eacer ho.Je and excitement. Oh. if I only might," she whispered. Allan cannot have forgotten me." With soft fingers she unlocked the door and f lanced along the dimly-lighted corridor, then she fled back to the wardrobe, and, with trembling finuers, sought a long black cloak of some lustrous material. Wrapping: it round her, she again surveyed herself in the mirror, then drew the hood of the great Cloak ever her head. "I will go," ahe said, and c'hut her lipe firmly. The hon^e was atill by this time, for the eerva-nts had gone to their rooms, and no one was about as she made her way to the library. From this room a small glass door opened on to the terrace, which the unlocked, put the key tn her bosom, then passed out. It was a long xvalk across the mooniit park to a side gate that opened into a lane. She slipped through this entrance, and, like a elim. black ghost, fled down the lane, along a quiet road, arid dawn another lane until her goal wa,3 reached. She was now stand'ng before a modern ▼ilia, from the windows of which a bright. light was shining, ald st,ra.i,ns of sweet music fell on her The slim ftgmre in black approached one of the windows of a room cm the ground floor, acd as she did so the Bntisic ceased. Serecninig herself behind a me brtab she peeped into f room, and saw amongst others pr?»o>nt a man a w^r&ajn Etanding before a picture, tuid upca ttKum her eyes became riveted. The woman tr?.. tsll nnd stately, pJèDtlJùly l1re&ed. with doud", sparkling in tÀ-é r CARDIFF v. SOMERSET POLO MATCH. ) Above are snapshots of the Cardiff v. Somerset Polo Match at Whitchurch. In the firist picture are the members of the Somer set team. They are (from left to right): Mr. Henngennes, Mr. Croeby, Mr. Vere Foster, and Mr. Merson. l = New Council School at Briton Ferry. [Photo, Lavington, Briton Ferry. I Horse-Fair in Thomas Street, Llanelly. masses of her black hair and glittering on her snow-white arms. The man was tall and distinguished-looking, and he bent over this handsome woman in an attitude of unmis- takable devotion. It was Allan, the man whom she loved, and to whom she had come on this the first day of her freedom. The picture she also knew -well, for was it not a portrait of herself dressed in the grey cash- I mere frock, painted by Allan? When painting it had he not whispered to her of love, and I had not his eyes looked as eloquent ait her then a.9 they did now upon this woman with the raven black hair and the Fparkli-uc dia- monds? She heard their laughter, saw them turn away from the picture, and she orouûhed closer to the sheltering rose bush as the two approached the open window. It was that picture that first brought me into notice," she heard Alln eay. J "And what of her?" asked her companion. She married old Lord Barton for his I money. He is dead," said the woman. I know," he returned; but that matters not, sweetheart. A woman that would sacri- fice love and happiness for gold is not worthy of an honest man's respect." The slender figure in black quivered like an aspen ieai, pressed her hand on hei siide, and gasped for breath. The music struck up and the dancers circied round the room to its wildly delirious strains. She saw Allan with hiõ round the black-haired woman, and the love-light shining from his eyes. This was what she had gained her freedom to w i "r: another woroftrt boatig loved i-'oe had been leved, another woman ) ruling the heart she had once ruled. It was the price ahe had paid for her wealth. Ap&ift siio pressed her hand on her side, .slowly turned away. The truth was to her mind now, her freedom had cow. too late. With lagging steps she t-rcvvc^v^'d the winding road 'neath the cold •»7xl ¡ t; ],;>("-8 nKxttiight—-back to her loveless baok toO her wealth.

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