The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1885-12-19
AUNT BETSY'S PRESENT
BY ALFRED CRAYON.

Alter making such a faVOute OF you
all your life, and having you with her
ever since you were a mere baby, she
might have sent you something worth
having on your twenty-tirst birthday,
especially as she knows how poor We
are since your fathers DEATH" said
my mother sharply.
''You had better take it as hint for
the future, and not build any more
castles on what Aunt Betsy IS likely to
do for you, = remarked my sister Lena,
Walt-r, my brother, added, with a
provoking grimaCe:
Here endeth my sister Stella's
great expectations. :"
you need not make such unpeas-
ant remarks, / answered pettishly.
an sending me the portrait OF her old
sweetheart poor auntie has given me
her greatest treasure, and she, no
doubt, thinks shall value it as much
as she does y
swell, it may come in useful, after
all, for if, a. | expect, you never get
sweet heart, you can imagine he was
yours when you are Il sour old maid
like Aunt Betsy" said Lena who
pridrd herself not little on being en-
gagged at Is, while I, at 81. had never
had an offer, nor even the ghost OF a
lover
had lived with Aunt Betsy do IN
in her quiet country home in the
south OF Cornwall until my fathers
death, two years before. when coming
up to London for his funeral found
my mother I-fr IN such straitened cir
cum-tances that felt it my duty to
stay and earn what money | could to
help her Thereby, however, | in
CURED Aunt Betsy anger.
"Surely, she wrote, "your brother
and sister can help your mother; you
have no need to leave me lonely in my
old age, after have had all the trouble
OF you a. a child, etc.
| would willingly have returned, for
a close London lodging was not at all
to my taste after my aunt's large,
airy country house, but my mother
seemed to lean on me, and so dreaded
my leaving her that | had not the
heart to 90.
Aunt Betsy neither came nor
wrote, and had quite resigned my
self to the idea that | was hOpelessiy
on her black books when the above
related event took place
Now knew that | was forgiven.
In her early youth Aunt Betsy. then
the beautiful Elizabeth Mars.on, nv
fathers only sister, had been engaged
to the son and heir OF a wealthy Lon
don banker
He had been sent abroad on bust
ness for his father lust before they
were to have been married, and.
through the Jealous treachery of an
other man who madly loved her and
wished to supplant his rival, the en-
gagemeut had been suddenly broken
off by him.
He then remained abroad, and Aunt
Betsy never heard from him again
just before he left England he had
presented her with beautiful little
miniature OF himself, set in gold and
diamonds, and this she had kept. to-
gether with her maiden name-no 9th
er lover ever induced her to change if
As girl had often seen and rever-
emily admired the pretty souvenir.
and | had taken all a girls keen inter
est IN the love story attached to it.
Aunt had always told me it was to be
mine, and now felt certain, with this
treasure in my possession, that | had
not quite lost my Old place in her fa
vor, though | heard IN the same letter
IL which she sOlemnly commended the
portrait to my care that she had
adopted an orphan girl in my place as
her companion and probable heiress
| put the letter and portrait away
with a sigh OF regret COR my old happv
home, with its quiet and freedom from
tho a " 70 and =
my portion.
Things went on from bad to worse
with US, and my twenty-second birth
day found me in despair.
Walter had gone to New Zealand.
Lena had married on a slender in
come and gone to live in the North. |
could not bend TO ask help from Aunt
Betsy, and my mother was ILL., and nv
work so scarce that | could barely
supply rs the nere-s aries Of lire.
Az last |, TOO, became I'LL. and we had
not penny IN the house; everything
We had, even poor mammals engage
ment ring, had gone for food.
stella, you must 20 and get SOM
money. Mrs. Burton says she will
have the rent to morrow or we vii
have to turn out into the street
There ls-wouli you mind. de4r2-
your Aunt Bet~y's presen Won could
get enough for that 20 Keep us for Il
long time "
Mamma, dear, cannot, dare not
sell it Anything of mine would not
withhold, but this-oh, don't ask
mel"
"And yet the generous donor has
never sent us the price of a loaf" said
my mother bitterly. well. take my
wedding ring; 1t has never been of my
hnGrr since Your poor, dear father
pnr L on twenty five years ago; but it
must 90 now
No, no, mamma, you must not.
shad not, take 1t off. | will go and
take aunt ; present, not to sell. butte
the pawnshop then may, perhaps.
get u back when Walter sends us some
money"
with heavy heart and weary
Tagging steps | departed on nv hateful
errand. All our hings had been sold:
We had preferred TO lose them to gong
INTO that last dlsgraceful refuge OF the
destltute-a London pawnhroker's
Arrived outside, paced to and fro
untll my totterlng limbs. weak from
illness and continued fasting. warned
me thar my strength would not hold
cut much longer.
entered. Only one other person.
tall, dark gentleman, whose face |
could not see in the semi-darkness.
stood there talking TO the shorman.
Il tell you, my man, the plate is
mere. It has been traced by a clever
detective. who viii Join NE here in a