The weekly Floridian. [volume] (Tallahassee, Fla.) 1867-19??, 1883-11-06
Her aunt threw back her head and

WnaC goose you are
Kathie threw aside her ruf1es, and 60
ing to the clothes press brought out the
old coat.
The material is very fne," she said,
"and this rich, old-fashioned fur will cut
into nice strips for trimming; can make
handsome jacket out of it, and l think"
she added, softly, grandpa would like
me to have it, if he knew it.''
"Grandpapa, indeed :" echoed Mrs.
Grayson Il should think you'd have
but little respect for his memory after the
manner he treated you; never leaving
you penny after you nursed him and
slaved for him as you did"
Il think he intended to leave me
something" said Kathie 81 know he
did; but he died suddenly, and there was
some mistake"
"Oh, nonsense. wouldn't give fig
for good intentions He had lots Of
money-every body knows that; it has
all gone to that scapegrace Dugald, and
yon haven't a shilling now for your wed
ding dowry."
"Charlie won't mind that" said Kathie,
her cheeks blooming like rose.
"Won't he? Don't tell me-, child
Every one thought you would be cid
Tom Rowland's heiress when you first
met him. Ten to one he'd never have
given you a 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-"
Kathie uttered no word in answer.
She took the old coat, and crossing to
the window, sat down to rip it apart
Her wedding was drawing near, there
was no time to lose. Mrs. Grayson set
tied herself on the lounge for her after
noon nap; the big Maltese cat purred on
the rug, the canary chirped azly in the
cage, and without, above the waving line
Of the wooded ridge, the December sun
set glowed
Kathie began to rip the closely stitched
seams, her pretty fresh face looking sad
and downcast. Aunt Grayson's world
wide talk had put her out of heart
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.
"You're dear child, Kathie; by and
UN, WIcu you LLIuk VI OclHS u DIlUt, IL
give you wedding dowry.'
He had said so a dozen times, vet after
his sudden death one midwinter night
there was no mention of Kathie found in
the will, and 80 everything went to Du-
gald, the son of second marriage.
Kathie did not complain, but it cut her
to the heart to think that grandpa had
forgotten her. She tried not to believe
it; there was some mistake.
And when Dugald sold ont the old
homestead and went off to America, she
gathered up the souvenirs and took care
of them. The old fur-trimmed overcoat
was one.
Then, lodging at her aunts, she taught
the village children, and saved up her
earnings for her marriage day, for Charles
Montague loved her, and had asked her to
be his wife.
The wedding day was appointed and
Kathie was beginning, with futtering
heart, to think about making her pur-
chases, when her brother George fell i'll :;
and, worse, fell into trouble He was
rather a thriftless man and had been un-
fortunate; 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 in
stant. Her hard earnings went to pay
the debt.
She did not regret her generosity, sit
set !; she would have done the same thing
again. She did not doubt her handsome,
high-born lovers truth, yet her girls
heart ached, and tears dimmed her clear
bright eyes.
1t was bad TO be cramped for little
money, and ones wedding day 80 near.
Her wardrobe was limited. She needed
a nice seal-brown cashmere dreadfully,
and light silk or two for evening wear.
Aunt Grayson told the truth; she would
look shabby in the grand rooms at Oak
lands, in the midst of Charles stately
sisters.
The tears came faster, and presently
the little pearlhandled knife, with which
she was ripping the seams, slipped sud
denly, and cut a great cash right across
the breast of the coat.
Kathie gave shrek of dismay.
"There, now, I've spoiled the best of
the cloth, can't get my jacket out;
what snail L 90
Down went the bright young head.
and, with her face buried in grandpa's
old coat, Kathie cried as if her heart
would break.
Mrs. Grayson on the lounge, the NAL
tese cat purred before the hearth, the ca
nary twittered, and out above the wintry
hills the sunset fires burned
Her cry out, Kathie raised her head,
dried her eyes and went on with her rip
ping. Something rustled under her
bands.
"Why, what's this? Some of grand
pas papers"
She tore the lining loose, and there,
beneath the wadding, was package done
up in parchment and tied up with red
tape.
Kathie drew it forth. One side was
marked: "ThIs package belongs to my
granddaughter Kathie"
"Why, what can it be p cried Kathie,
her fingers fluttering as she tugged at the
tape.
At last the knot yielded, and she un-
folded the package. Golden coupon
bonds-a round dozen at least-and a
thick layer of crisp bank notes. On the
top a little note. She read it:
"My dear little granddaughter, here
is your marriage dowry. Ten thousand
dollars. One day some fine fellow will
claim you for his wife. You are treas
ure in yourself, but take this from old