Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1900-03-07
BY CHARLOTTE N. sRAsmH


.pair.
wonder" she said, "if ever a girl
nad to choose between her father and
her lover before?"
fes," he replied; Hundreds. As
rule. they choose the lover; but you ought
to be an exception, Doris-you ought no,
10 De OF the common run of girls. l ex-
pect more from you. l will not take your
answer yet; you must think it over. Ii
rs not for few days or months that you
nave to decide, but for life, Doris. My
dear, try to disabuse yourself of the no
non that Martin Ray is hero. He is
aothing Of the kind. He is paltry, mis-
traDie scnemer, who lives upon the hare
earnings Of the people he misleads.''
You cannot understand his aims
papa! she cried, despairingly.
Amos Hatton gave his daughter a few
days to decide upon her fate in life. She
TOOK the decision into her own hands and
married Martin Ray-but not with her
fathers consent or blessing. She stole
from the house one sunny morning never
to enter It again. She kissed her father
On the evening before and never saw his
face or heard his voice again. She mar.
ried the man whom she believed to be
hero, and reaped her reward.
There was some little surprise and con.
sternation in Harbury when 1t was
known that Doris Hatton had married
the young demagogue whose appearance
aad created a social whirlwind
Few understood the attraction that
such a man would have for a romantic.
sentimental girl. Doris thought no lot
N the world one-half SO brilliant as hers
Amos Hatton was oken-hearted
man. He had but two children, and he
loved them with the deepest possible love
His son Arthur, handsome, spirited
boy. eight years older than his sister, has
chosen the army for a profession; and
quite early In his career he had received
an excellent military appointment in In
lila, where he was rapidly accommodating
fame and fortune. Doris, his fair daugh-
Ter, was the very pride Of his heart. For
,er the old lawyer had worked and toiled,
only to see himself forsaken for a man
whom he hated and despised. His heart
was bitter and his wrath was great. He
wrote to his son in India, telling him
what had happened, and bidding him to
irive all memory of his sister from him
forever. Then Amos Hatton made an
other will, in which he left all his prop
erty to his son: and when he spoke of
Doris it was as of one dead. Everything
that had ever belonged to her-piano,
books, pictures, clothes, ornaments-was
sent after her. In the lawyers pleasant,
house in Harbury not
trace was left Of the daughter once so
beloved.
The three years that followed his mar
riage were perhaps the most brilliant OF
10 hn
alteration of his young wife stimulated
him. He positively began to believe him
self what she imagined him to be. One
morning when Amos Hatton opened his
he saw a long account of
grand political meeting in London, and
he event Of the day was the speech of
Martin Ray. He read it. Bitterness.
anger and regret filed his heart; he suf-
sered terribly. His emotion brought on
fit; and when his clerk went into the
,ffice he found him with his head on the
able. The doctor who was hastily sum-
noned said that he had been dead for an
lour.
The news of his decease was sent to In
liza. where his son Arthur grieved heart
ly for him. According to his will, every
hing that he possessed-house, furniture,
mining shares-was sold. and the money
was sent to his son.
Arthur took it, and doubled it in few
years. He thought of his little sister
Doris with something like remorse, but
made up his mind that when he returned
% England he would seek her out, and
1t least share the money with her.
So Amos Hatton was buried, and in
iue time forgotten. Doris mourned long
and deeply for him. She still believed in
her husband as a great hero and an ex
.ellent man. None of her illusions had
oeen dispelled, and her happiness had
oeen crowned by the birth of two little
laughters-beautiful children, the eldest
If whom she had named Leah, and the
,econd Hettie. She was wonderfully
lappy, this sweet Doris, who thought no
husband and no children equal to her
,wn. Cut of from all her former asso-
.iations and friends, thrown entirely on
Ter husband for society, no wonder that
Ter life narrowed and her world became
.entered in him.
/. did not take her many years to lind
,ut that her idol was of clay, to discover
hat he was no prophet, no martyr. that
le cared little for the consequences OF
lis seditious language and the fire he put
uto the hearts Of the people, provided
,nly that he made money and lived in
comfort, that his eloquence was great
natural gift which he would just as
.heerfully have turned to any other pur-
pose. that, stripped of all the ideal quail
ties she had ascribed to him. he was
simply q shrewd man Of powerful intel
ect. rather more Pgotistical and more
.elf;s sh than most Of his fellows.
Some wives live and die without either
.eainp their husbands faults or discern
np their weaknesses. 1t was not SO with
Doris. The time came when she stood
,ppalled at what she had done-when the
.iap-trap sentiments that she had once
.hought SO heroic and grand appeared to
,er in their true light. The knowledge
,rought on a severe illness, and she died,
eaving her two little daughters, Leah
md Hettie. But before she died shc
yro,e letter to her far-of brother. own
nc 70 him that her marriage had been a
anal mistake and praying him to take
.barpc of her children-to save them. 10
.escue them, II he could. from q lataI
md unwholesome atmosphere and do the
best he could for them.
He was Colonel HattOn when he rece'v-
d the letter. He placed it with his pa
,ers intending to do what she asked, and
n the whirl of his busy life FORGOT AZ
bout IL.
CHAPTER II.
No two girls ever had stranger eou,
.at;on and a more unequal life than had
ooh and Hettfe Ray. Sometimes they