Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1878-12-22

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strange light came into the brown eyes, a
strangely resolute expression sets the pretty,
soft-cut mouth
| SIS he coming tonight, papa?n
"You will find him, ] have not the slightest
doubt, at the house before you. It would be
old skinflnt uncle. and Harry is no hvpocrite"
| you have seen him since his uncle's
DEATH"
Certainly, Katie, and was the first to con-
graduate him. / trust you withdraw your
objections to my suit now, sir? ne says to me,
| in his naughty way. | am John Hatton's heir,
after all.'' A trife hot headed is Harry but a
! good fellow in the main--oh a very good fe!-
low! have no doubt, Katie, he will make an
excellent husband
He means to keep this fortune, then?' his
daughter says, and says it in so odd a voice
| that her father looks at her puzzled.
Keep it.! What do you mean? What
should he do but keepit? By George! should
| think he did mean to keep it! A cool hundred
thousand ifa shilling May I ask what you
mean by the question:
| Not now, papa, please. | will see Harry.
| hrst," she answered, in the same strange
voice--a very quiet voice. though it startles
/ her father.
Look here, my girl" he says stearnly, 81
know you of old-know Your higbfown,
| Quixotic notions about things in general, and
points Of honor and conscience in particular.
e..
| if you want to be Harry Hattons wife. The
lad has come fairly by his fortune; let him
! keep in peace"
| They are at the house with the last words
words harshly and menacngly spoken. They
go together into the drawing-toom and there
as Mr. Englehart has predicted, they fod
young Hatton alone A tall and proper fell
low, this Harry Hatton, with a handsome
face and eager, happy eyes.
| 'At last he cries, coming forward both
hards outstretched, lust as patience was ceas
ing to be a virtue. Thank you for bringing
her Mr. Englehart. Come to the freside,
Katie, and warm those cold little paws Has
our stately papa been telling you the good
! news"
! He draws her forward, eyes smile, all alight
with love and joy. Last night he was in de
SPAR; last night this coy room had b-en for
blden ground. Sorrow and weeping had en-
dured for the night, but joy had come with
the morning. This time yesterday he had
| been beggar and Katie had been refused him ;
| tonight he was rich man and, Katie might
| be hissfor the asking.
| And papa Englehart, after genial, father
in-]aw sort of nod, had slipped away-leaving
| them together.
why don't you speak little girl:n cries ju-
bilant Harry. Cor has the power Of speech
| been frozen within you? Wish me a merry
Chistmas, Katie, and congratulate me on my
capital fortune.
She looks up at him with eyes full of visit
ful love.
II wish you merry Christmas with all my
heart Harry; but congratulate you On what?''
why, hasn't the dear old dad been telling
you? Then wonders never will cease. Oh,
pshaW! OF course he has told you that my
uncle is deady'
"Poor old Mr.. Hatton! yes, know he is
dead"
"And all is mine, Katie, all. And next
April the old house shall have a new mistress
and Harry Hatton shall have wife. Why
don't you speak? Why don't you smile?
What is the matter with yon to night?'
itance?''
Keep it?' Harry looks at her in wonder.
"By Jove! what a question. What should 7
do with it but keep it"
Resign it to Rose Hatton-Mrs. Andrews
now-to whom it rightfully belongs"
"A most likely idea, and quite worthy of
Katie Englehart. l have had poverty and hard
work for seven and twenty years, and now
when the golden shower falls in my arms, |
am to resign it to Rose Andrews and her
drunken brute OF a husband! No, no, Katie;
IN the nineteenth century, men keep ali they
get, and ask for more"
80 perceive" she says quietly, though
she is trembling as she stands Shv draws a
ring off her finger and lays it on the table be-
fore him. 'Our engagement ends tonight,
then, Mr. Hatton. Here is your ring"
He stands gazing at her,utterly bewiidered
Katie" ne txclaims, you don't mean this
|. Il mean it, Harry. If papa had lett me, |
would have been your " lie in your poverty
oh! SO gladly-and worked for you, and with
you, with all my heart: but now-now that
you take the portion Of that woman worse
than widowed, Of those children worse than
fatherless, wonld die first"
The gentle eyes flashed, into the pale cheeks
an indignant glow leaped, and the soft, tender
as q had f,par rid baf
But this is all nonsense, Katie" he cried
lmDatently, sheer nonsense! Ask your faith
era smile crossed Katie's lips--"ask any
body If the money is not fairly mine. Rose
Halton, headstrong, obstinate school girl,
elopes with scoundrel, who only seeks her
fathers money, and she is disinherited, as she
deserved. am his sisters son, and to me
what sac resigned has fallen"
Her father forgave her before he died, and
would have made another will if another uay
had been given him"
Look here, Katie" says Hatton stu impa-
uently, u will seek out my cousin Rosie, and
II she leaves her wretch of q husband, I'll
provide for her and the little ones. VIII that
satisfy you?'
II know Rose Hatton," Katie answers.
she was proud and obstinate and would die
OF starvation sooner than accept as charity
what is hers by right"
He comes close and stands before her his
eyes flashing angrily.
Il must either choose between resigDing
you Or my uncitS fortune?
you must"
Ii resign it, am pauper as before, and
your father will order me from his doors
You VIII not dlsobHy your father, so in either
case AN to lose you"
Il love you Harry" she says with a gasp
VI would wait"
III Ink YOU" he says, with a short laugh;
that is poor consolation. You are woman,
and waiting may be easy to you. am q man
and don't choose to wait. Since l mist lose
you in any case, Pinot lose my money as we'll
G BOD night, Miss Englehart. l wish you a
very merry Christmas"
"Harrym she cries.
But he has gone gone in fine fury, bang
ing the street door after him; and it is her
father, white with passion, who stands before
her.
Twice the Christmas tide has come and
gone; twice the joyful anthem Of peace on
earth, to men good WILL" has sounded down
the stately ases OF ct. Philips, and the third
time is here. Once more it is Christmas Eve:
once more altar aud pulpit are wreathed with
evergreens; once more the voices of the
chorsters rise to the vaulted roof; once more
the slender, brown-eyed organists sits at her
post, her fingers evoking wonderous music
from those pearl white keys. But the face
has sraver beauty, the dark eyes a sadder
light than of old, aud for the silks and sables
VI other days her dress is deepest mourning.
plan OF make and poor OF texture
The last piece is sung-something grand
and old and triumphant, and Good night.
Mss Euglehart,' one and all cry, as they Aut-
ter away anu down the STAIRS. She smiles her
farewell, but fingers after they have gone, as
is her custo n; aud US herhands float over the
Keys aud her eyes rest on the music, she is
thinking OF another Christmas Eve, three
years ago, ana OF her father and lover who
stood by her side that eight.
She has lost them both-the lover then.
never TO hear OF or see since, the father one