The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1879-12-19

gagement ends tonight, then, Mr.. Hat
ton. Here is your ring"
He stands gazing at her, utterly be-
wildered.
Katie" he exclaims, "you don't
mean thisY"
l mean it, Harry. II papa had let
me, would have been your wife in
your poverty-oh, Sd 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
wldowed--of those children, worse than
fatherless-I would die first"
The gentle eye, flashed, into the pale
cheeks an indignant glow leaped, aud
the soft, tender voice rang out as he had
never heard it before.
But this is all nonsense, Katie" he
cried impatiently; sheer nonsense
ask your father"-a smile crossed Ka-
ties lips" ask anybody if this money
is not fairly mine. Rose Hatton, a
headstrong, obstinate schoolgirl, elopes
|
fathers money, and che is disinherited,
as she deserved. am his sisters son,
and to me what she resigned has
fallen"
"Her father forgave her before he
died, and would have made another
will if another day had been given
him."
Look here, Katie" says Hatton, still
impatiently; 81 will seek out my cou-
sin, Rosie, and, if she leaves her beast
of husband, I'll provide for her and
the little ones. Will that satisfy your
81 knew Rose Hatton," Katie an.
swers. "She was proud and obstinate
aud 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 resign
ing you or my uncle's future?"
"You must"
IF resign it, I am a pauper as
before, and your father will order me
from his doors. You will not disobey
your father, so in either case I am to
lose YOU"
Il love you, Harry" she says with a
gasp. II would wait"
"Thank you" he says with short
laugh; that is poor consolation. You
are woman, and waiting may be easy
10 you. am man and don't choose
to wait. Since 1 must lose you in any
case, I'll not lose my money as we'll
GOOD night, Miss Englehart; 1 wish you
a very merry Christmas"
Harry" she cries. But he is gone
gone in fine fury, banging 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 aisles of
st. Philips, and the third time is here.
Once more it is Christmas eve; once
more altar and pulpit are wreathed with
evergreens; once more the voices of
the choristers rise to the vaulted roof
once more the slender, pale faced,
brown-eyed organist sits at her post,
her white fingers evoking wondrous
music from those pearl keys. But the
face has a graver beauty, the dark eyes
sadder light than of old, and for the
silks and sables of other days her dress
is deepest mourning, plain of make and
poor of texture.
The last piece is sung something
grand and old, and triumphant; and
good night, Miss Englehart," one and
all cry, as they futter away and down
the stairs. She smiles her farewell, but
fingers after they have gone, as is her
custom; and as her hands float over the
keys, and her eyes rest on the music
she is thinking of another Christmas
eve, three years ago, and of her father
and lover who stood by her side that
night.
She has lost them both-tne lover
then, never to hear of or see since; the
father one yea ago. A great financial
crisis had come-had involved shrewd
Lawyer Englehart, and swamped him
He had broken down under the blow
and in less than three months after he
was dead and buried. He had never
forgiven Katie her refusal of Harry
Hatton; he did not forgive her even on
his death-bed
IF you had not been fool with
your scruples and whims," he had said
to her, bitterly, "you need not have
been beggar to-day. Harry Hatton
is married long ago, no do~bt, to some
wiser woman, and when Pm gone you
may earn your living as best You may
They had buried him, and Katherine
had earned her living bravely and we'll
For years she had played the organ oil
st. Philips as a labor of love. Now il
became labor of necessity. Her sal
, airy as organist and half dozen piano
pupils gave her all she needed, and life
went on, somehow, and Christmas had
come again.
She dreaded Christmas-the old pain
and struggle seemed to come back
afresh. She did not regret what she
had done. Better loneliness and pow
erty than ill-gotten gain-better lose
her lover forever than become the wife
of man capable of wronging the living
and the dead. She had lost him, but