Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1878-10-20

have given all the wealth he had gained
In those two years abroad to have met
Bertha Farley that day face to face.
1t was hot day. Suddenly it was
sitting; then great rain cloud emptied
itself almost before the sun was OBJ
scured.
| Everybody fastened to shelter. Philip
Henry looked down at his light Summer
shoes, and stepped into doorway. Of
course, the shower would not last lonp.
The rain came down in bncketfuls
Watching it absently, it did not occur to
him at first to observe the features of his
locality. At last he saw the three gilt
balls.
pawnbroker's establishment some
times holds rare curiosities, and, the rain
stlll falling heavily, Henry obeyed a sud-
den impulse, and stepped within. The
owner was fat, -whiskered, and
smelled of garlic. He was arranging
some rings on velvet cushion.
care those lings to be sold9" asked
Henry, carelessly.
"Oh, surely, my friend.''
Suddenly the cool, blonde face flushed.
"That circlet of rubies-win you let
me see it?n
The man permitted.
II once owned this ring. Will you tell
me who brought it here?"
at is not stolen, eh2" cried the old
pawnbroker, in alarm.
ooh, no. shall not claim or take it
unless pay for it. But should like to
know who brought it here.''
Henry was trembling, though he made
an effort to conceal it.
"1t is a very nice ring" The man
hesitated. ga young lady brought it.
She pawned it with me, but the time has
run out. | put it in the window for
SALE"
at is a very nice one, as you say. The
young lady did not care for the ring,
presumed"
perhaps she did, though. She had
been crying, remember She was IN
trouble, l thought. often see people in
trouble, sir"
''Do you know her name2"
''Yes. Miss Bertha Far.ey, No. $40
Al street."
what is the price of this ring2"
"You may have it for fifty dollars. 1t
is worth twice the money, SIR
Henry did not speak again. He paid
for the ring and left the establishment.
Half an hour later, Bertha, sad, pale,
and weary, opened the door to hand
some and prosperous young gentleman
very unlike any visitor VIII had entered
her door Of late.
"Philipr'
"Bertha! Can this be you?"
Before the girls white, tired, melan-
choly countenance all his resentment
faded into thin air. Before she could
speak ne had drawn her into his arms,
and kissed her dear, thin cheek
1--WE have been very unfortunate,
Philip"
81 see. Why did you not answer my
letters from California;"
81 never received them. I have had no
word or news of you for over year"
"Nor l from you. And I had con-
luded that you had repented of your en-
gagement."
"Repented2 /? Oh, Philip, it seemed so
hard when you seemed to go, too? Papa
died, and then the property went piece
by peice-there was no one to manage
rightly. did not care that we were no
longer rich, but to suffer-"
Bertha, did you need to pawn my
ring2"
"Phllip, my mother was almost starving.
She was sick and weak, and the doctor
said she must have nourishing food. I
| had none for her. wept over my dear
ring before let it go; but there was no
other way; it was all l had that was val
liable. | did such violence to nv feel
ings to put it to such use; but was des-
perate. [ promised myself to redeem it
soon, but | have had no money SINCE"
Don't don't----my darling, look SO bro
ken-hearted! Poor BIRD how cruel the
world has been to you! Bertha, see-here
is your ring"
"Oh, Philip! how
"This blessed rain drove me into the
shop where it was. From what the pawn
broker said, gathered hope that you
were not, as had believed, Indifferent
and tickle. had such an angry, misera-
BILE heart, child, when l found it. To
think that you should barter away the
ring which had fymbolized my faith in
you 1t looked bad-did it not, Bertha9"
"Yes.n
"But he said you had been crying.
This turned my thoughts. I never saw
you cry. brave, happy little thing that
you used to be! l wondered what was
wrong: Then the shocking thought that
you might be in need came to me, and
driving here, I saw the great rich house.
Bertha, SO poor, suffering in this house."
but we cannot eat the house?: said
poor little Bertha.
"Child, il would easily sell, in these
hard times, event.
"Well," said nineteen-year old Bertha,
Chow could I sell house? And NAM
ma knows less about such things than
do"
"Poor little thing! You could have
let it for enough to live on in comfort all
your life!" laughed Philip, with tears in
his eyes, as he looked down in the pretty,
puzzled face. fortunately you did not.
We will keep it now for our home. And
the larder shall never be empty again,
Bertha!"
That blessed rain!"
The asphaltum payements, which were