The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1898-09-18

dinner they were giving that day Oh
Val my boy, I was fair n-hearted.
| l felt | was poor, desolate old creature
| with nothing to hold on to. I did think
your father was fond of me for the sake
of old times. Faith, the tears came into
my eyes and over them"
by heaven, it was infamous" cried
VAL Il am ashamed of my father His
wife has destroyed all that was good in
! him."
Il must make a long story short" re-
| sumed McShane-"give me the lemonade
my dear boy. As soon as they We're gone
in came that blessed Kitty, and she took
me old face in her hands and kissed me
| brow as II 1 was her father, and SAYS
| she, What can L do for you at all, at
| ALP
Get me out Of this" says /, Il won't
spend another night under this roof. If I
crawled out on NEE hands and knees >
| With this she thought bit, and asked me
a few questions, then she says, May is
| woefuny tired and gone to bed, will slip
| out and see what l can do for you Well
the end is she got these rooms with a
good, kind widow woman she knew, and
| brought back the widows son and a cab
and between the son and the cabman they
carried me down to the side door, while
Kitty put some of my things together
| and | was safe away before they had fin
| ished their second course; and Kitty had
me. I'm afraid she is in the height of dis
grace for what she has done. Mrs B. will
turn her outn'
Il trust no such catastrophe will hap
pen" CALCULATED Val.
IF it Does cried McShane, 'I'll adopt
her, for, though I'm poor man, I'm not
a pauper"
"Uncle." cried Val, IT, too, am not pen
niless yet, and, in case you should be tenn
porarhy hard up, have five-pound note
very much at your service"
McShane gripped his hand hard mo,
| my boy, no." he cried 81 haven't come TO
that yet. But 1 thank you. l thank God
who has shown me that life isn't all a
| bowling wilderness. I haven't forgotten
you I told you I knew a nice little heiress,
| who Is pretty much alone in the world.
You must meet"
mo, uncle, it's no use," exclaimed Val.
''the only woman in the world for me is
Kitty Graeme-she, and no other shall be
my wife. 1t is a long look out but if you
| give me the introductions and suggestions
you promised, I'll work hard to make a
home for her, and why shouldn't L sue
! ceed?"
McShane spoke long and eagerly to him
as to the ACCESSIBILITY of espousing the Can
adian heiress, but in vain; and at last the
interview was ended by the advent of an
| other visitor, a grave, wel-dressed, unmis-
, takably professional man. So Val assured
MS QuCic tI0l ne lidO every expectation OF
arranging with his brother officers for his
retirement, and hoped thus to pay at least
a portion of his debts in considerati ton of
which he yet hoped his father might con-
sent TO do the rest.
A very trying week ensued-certainly for
Kitty. She was reproached. sneered at,
threatened with expulsion from the sacred
| precincts of Alma Lodge, yet she was still
retained as their unpaid attache-too val
liable to be dismissed True, VaPs letters
We're comforting, but even these led to
| grief One day, coming in earlier than
usual. Sarah Jane pounced on letter ad-
dressed 10 Miss Graeme which lay on the
hall table. and, recognizing Vars writing,
| raised a tremendous storm.
Cruel accusations and intolerabIe inuen-
dos drove Kitty TO leave the house and
take refuge with Mrs. Dickson until she
could find employment of some humble
description, which would give her bread
| to eat.
Val knew nothing of all this, for Kitty
shrank From telling him, and, though he
had run up to see his uncle, it was be-
| fore the above catastrophe had occurred
He had begun to feele very uneasy at
! Kitty's silence, when he received the fol-
lowing missive from Uncle McShane: my
Dear Boy-Could you take a cup of tea
with poor invalid on Thursday at 5
o'clock. Your father, in spite of my pow
erty, has heard reason from my Inns and
Canadian friend,> who would like to know
some of my people. Don't fail me. Ever
yours, McShane."
This is a most extraordinary move on
my uncle's part" thought Val, as he pen
ned his acceptance. II have news for him.
too"
Thursday was fine, warm June day.
and Val found gorgeous array of cakes.
ices, strawberries and cream, with a mod
est teapot in corner to give correct
coloring to the whole
Uncle McShane, in a very fresh dress
ing gown, and generally wen-brushed-up
condition, was couversing with his pro-
fesslonal friend, and before Val had fin
ished his greetings his father arrived.
looking blander than Val had seen him for
many months. Let me introduce my le-
gal adviser, Mr.. Pounceby" said Nc
Shane, waving his hand solemnly towards
that precise-looking gentleman. 1--WE
won't begin tea just yet as my young ca
madam friend and Miss Kitty Graeme have
not yet arrived. They went shopping. I
believe, but they will not be late; and he
addressed some remarks about the stock
market to Mr. Pounceby.
''Wen, VAL said his father In a low
tone, II am glad to hear you are likeIv
soon 10 be out of your troubles In con-
sideration of such service to Won 7 am
willing TO overlook the imposition your nm
Gle has practIsed,"
Here the door opened to admit Kitty
Val had never seen her look so charming
A soft colour warmed her cheek, sweet
smile played upon her lips, and happiness
spanked in her eyes.
Come along. NEE darling" cried I'm
Gle McShane, I'VE are all dying for cup
of tea"
"Had we not better wait for the other
young lady2" said Mr.. Brooke. frowning
at the sight of the Objectionable Kitty.
who did not hear or see him, for her
hand was in Vars and his eyes were tell