The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1878-11-21
were not usually so willingly frank and

give you ticket. You can have the
ring when you bring back the money!"
he added, civilly.
Bertha came out, trying to think only
of the dear money in her hand. 1t
would buy her dear sick mother nour-
ishing food. But when she reached
i the store she found she was still crying
softly for her ring. Again she drew
down her vail. She bought a steak,
nice fresh butter, and French loaf.
She could have Rugged the bundles
with gladness and gratitude as she re-
ceived them.
darling mother, your precious life
is safer she murmured.
She ran home, coaxed the fire to
burn with couple of sticks, broiled
the steak, made some tea, and was at
the bedside of the invalid in less than
half an hour from the time she left
with an appetizing repast upon a tray.
"Oh, how nice!" exclaimed Mrs. Far
ley. "Help me sit up, dear. Did you
cook the steak, yourself? don't re-
member that Nab ever prepared any
thing so nicely. 1t is deliciousr'
And weakly, yet with evidently en-
Ijoyment, she ate and drank all that was
brought her.
Her daughter hung over her with de-
light.
Bertha, dear, think you ought not
to have discharged Nab. There are
fires to make-yOu never made q fire in
your life-and the steps to wash"
Dearest mother, l had as soon
make a fire as not; and as for the steps,
never mind. Lie down and sleep, and
then you will get strong"
And Bertha, who for three weeks
had dragged through the unaccustomed
task of making fires, cooking, washing
dishes, sweeping and nursing an inva-
lid day and mig hit, arranged the bed
clothes, lifted the tray and ran down.
stairs with a light step.
The next day she bought more beef,
and another French loaf; and then she
must needs employ woman to wash
a great basket of clothes which had ac-
cumulated during her mothers sick
ness.
Washing and ironing were arts un-
known to Bertha, even if she had the
strength.
| But the trouble was that her money
began to dwindle.
at will not hold out much longer"
said Bertha, at last. "What can I do?
| must earn some. must earn enough
to live and get me back my ring"
Still keeping her mother in ignor-
ance of their straitened circumstances,
the girl daily stole forth during the aft
ernoon nap of her invalid and went
from shop to shop Offering her services.
But business was dull; there was
more help than occupation; and though
many, pleased by her appearance,
promised to give her a chance when
times improved, she effected no engage
ment.
Weeks of desperate effort and weary
waiting went by. The day came when
poor Mrs. Farley, nursed in luxury,
and unequal to the emergency, was re-
quired to know that actual poverty had
overtaken her.
At the most meager rates, Bertha OBJ
tanned little plain sewing-enough
to buy their daily bread. Beyond this
she could accomplish nothing; and
when at last the twelve months were
up she could not pay dime. And
then the girl shed the bitterest tears of
her life.
Philip Henry had just returned from
abroad. It was summer, and the sea-
son unusually hot. He strolled along
All street, a handsome fellow to
see, certainly. But you had seen hap
pier faces, perhaps.
"A wearisOme coming hOme," he
said. looking along the familiar street.
IL who was coming home to be mar
ried."
A look of bitterness crossed the hand
some face.
How soon she forgot me! See what
woman's promise is worth!''
He was proud and resentful. Two
unanswered letters had been enough.
He thought he had whistled his faithless
lady-love down the wind, yet he would
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 dey. 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 on his light sum-
mer shoes, and stepped into a door
way. Of course, the shower would not
last long.
The rain came down in bucketfuls.
Watching it absently, it did not occur
to him at first to observe the features of
his locality. At last he saw the three
A pawnbroker's establishment some.
times holds rare curiosities, and, the
rain still falling heavily, Henry obeyed
sudden impulse, and stepped within.
The owner was fat, black-whiskered
and smelled of garlic. He was ar
ranging some rings on velvet cushion.
.'Are those rings to be sold?:' asked
Henry, carelessly.
"Oh, surely, my friend"
Suddenly the cool, blonde face flushed.
"That circlet of rubies-will YOU let
me see it?''
The man permitted.
II once owned this ring. Will you
tell me who brought it here?''
1t is not stolen, eh?'" cried the old
pawnbroker, in alarm.
"Oh. no. 1 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 very nice ring" The man
hesitated. "a young lady brought it.
She pawned it with me, but the time
has run out. put it in the window
for SALE"
1t is very nice one, as you say.
The young lady did not care for the
ring, l presumeP''
"Perhaps she did, though. She had
been crying, remember. She was in
trouble, thought. 1 often see people
in trouble, sir"
"Do you know her nameP''
Eyes. Miss Bertha Farley, No. $40
Al street."
What is the price of this ring?''
"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 establish
ment.
Half an hour later, Bertha, sad, pale
L