Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 January 1914 — A MERCENARY AFFAIR [ARTICLE]

A MERCENARY AFFAIR

By EDITH DOANE.

When Mrs. Palmer announced the engagement of her daughter Helen to James Corey, everyone wondered why on earth Helen had not chosen a younger man. j" Until almost in the same breath, it leaked out that Mr. Palmer, who was always trading on tips and going broke on the market, had plunged once too often —had ihdeed been face to face with bankruptcy until James Corey came to his rescue. Then the world, as represented by society in Glenwood Park—proffered congratulations and smiled discreetly. Of course, if the Palmers accepted James Corey’s money, they must accept its giver, too. - - The Park was apt to assemble informally at the Country club for five o'clock tea. There was something pleasantly coxy in gathering around - the low. Chinn-laden table on the wide club house porch. But now chocolate cooled forgotten, tea boiled quietly away, while their possessors eagerly discussed this marriage of convenience in their midst. “The poor girl is deliberately sacrificing herself,” declared Mrs. Lawrence tragically waving a tea cake. “And she is so pretty,” put in little Mrs. Brooks irrelevantly. “Her youth has been bartered for gold,” said Mrs. Ellis, who had a fondness for fiction. “And he is so much older.” “Money isn’t everything.” “Perhaps even yet she may be saved ' from it,” faltered little Mrs. Brooks, hopefully. “Why save her?” briskly interrupted Mrs. Wylie, joining the group and taking the cup of fragrant tea offered herl* “Mr. Corey i§ hosprable, charitable, rich —a good man in every respect. She ought to be proud of him. I’m sure I can’t imagine what more she could want.” Five pairs of eyes confronted Mrs. Wylie in shocked surprise. “Well, I’m sure I hope she takes your view of it,” said Mrs. Lawrence gloomily. “If he only were younger. He’s as old as—as Father Abraham.” “Oh! if Mr. Palmer had not' been in such straits.” “Still, it is lovely to be able to cling to one’s faith in human nature as you do.” “I’m clinging to nothing,” said Mrs. Wylie stubbornly, “but, for my part, I think she's a veiy lucky girl.” “Oh, of course, everybody respects him.” “And he is a very rich man.” “But it is so evident that she did it to save her father.” “Besides —there is her cousin, Tom Breuster,” said Mrs. Brooks softly. Tom Breuster was an ordinary sort of a fellow—fairly good looking, fairly clever. In fact, he did not amount to much one way or the other, but he happened to Imagine himself very much in love with Helen, and when her engagement was announced burst in on his aunt with a storm of indignation. “What’s this you’ve done?” he demanded vehemently. “Why was I kept in ignorance all this time?” “I don’t understand you,” returned Mrs. Palmer coldly. “Don’t you?” he went on ruthlessly. “Then I’ll explain. You have engaged Helen to a man for whom she has not the smallest spark of affection. To save yourselves—for the sake of mere money—mere worldly position —you and her father have consented to sacrifice that poor girl, body aDd soul.” “You must be insane to talk to me like this,” returned his aunt icily. ‘There is no reason why Helen should not marry Mr. Corey—or any one else she chooses.” “Let us confine ourselves to Mr. Corey. She has no right to marry him at all events.” “No?” said she; “and why?” “Because a loveless marriage can never be right.” “But who says it isn’t a love match?" -she went on, forgetting her anger in her desire to convince him of the futility of interfering with Helen's engagement. "Mr. Corey is a charming man. Why not care for him?” ing. Yt>u are sacrificing her.” ,‘‘Ab though I could make Helen marry any one she did not wish "to,” returned Mrs. Palmer with a low laugh. “My dear hoy, if you feel like that, pray go away until you come to your senses.” “I shall not go away until I have seen Helen,” he said doggedly. “Tom, I beg you to—’’ “Why are you two glowering at each other like Kilkenny cats?” cried a fresh young voice from the doorway. “How are you. Tommy?” and Helen Palmer, slender, dark-eyed, clad all in soft shipimerlng gray, entered the room and held out her hand ip smiling greeting. Now that the moment haß arrived, words failed him. Noting his hesitation, she smiled at him’ again. "Have you come to proffer yo«r fcongratulatfons in person?” she said shyly. “No, not quite/’ he sajd. “Still, I suppose one is bound to say something about the clever bargain you have made. That you of all people should prefer money to love.” “What a perfectly horrid thing to say,” she returned indignantly. “Do you suppose because you are a mem■her of the family you are privileged ;to be as disagreeable as you like?” "I suppose loving you is being disagrees hie,” he returned moodily. Mra.

Palmer had slipped from the room and they were goth too intent to hear other footsteps that came nearer up the gravel walfe-tup the steps—and were muffled by the heavy rugs on the porch outside. .. }i “Loving me! How perfectly absurd! Why didn’t you say so before? And not come here now-4” “I came to save you from sacrificing yourself from a loveless marriage,” he returned prandlloquently. “Ob; Tommy, you are too funny,” she laughed softly. She raised her eyes-and "looked steadily into his weak, good looking face. “Tommy,”” she said gently, “you must not think that I have any feeling but real honest liking for Mr. Corey. I respect him—l care for him ”

“Of course he is a very rich man. I understand.” ,

“He is, at all events, the very best man I have • ever met,” she returned indignantly. “Of course he has been awfully good about father’s troubles, but I should have loved him just the same,” she went on with quick conviction. “He Is so good—so kind -—so just ” : —'--V 4 —4"Why don’t you say that he has money and can shower that upon you?” “I wish you to understand,”, she said coldly, “that while I appreciate Mr. Corey’s money I love him for himself.” Suddenly her mouth quivered and two large tears strolled down her cheeks. “I am so worried about all this,” she said unsteadily. “Everyone thinks I care for h'is money—will no one believe me—”

The curtains at the long open window suddenly parted. “I believe it. Do I count?” said James Corey, as he entered the room.

After all, fate sometimes consents to interfere benignly, even in a mercenary affair.