"A DYING MOTHER."
Even Roma's cruel heart was somewhat shocked at granny's malevolence
toward her beautiful young granddaughter, but she did not rebuke the
old hag; she only resolved to make capital of it. So she said:
"I don't want you to kill her, but I wish you could take her away from
here, where Jesse Devereaux can never find her again. She is in my way,
and I want her removed!"
"It would be worth money to you to get her out of your way," leered
granny cunningly:
Roma hesitated a moment, then answered frankly:
"Yes, but I could not promise to pay you much. Papa makes me a very
small allowance."
The old woman crept nearer to the beautiful, cruel creature, and gazed
up into her face with an expression of humble adoration, while she
murmured wheedlingly:
"I would take her away from here--far away--where she could never
trouble you again, pretty lady, for a reward that even you could
afford to bestow."
"What is that?" cried Roma eagerly, and she was startled when granny
answered nervously:
"A kiss!"
"A kiss!" the girl echoed wonderingly.
Granny was actually trembling with excitement, and she added pleadingly:
"You are so pretty, Miss Roma, that I have fallen in love with you, and
for my love's sake I would like to kiss you once. If you grant my wish,
I will be your slave for only one kind look and kiss!"
She was softened and agitated in a strange fashion, but she could not
help seeing that Roma recoiled in surprise and disgust.
"Really, this is very strange! I--I am not fond of kissing old women.
I scarcely ever kiss even my own mother. I would much rather pay you a
little money!" she exclaimed.
Granny's face saddened with disappointment, and she muttered:
"So proud; so very proud! She could not bear a downfall!"
Roma flushed with annoyance, and added:
"You seem so very poor that even a small sum of money ought to be
acceptable to you!"
"I am miserably poor, but I love you--I would rather have the kiss."
If Roma had known the old woman's miserly character she would have been
even more surprised at her fancy. As it was, she hardly knew what to
say. She gazed in disgust at the ugly, yellow-skinned and wrinkled old
hag, and wondered if she could bring herself to touch that face with
her own fresh, rosy lips.
"I--I would rather give you a hundred dollars than to kiss you!" she
blurted out, in passionate disgust.
Instantly she saw she had made a grave mistake. Granny drew back
angrily from the haughty girl, muttering:
"Hoity-toity, what pride! But pride always goes before a fall!"
"What do you mean?" flashed Roma.
A moment's silence, and granny answered cringingly:
"I only meant that you would be humiliated if that pretty Liane stole
Devereaux's heart from you and married him. The other night I beat
Liane for walking with him on the beach by moonlight!"
"Heavens! It is worse even than I thought!" cried Roma, springing to
her feet, pale with passion.
She advanced toward granny, adding:
"Will you take her away by to-morrow, and never let him see her face
again if I grant your wish?"
"I swear it, honey!"
"There, then!" and Roma held up her fresh, rosy lips, shuddering with
disgust as the old crone gave her an affectionate kiss that smacked
very strongly of an old pipe.
"Be sure that you keep your promise!" she cried, hastening from the
house.
Granny watched her until she was out of sight, clasping her skinny arms
across her breast, after the fashion of one fondling a beloved child.
"How proud, how beautiful!" she kept saying over to herself in delight.
Then she went in and closed the door, while she sat down to make her
plans for gratifying Roma's wish.
Not a breath of last night's happenings had reached her, for she seldom
held communication with any one, being feared and hated by the whole
community, as much as Liane was loved and pitied. She knew nothing
of the popular beauty contest, and that Liane had won the prize of
a hundred dollars. If she had known, she would have managed to get
possession of the money ere now. Liane, having spent the night with
Mary Lang, had gone to her work from there, and was having an ovation
from her girl friends, who put self aside and rejoiced with her over
her triumph.
The proud and happy girl answered gratefully:
"But for your persuasions I should never have ventured to send in my
picture for the contest. I want to testify my gratitude by giving each
of you five dollars to buy a pretty keepsake."
They protested they would not take a penny of her little fortune, but
the generous girl would not be denied.
"I have seventy-five dollars left! I am rich yet!" she cried gayly, for
Liane was the happiest girl in the world to-day.
But it was neither her signal triumph nor the money that made her
happy, it was because she had seen Jesse Devereaux again, and his
radiant, dark eyes had told her the story of his love as plain as words.
Though she was grateful to the handsome artist for his attentions, she
was disappointed because he had kept Jesse from walking home with her
last night.
But she looked eagerly for some demonstration from him to-day. Perhaps
he would send her some more flowers, for he had whispered gladly as
they parted:
"Thank you for wearing the roses I sent you!"
Liane's heart leaped with joy at hearing the flowers had come from
Jesse, and she placed them carefully away that night, determined to
keep them always, for his dear sake.
How her heart sank when Dolly Dorr, who had been rather quiet and sulky
that morning, suddenly remarked:
"Mr. Devereaux went off, bag and baggage, they say, to Boston last
night, so I suppose that is the last we shall see of him!"
Liane could not keep from exclaiming regretfully:
"Oh, dear!"
"You seem to be sorry!" Dolly cried significantly.
All eyes turned on Liane, and she blushed rosy red as she bent lower
over the work she was sewing.
Dolly added curtly:
"I did not think you would be so ready to take away another girl's
chance, Liane."
"But he has broken with Miss Clarke. They quarreled last night," said
Lottie Day.
"I did not mean Miss Clarke. I meant myself. Liane knows he has paid me
some attention, and that I have set my cap at him! I thought she was
my true friend, but I caught her making eyes at him last night!" Dolly
exclaimed ruefully.
The gay girls all laughed at Dolly's jealousy, but Liane could not
say a word for embarrassment, knowing in her heart how baseless were
Dolly's hopes.
The angry little maiden continued:
"He told me last night that he was free from Miss Clarke; and I believe
I could win him if no one tried to spoil the sport. I would never have
introduced him to Liane if I had thought she would try to cut me out."
"Oh, Dolly, you know I have not tried. Could I help his coming to speak
to me last night?" cried Liane.
"No, but you needn't have encouraged him by flirting when he spoke to
you, blushing and rolling up your eyes."
A derisive groan went around among the merry band at Dolly's charge,
and Mary Lang spoke up spiritedly:
"Dolly Dorr, you are simply making yourself ridiculous, putting in a
claim to Mr. Devereaux because he happened to speak to you once or
twice! Any one with half an eye can see he's in love with Liane, and
I'll state for your benefit that he told her last night he sent her
that bouquet of roses, and he wanted to walk home with her, only Mr.
Dean was ahead of him!"
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" ran the chorus of voices, Liane drooping her head in
blushing confusion, and Dolly pouting with disappointment, while she
cried spitefully:
"He's nothing but a wretched flirt! He flirted with Miss Clarke, and
then with me, and next with Liane! I'm glad he got ashamed of himself,
and sneaked off; and I hope he will never come back!"
Her little fit of temper spoiled the rest of the day for the girls, and
Liane Lester was glad to get away at six o'clock, where, after a while,
she could be alone with her own thoughts.
But granny was sniveling, with her apron to her eyes, when she entered
the poverty-stricken room.
"What is it, granny? Are you ill?" she asked.
"No, I have bad news!"
"Bad news?"
"Yes; I've heard from my daughter, your mother, at last. She's dying
down to Boston, and wants you and me to come," with an artful sob.
"But, of course, we cannot go!" Liane said, with strange reluctance.
"But, of course, we can. I've got a little money; enough for the trip.
I've just been waiting for you to come and help me to pack our clothes."
"That will not take long. Our wardrobes are not extensive. But, I--I
don't want to go!" declared Liane.
"You unnatural child, not to want to see your poor dying mother!"
snapped the old woman.
"She has been an unnatural mother!" answered the girl warmly.
"No matter about that! She is my child, and I want to see her before
she dies, and you've got to go, willy-nilly! So go along with you and
get the tea ready; then we will get packed to go on the first train!"
declared granny, with grim resolution.