The Disagreeable Woman

"I don't live there!" said the Disagreeable Woman, composedly.

"Of course not. I did not suppose you did."

"Thank you. You are right as usual."

If Miss Blagden meant to be sarcastic, nothing in her tone revealed it. She had warded off the attack dictated by curiosity.

Whether Miss Blagden was rich or not, she was always ready to contribute to any public or private cause. When Prof. Poppendorf announced that he was about to publish a book, enlarged from his lecture on "The Material and The Immaterial." Miss Blagden subscribed for two copies.

"One is for you, Dr. Fenwick!" she said, in a low tone.

"Thank you, Miss Blagden. You are very kind. Am I expected to read it?"

"If you can," she responded with a grim smile.

The other boarders were asked, but each had some excuse.

"I have just bought a new hat," said Mrs. Wyman.

"I no understand English," said the Count.

"Do you think I ought to subscribe, Miss Blagden?" asked Ruth.

"No, child. Why should you? You have a use for your money. Besides, you would not understand it. If you wish, I will buy one for you?"

"No, thank you, Miss Blagden. It would be of no use to me, but I thought the Professor would think it friendly."

She could not explain that she wished to make amends for refusing his suit, for she had with rare delicacy abstained from mentioning the learned German's uncouth courtship. Perhaps Miss Blagden, who was very observing, penetrated her motive, for she said: "There is something in that. Subscribe, and I will pay for the book."

Upon this Ruth gently told the Professor that she would take a copy.

He was surprised and delighted.

"By all means Mees Ruth, but perhaps I should give you one."

"No, no, Prof. Poppendorf. I want to show my interest in you—and your book."

"You are so good. I will give you the first copy."

"Thank you," said Ruth, shyly.

"What do you want of the old fossil's book?" asked Mrs. Wyman later, when the Professor was out of hearing. "I suspect that you are in love with the Professor."

"No, you don't suspect that," said Ruth, composedly.

"At any rate he seems struck with you."

"I suppose I am either material or immaterial," returned Ruth, laughing.

"You went to walk with him one evening."

"I am afraid you are jealous, Mrs. Wyman."

The widow laughed and the conversation ended.

CHAPTER XIX.

A SPEECH FROM THE THRONE

It was some time since Mrs. Gray had made any communication to the boarders.

But one evening she seemed laboring under suppressed excitement.

"Something is up," said Mr. Blake, the young reporter who sat on my left, the Disagreeable Woman being on my right.

"We shall have it after supper," I answered.

Mrs. Gray always waited till the last boarder had finished his meal. It was one of the unwritten laws of the boarding-house.

The last boarder on this occasion was Professor Poppendorf. He was the heartiest eater, and we usually had to wait for him. When he had taken the last sip of beer, for in consideration of his national tastes he was always supplied with a schooner of that liquid which is dear to the Teutonic heart, Mrs. Gray opened her mouth.

"My friends," she said, "I have a letter to read to you."

She opened a perfumed billet, adjusted her spectacles, and read.

"It is from Mrs. Wyman," she said, "and it is at her request that I read it."

We had already noticed that neither Mrs. Wyman nor the Count was present.

Mrs. Gray began:

"My Dear Mrs. Gray:—For three years I have been an inmate of your happy home. I have come to feel an interest in it and in all whose acquaintance I have made here. I had no thought of leaving you, but circumstances make it necessary. Let me say at once that I have consented to marry Count di Penelli. You who are familiar with his fine traits and aristocratic bearing will hardly be surprised that I have been unable to resist his ardent entreaties. I had indeed intended never to marry again, but it was because I never expected to find one who could take the place of my dear departed first husband. The Count and I leave by an early train for Philadelphia where the ceremony will be performed. We may remain there for a few days. Beyond that our plans are not arranged. We would have had a public wedding and invited our friends, but as the Count's family are in Italy and cannot be present, we thought it best to have a simple private ceremony. When we go to Italy next summer there may be another ceremony at the Penelli Castle in Southern Italy.

"I cannot tell when I shall return to New York. Probably I shall never again be an inmate of your happy home. The Count and I may take a flat up-town—a whole house would be too large for us. But I shall—we shall certainly call on our old friends, and I trust that the ties that bind us together in friendship may never weaken.

"I shall soon be the Countess di Penelli. But once more and for the last time, I subscribe myself

    "Your faithful and devoted 
    "Letitia Wyman."

We listened to the reading of the letter in silent excitement. Then there was a chorus of exclamations.

"Did you ever?" ejaculated the young woman from Macy's.

"I am not surprised," said the Disagreeable woman, calmly. "Mrs. Wyman has been courting the Count ever since he came here."

"You mean that he has been paying his attentions to her," suggested Mr. Blake, the reporter.

"No, I mean what I say."