Northern tribune. [volume] (Cheboygan, Mich.) 1875-1885, 1882-06-17
"And your jacket? Where's that to


come from, pray?"
Kathie's tears were gone, and her
brown eyes flashed like stars as she an
swered, 81 intend to make myself jack
ct of grandfather's coat"
Her aunt threw back her head and
laughed bOisterOusly as she went on,
"Grandfa}her's old coat oh, that is to
good. What would Mrs. Montague say
to that? Kathie, child, what goose
you arew
Kathie threw aside her ruffles and,
going to the clOthes-press, brought out
the old coat. ''The material is very fine,"
she said, "and this rich, Old-fashioned
fur will cut into nice strips for trim
ming. Oh, lam sure that can make
handsome jacket out of it, and L think"
she added, softly, "grandpapa would
like me to have it, If he knew"
"Grandpapa indeed" echoed Mrs. Gray
son. 81 should think you'd have but
little respect for his memory after the
manner he treated you in never leaving
you penny after having nursed and
shaved for him as you did all those
81 have no doubt that he intended to
leave me something" said Kathie. IL
know he did; but he died so suddenly,
and put off altering his will until it was
| impossible to do So"
"Oh, nonsense! wouldn't give a fig
| for intentions! He had lots of money.
everybody knows that; 1t has all gone to
| that scapegrace, Dugald, and leaving you
without a shilling for your wedding
| dOwry.
"Charlie wont mind that" said Kathie
her cheeks blooming like rose.
wont he? Don't tell me, child!
| Every one thought you would be old Tom
| ROwlOnd's heiress when you first met 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, l
| know men better than yOu."
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 nigh and
there was no time to lose. Mrs. Gray
son settled herself on the lounge for an
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.
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 unkindness, or rather
heartlessness.
All her life she 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 than once, YOU'RE dear
child, Kathie; by-and-by, when you think
of being a bride, I'll give you wedding
dOwry."
Yet, after his sudden death one mid
winter night, there was no mention or
Kathie found in the will, and everything
went to Dugald, the son of second
marriage.
Kathie did not complain. but it cut
her to the heart to think that after all
she had been entirely forgotten. She
tried to believe there had been some
mistake, 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 attached to 1T, 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 flutterlng
to think about making her purchases.
when her brother George fell i'll: and
worse. got into trouble. He was rather
a shiftless man and had been unfOrtu-
nate; 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 hesitate an
instant. Her boarded earnings went to
pay the debt.
She did not regret her generosity sit
ting there in the glow of the waning
sunset; she would have done the same
thing again. She did not doubt her
; handsome high-born lovers loyalty, yet
her girls heart ached. and tears dimmed
her clear, bright eyes.
1t was bad to be so cranped for little
money, and ones wedding day so near
Her wardrobe was limited and sadly
, needed replenishing. Aunt Grayson
n told the truth; she would look shabby in
she grand rooms at Oaklands, in the
: midst of Charities stately sisters.
The tears came faster, and presently
! the sharp pearl handled knife, with
3 which she was ripping the seams, slip
ped suddenly, and cut cash right
, across the breast of the coat.
Kathie gave shrek Of dismay.
!, "There, now, I've spoiled the best par1
< of the cloth; can't get jacket from
the much abused old coat. What shall
J, do?
j Down went the bright young head
!, and with her face buried in grandpa
t old coat, Kathie cried as if her hear
I | xyouId hraak .Htt