Page:The Overland Monthly, Jan-June 1894.djvu/195

1894.] But the curious part was thet in spite of her purty face an' innercent coaxin' lookin' eyes, she hed her paw's dispersition 's perfect 's ef it had ben made to order. She did n't pear from the very fust to hev no idees beyond makin' of 'erself comf'able an' lookin' purty; an' the pesky part was thet she could n't seem to be comf'able 'ithout pesterin' of somebody else. She kep' all the other kids in a constant stew, an' 'erself lookin' all the time as innercent 's a spring lamb. Ef 'er maw 'd give 'er the baby to tend a spell 't was sure to yell bloody murder afore she hed it five minutes, an' her maw 'd hev to leave 'er work to quiet it down. They do say she used ter pinch it er somethin' jest a purpose to get shet o' tendin' of it.

She made life a burden to 'er schoolmates with 'er sly underhand meanness, fur ye see with 'er han'some face an' the lady ways she could act out when it suited 'er, she could git to be a fav'rite with ever' new teacher, an' 't would take 'em nigh the term out to find 'er out.

Ef Prov'dunce hed kep' on in the right way an' let her foller 'er paw right soon, pore Miss Sanctuary might 'a' ben livin' now, an' takin' comfort with the balance of her childern. Speakin' o' them—thar's whar hered'ty tuk another tack. The cur'ous thing 'bout hered'ty is, you can't never know whar it 'll break out next. Ever' one of them other kids was humbly 's all git out, but ther dispersitions was A Number 1, jest like their maw, Prov'dunce havin' backslid into its old track. Betty lived, an' at last worried 'er maw plum into 'er grave.

Ther wa'n't much of any prop'ty lef' when Miss Sanctuary died, fer what with the keep of a big fam'ly an' doctor's bills, an' buyin' finery fer Betty, the little 't old Sanctuary lef was nigh run through. Fine clothes Betty would have 'f the balance o' the fam'ly hed to go hungry to git 'em fer 'er. Ther wa'n't no use of her maw's refusin' 'em to 'er. She'd find some way to pester 'er tell she give in. An' when 'er maw was lyin' sick on 'er bed an' the neighbors takin' keer of 'er, an' 'lowin' ever' hour would be 'er last, Betty 'd just rig up an' go off to a dance as cool 's a cucumber.

The fust thing she did w'en 'er maw died was to go in debt fer a suit o' mournin'. She told Lize Green she got it because crepe looked awful sweet on anybody 'ith her hair an' complexion. Then she got a place to wait on table at the hotel in town, an' let the other kids scatter roun' the neighborhood wharever they could find anybody to take 'em in. She might 'a' got married right off 's soon 's er maw died, fer thar was half a dozen young fellers so moonstruck over her purty face 't they was jest dyin' to have 'er, but she tole Lize 't she wa'n't goin' to marry none but a rale gintleman with some style about 'im, an' money enough to buy 'er rale silks an' di'monds. She did n't make no bones o' telling Lize right out thet she went to the hotel to work so's't she'd hev a chance to meet up with some sich gentleman.

Well 't wa'n't long tell a consumptive fellar from Portland come up thar to spend the summer, an' boarded at the hotel; an soon it got noised about 't he was wuth a hunerd thousan' dollars ef he was a cent. An' when Betty foun' thet out she set her cap fer 'im direct. He wuz old 'nough to be 'er paw an' one foot 'n the grave, 's anybody could see; but thet just suited Betty, fer she 'lowed to ketch 'im an' git 'im to will all 'is prop'ty to her, and then the sooner he died the better. So she managed to git his table to wait on, an' she 'd take pertick'ler pains to see thet he allus hed all the chicest cuts o' meat an' all the nice tid-bits ther was to eat, an' she'd look so sweet an' sad-like in her black mournin' gownd, an' 'pear so modest an' shy an' skeered o' all the rough men, thet Goldrain—thet was the feller's