Democratic Sentinel, Volume 11, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 May 1887 — A TEŔIBLE FIX. [ARTICLE]

A TEŔIBLE FIX.

BY JOHN DE MORGAN.

“By Jove, I’m in for it this time. What a crazy loon I must have been. How can I get out of the difficulty?” Handsome Bertie Raymond paced up and down the floor of his law office in Broadway, like a caged lion anxious to get loose. lie was in a fix. for “Handsome Bertie,” as he was called, was the pet of society, the idol of the ladies, and the beloved of at least two of the fair sex. . Aud the fix, unpleasant enough to Cause the perspiration to pour from every pore of his body, was in relation to those two ladies. He had compromised himself with each. There was charming Polly Glynn, whose winsome ways had so won on Bertie’s affections that he had all but popped the question.” We say “all but,” for Polly’s young brother rushed into the room just as Bertie was about to ask the charming Polly to share all hig wealth, which was about twenty dollars, and glad-' den his life. Polly Glynn was in love with Bertie, and as he was handsome and a lawyer, albeit without practice, and she was rich, the match was a desirable one. So at least thought Polly. But Bertie thought he had luckily escaped, for there was the stately queen of society, Maud Travers, who was .desperately in love with him, and who owned a brown stone mansion on Madison avenue, and had a private banking account, independent of her mother’s millions, for Maud was the daughter of a millionaire widow. Bertie had made love to Polly and Maud, * but if the truth be told, it was merely lip service. ‘He liked the girls rarely,” he told himself, “and could be comfortable with either, but as for love, why—no, not exactly.” The attraction was the money, and as Maud possessed the biggest amount, she was to be the chosen one in his own good time. Bertie Baymond’s fix was occasioned by his own carelessness. Usually he was so very precise and careful that no mistake could occur. But on this particular morning, he had a call from an old lady who wished him to attend to her law business. This put Raymond all in a flutter, for clients were very rare visitors. He had written three letters and mailed two of them, the third lay in his desk and was the cause of his excitement. He had written one letter to “Dearest Maud,” in which he had poured forth his soul, and told his love in impassioned strains. Things were getting desperate, and so he had determined to end the suspense and get married to the wealthy beauty. A second letter was to Polly, and to her he also told his love, how he regretted the intrusion just at an eventful moment, and wound up his letter with expressions of endearment, but without directly proposing. The third letter we will read. It read as follows: “Dear Dan —l am in a devil of a fix. Will you lend me five hundred for a month? Those cursed sharpers are after me, and I shall go into Ludlow Street unless I can pay up. It looks black for me. If you can do so, I will repay at the specified time, for I shall bag the heiress within a month. It will be like living with an iceberg, but her gold will help to warm life elsewhere, so, as I cannot have all, I must not complain. She is dying with love for me, and brown stone, carriages, and at least a hundred thousand will drop into my mouth all at One bite. Yours ever, Bertie.” The letters were sealed, and the officeboy sent out to mail those to the ladies; the other was kept for further deliberation. “By Jove! I’ll ask Dan to dinner, and talk over the heiress, and I’ll be sure to get the loan,” he said, as soon as his client had left.

Taking up the envelope he opened it to add a postscript to the letter, when, to his astonishment, he read: “My dearest Polly—” He had sent the letter intended for Dan O’Brien to one of the ladies. But to whom? That was the dilemma. Whichever got the letter would think the was the insulted one. “What can I do?” he asked again. “I have it,” he cried out, loud enough to make the clerks in a near-by office think their neighbor must have taken leave of his senses. Bertie put on his hat and rushed breathlessly to the nearest Western Union Office. To each of the fair ones he telegraphed: “Bum my letter unopened, will explain.” “Both ladies are honorable” he thought, “and will at once destroy the letter; but •wbat if my telegram be too late?” The cold perspiration broke out again, and Bertie Haymond cursed his careless folly. 111-luck attended him, for some repairs were being executed and the telegraph operator delayed the messages for two hours. Early in the evening he called at the palatial home of Maud Travers. She received him with stateliness. For some time he conversed with heron general topics, net daring to refer to the letter. At last he mustered up courage and asked: “Did you receive my telegram?” “No, did ybu send one?” His heart palpitated rapidly, what could lave become of it? 1 “Yes J” he answered.

“One came for mamma about two hours ago.” “Might I see it?” “You can see the envelope. Mamma was out, and so it has not been opened.” Bertie looked at the envelope and saw it wa’ addressed to Mrs. Travers. The stupid operator had sent it to Mrs. instead of Miss. “Did you-get a letter from me?” “Yes!” coldly. “It was all a mistake,” he commenced. “Yes, I thougbfcso.” Notbinj-more could he get from her, so he hastened his departure. It was yet early, and he would risk all by calling on Polly Glynn. No sooner bad Bertie left Miss Travers than she burst into tears. “Oh, why was Iso cold to him? Poor fellow, he loves me so much that he gets confused. What right had I to be cold when it was his love which caused him to send me a law document instead of a letter? Perhaps that telegram would explain. I will open it. Yes, there it is: ‘ Burn my letter unopened.’ Poor fellow, I will write him a nice letter and inclose him the document he sent me.” Polly Glynn was pleased to see handsome Bertie. “Oh, Bertie,” she said, with a freedom which betokened possession, “I did not understand your telegram.” “Why?” he asked again, quivering with excitement “I had read your letter and I was so happy-” “The deuce!” he murmured. “You are not sorry, are you?” she asked naively. “Sorry?” he repeated, quite perplexed. “Yes, Bertie, you don’t regret? Oh, don’t break my heart ” And Polly hid her face on his shoulder and sobbed as though her heart woulcj break. Handsome Bertie was quite overcome, and he whispered in her ear the words that would bind him to her for life. Later in the evening she rather surprised him by remarking: “It was a funny conceit calling me your darling Maud!” “Whew!” he whistled to himself, “I see it. She got Maud’s letter and thinks it intended for her.” The time passed pleasantly, and Bertie Raymond and Polly Glynn had pledged their trust, and even fixed a day for the wedding before they parted that night. “I’ffi'Uot sorry, ”he thought on his way home, “for Polly is a lively, jolly creature, and I sha’n’t freeze,Jthat’s one consolation.” Next morning Raymond was mortified to find that the letter he had written to Dan O’Brien had been slipped into his drawer, and so hadn’t been sent to either of the ladies. -“What, in the name of fortune, did I send to Maud, then?” That query was soon answered, for he recognized among his letters one in the stately Maud’s writing. Breaking the seal, he read words of loving endearment, and apologies for her coldness the preceding evening. He had sent her some penciled notes on a law case, which of course she could not understand. Her coldness was assumed, in order to teach him a lesson not to be so careless in future. “Well, I’ma biggeridiot than I thought,” he said, as he read the letter, and knew that it was now too late. He managed by some means to gently undeceive Maud, and told her he loved her —with a brother’s affection. Polly Glynn became Polly Raymond in two weeks, and, under her gentle guidance, handsome Bertie is as happy and prosperous as anyone could wish to be. Not until he danced his first-born on his knee did he tell her that she became his wife through that “awful dilemma.” He has never regretted his carelessness, but whenever Maud visits Polly, as she does sometimes, Bertie thanks his stars that he was once in a terrible fix.