The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1879-12-18

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 this?n
: I mean it, Harry. II papa had let
me, I would have been your wife 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
wldowed-of those children, worse than
fatherless-I would die first"
The gentle eyes flashed, into the pale
cheeks III indignant glow leaped, and
the soft, tender voice rang outas he had
never heard it before.
"But this is all nonsense, Katie" he
cried impatiently; sheer nonsense!
ask your father smile crossed Ka-
ties lips" ask anybody if this money
is not fairly mine. Rose Hatton,
headstrong, obstinate schoolgirl, elopes
with scoundrel who only seeks her
fathers money, and she 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; I will seek out my cou-
sin, Rosie, and, if she leaves her beast
of a husband. I'll provide for her and
the little ones. Will that satisfy you 2"
Il knew Rose Hatton," Katie an
swers. "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 resign
ing you or my uncle's future?"
You must"
IF I resign it, I am pauper as
before, and your father will order me
from his doors. You will not disobey
your father, so in either case [ am to
lose you"
Il love you, Harry" she says with a
gasp. Il would wait"
"Thank you," he says with a short
laugh; "that is poor consolation. You
are woman, and waiting may be easy
TO you. am man and don't choose
to wait. Since [ must lose you in any
case, I'll not lose my money as well.
Good night, Miss Englehart; I wish you
very merry Christmas" .r.....
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 eyoking wondrous
music from those pearl keys. But the
face has graver beauty, the dark eyes
a 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 year ago. A great financial
crisis had come-had involved shrewd
Lawyer Englehart, and swamped him.
He had broken down under 6he 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 scrnples and whims," he had said
to her, bitterly, "you need not have
been beggar to-day. Harry Hatton
is married long ago, no Doubt, to some
wiser woman, and when I'm 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 of
st. Philips as labor OF love. Now it
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