GUARDY'S PEARL.
BY DAISY VENTNOR.
I NEVER was so provoked in my life—no, never! And to think that I had made such a ridiculous goose of myself before that white witch, Marguerite Vivian; and that now Guardy would have an excellent excuse for But, oh, dear! you don’t know who Guardy is. A fine mixed up affair Tam making of my story; let’s go back and begin all over again.
I, the desperately provoked individual, am Kathie Trevor, and, as I lost my parents before I was old enough to remember anything about them, I am the blissful possessor of a guardian, who rejoices in the name of Gerald King, but whom I always call “Guardy” for short, or, sometimes, when I’m very angry with him, “Lord Magnifico.” Of course, you will suppose that, like most guardians, mine is old, cross, and crabbed. I beg leave to contradict you. He is not very old, only thirty-three, and handsome as—as the Apollo Belvidere and Raphael’s cherubs combined; or, better still, he’s a thorough-bred American gentleman, and that species is difficult to surpass, with all due deference to our English cousins. Don’t imagine that I fell in love with him—thank you! I'd as soon be bewitched with the Sphinx; and, moreover, all the heart I had belonged to Charley Blake, which was the rock that Guardy and I split upon. Have patience, and I'll tell you the story.
I have the misfortune to be an heiress; yes, it is a misfortune, for poor Charley gets the credit of running after my money, when I know he’d love me just as well if I hadn’t a penny. I am only seventeen years old, and have been at boarding-school the greater part of my days, until a year ago, when I came back to New York to live with aunt Frances, and be bothered with Guardy. He returned from Europe about that time; and as he, like myself, is'an orphan, aunt invited him to come and live with us in Madison Avenue. I know she wanted to make a match between Guardy and me, an@ it puts me out of all patience when I remember how she acted. I am convinced that Guardy saw through it, and that he was only induced to remain in our domicile by my utter and extreme indifference upon the subject of his handsome self. Where both parties refuse to be coaxed into a tender passion, (isn’t that what they call it in novels?) it’s rather up hill work for the poor match-maker; so aunt gave it up in despair, and pounced upon me in no end of a rage because Charley was so devoted. We used to go skating every day, and she scolded, and finally appealed to Guardy as supreme authority to stop it. And Guardy, very good-naturedly, I admit, only said, Kathie is old enough to behave herself, and if she wants to skate with young Blake I have no earthly objection.” To which I elegantly responded that he was “a brick;” and he looked annoyed, and mounted his magnificent stilts immediately, and read me a long lecture upon the extreme vulgarity of “slang.”
But the grand climax came to pass about a month after, just before Christmas. Charley and I had been out skating all the afternoon, and we came home dreadfully cold; so I invited him to come into the library. It was only lit by the grate-fire, and I knelt down on the hearth-rug to get warm; so, of course, Charley took the opportunity to be affectionate, and having bestowed two kisses, was in the act of perpetrating a third, when out walked Guardy from the window-seat, and said in an awful voice,
«Kathie, what am I to understand from this?” I had never heard him speak so sternly, and I was too frightened to say one word; but Charley answered,
«Don’t be angry with Kathie, Mr. King. It's all my fault.”
I think Guardy rather liked his honesty, for he looked a shade less dreadful as he motioned Charley to a chair.
“The—the truth is,” said Charley, hesitating a little at his own impudence, ‘Kathie and I love each other dearly, and,” here he had the grace to blush, ‘‘and,” with a burst of candor, I haven't got a cent, you know: we Blakes are not rich, though we are good blood.” Here Charley looked proud, and I saw Guardy’s eyes twinkle.
“Well?” said he, coolly, as Charley took breath. Provoking wretch, he would not help us one bit!
“Don’t you see,” I interposed, “I mean to give Charley all my money when we get married, and then it won’t make a particle of odds who was original owner.’
