The New Mistress at Laurel Hill

The 20th of October came, and with a firm hand Maude Glendower
arrayed herself for the bridal, which was to take place at an early
hour.

The scar on the end of the doctor's nose had shaken her
purpose for an instant, but when she thought again of the unpaid
bills lying in her private drawer, and when, more than all, the
doctor said, "We greatly fear Maude Remington will be blind," her
resolution was fixed, and with a steady voice she took upon herself
the marriage vows.

They were to go to Laurel Hill that day, and when the doctor saw
that the handsome furniture of her rooms was still untouched, he
ventured to ask "if she had left orders to have it sent."

"Oh, I didn't tell you, did I, that my furniture was all mortgaged
to Mrs. Raymond for board and borrowed money, too; but of course you
don't care; you did not marry my furniture," and the little soft,
white hands were laid upon those of the bridegroom, while the
lustrous eyes sought his face, to witness the effect of her words.

The dent on the nose grew red a moment, and then the doctor,
perfectly intoxicated with the beauty of his bride, answered, "No,
Maude, I married you."

A rap at the door, and a note from Messrs. Barnabas Muggins & Brown
"hoped Miss Glendower would not forget to settle her bill."