The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1882-06-15
sist tyou. You won't wear any hat either,
-

; 'AnQ your JacK6bg Wner6 I1at 10
come from, pray ?"
Kathie's tears were gone, and her
brown eyes flashed like stars as she
answered, s'I intend to make myself
jacket of grandfather's coat"
Her aunt threw back her head and
laughed boisterously, as she went on
" Grandfather's old coat oh, that is
too good. What would Mrs. Montague
say to that? Kathie, child, what goose
You are
Kathie threw aside her ruf1es. and
going to the clothes-press, brought out
the old coat.
The material Is very fine, she said.
aand this riclh cid ld-fashiened fur viii
cut into nice strips for trimming. On,
] am sure that I can make handsome
jacket out of it. and I think" she added,
softly, " "grandpapa would like to have
me have it, if he knew"
"Grandpapa, indeed r. echoed Mrs.
Grayson. 81 should think yon'd have
but little respect for his memory, after
the manner he treated you in never
leaving you penny after having nursed
him and shaved for him night and day
for all those years."
4 have no doubt he intended to leave
me something" said Kathie. at know
be did; but he died so suddenly, and gut
off alternating his will until it was impos-
sible to do SO. s9
Oh, nonsensei Iwouldn't give fig
for good intentionsi He had lots Of
money-everybody knows that; it has all
gone to that scapegrace, Dugald, and
! leaving you without shilling for your
wedding dowry."
"Oharlie won't mind that" said
Kathie, her checks blooming like rose.
Won't he7 Don't tell me, child
Every one thought you would be old
Tom Rowland's heiress when you found
Mr.. Montague. Ten to one he'd never
have given you second thought but
for that. Now, that he's disappointed.
he's too much of man to back out, Of
course, but he feels it all the same.
Don't tell me, know men better than
you" ~ aa- 5aa an sar Il ssa
Kathie uttered no word In answer.
She took the old coat, and, crossing to
the window, sat down to rip it apart.
Her wedding day was drawing near, and
there was DO time to lose. Mrs. Gray
son settled herself on the lounge for an
afternoon nap; the big Maltese cat pur-
red on the rug; the canary chirped lazily
in her cage; and, without, above the
waving line of the wooded ridge, the
December sunset glowed. Y5is
Kathie began to rip the strong, closely
stitched seams, her pretty, fresh face
looking sad, but not hopeless. Aunt
Grayson's world wise talk had somewhat
hurt her from Its t1nkindness, or rather
heartlessness.
ALI her lifesshe had been such brave,
sweet little soul. Left an orphan early,
she had lived with her grandfather, and
made his last days bright. He said to
her more thar once: {" You're deal
child, Kathie; by-and-by, when you
think OF being a bride, I'll give you q
wedding dowry."
Yet, after his sudden death one mid
winter night there was no mention oi
Kathie found in the will, and everything
went to Dugald, the son of q second
marriage.
Kathie did not complain, but it cut
her to the heart to think that after all
she had been utterly forgotten. She
tried to believe that there was some mis-
take, but it was very hard to do SO.
And when Dugald sold out the old
homestead, gathered up the funds and
went off to America, she gathered up all
| the souvenirs and took care of them.
The old fur trimmed overcoat was one,
and this was distinguished from all the
rest by having card appended to it, on
which was her full name.
Then boarding at her aunt's, she
taught the village children, and saved
up her earnings for her marriage-day,
| for Charles Montague had asked her to
be his wife.
The wedding day was appointed, and
Kathie was beginning with futterine
heart to think about making her pur.
chases, when her brother George fell ILL
and worse, got into trouble. He was
rather thriftless man and had been
unfortunate; his little home was
mortgaged, and unless the debt could be
repaid the house would be sold over his
head. Kathie heard and did not hest,
| tate an instant. Her boarded earnings
went to pay the debt.
| She did not regret her generosity
sitting there in the glow of the waning
sunset she would have done the same
thing again. She did not doubt hel
handsome, high-born lovers loyalty, ye
her girls heart ached, and tears dimmee
her clear, bright eyes.
It was bad to be SO cramped for j,
little money, and ones wedding day 81
near. Her wardrobe was limited and
sadly needed replenishing. Aunt Gray
son told the truth; she would lool
shabby in the grand rooms at tn,
Oakland, in the midst of Charles statl..
sisters
The tears came faster, and PRESENT.
the sharp pearl-handled knife, wit
which she was ripping the seams, slippe
suddenly, and cut a cash across tn
breast of the coat.
Kathie gave shrek of dismay.
"There, now, I've spoiled the best {
the cloth can't get a jacket from tn
much abused old coat. What sha
do?"
Down went the bright young heac
and with her face buried in grandpapa
old coat, Kathie cried as if her heal
would break.
Mrs. Grayson sneered on the lounge
the Maltese cat purred before th
hearth, the canary twittered, and ou
above the wintry hills the sunset fire
glowed in golden glory.
her cry out, hatnle Idiseu uoI uoa'
dried her eyes, and went on with h
ripping, when something rustled undo
her hands.
"Why, what's this? Some OF gram
papa's papers r
She tore the lining loose, and ther
beneath the wadding, was a packal
done up in parchment, and tied vii
red tape, and addressed in clear har
to hersefi
Kathie drew it forth. One side W
marked: "This package belongs to n
granddaughter, Kathie."
"Why, what can it be?" cried Kathi
her fingers huttering as she tugged
the tape.
At last the knot yielded, and she u
folded the package. Folded coup
, bonds-a round dozen at least-an6
thick layer of crisp bank notes. On t
, top lay little note. She read it.
i "My dear little granddaughter, he
is your marriage dover. Two thousa
) pounds. One day, some fine fellow
none other trust-will claim you for