The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1902-02-21

YOU'D better CO." the old man IN
the shop went on. 81 heard Ap-Mor-
gan once, years ago, when he was a
very young man, and I'll never forget
it. You may never have such an
other opportunity"
Indeed, I should love to co. said
Hildegarde earnestly. "Are you go
ing?"
1t was a mere instinct of courtesy
that prompted the last words. She
was amazed at the result.
"No!" replied the man CURLY. All
the friendliness was gone from his
tone and manner, and the girl felt
repulsed. Only there was look in
his eyes that made her wonder
vaguely if it were possible that he too
coveted this treat and had to re-
nounce it because he could not afford
it. She was conscious of a kind of
fellow-feeling for the crabbedy man.
That was yesterday, and this morn
ing here were two invitations, her
first real-grown-up invitations, to the
concert, besides Aunt Bees tickets.
No wonder Hildegarde beamed with
pleasure. She was to hear Ap-Morgan
after all.
Then came, naturally enough, the
thought of old Mr.. Barlow, and she
beamed still more. Why should she
not give him one of Aunt Bees tick
cts, since she could not use them if
she accepted
But something brought thought
full look into her eyes. The crabbedy
man would not accept the tickets.
She knew it by intuition. There had
been kind of stern pride in that look
of his yesterday. She pondered a few
moments, with Fuckers in her fore
head. Then she caught her breath
hard.
''I'll do it," she said to herself. 81
don't want to-much-but I'll do it.
1 will"
Putting away her letters quickly
and gathering up her school books
she left the house, stopping only for
the good-by kiss to the dear invalid
in the sitting room.
She had plenty of time to stop at the
little stationer's shop on her way to
school. The old man was busting his
counter. He looked, if anything, a
| trifle more forbidding than unual, but
Hildegarde piucked up her courage.
'Mr. Barlow" she began in her
most winning way, 81 have come to
to ask a favor of YOU"
| A favor of the crabbedy man! 1t
was not easy and she found nothing
to reassure her in his cold regard. But
she went on:
"My aunt, Mrs. Hunt, has sent me
two tickets to the Ap-Morgan con-
cert. She is going away and cannot
use them herself, and she wants me
to go and enjoy the concert, if I can
get any one to take me. I could not
have afforded to buy the ticket for
myself, but now I can go, Tiff can
get some one to go with me. My
mother is an invalid, you know, and
does not go out, and I thought you
might-that maybe you wouldn't
mind-I mean that perhaps you would
be kind enough to be my escort. You
said you liked Ap-Morgan, and-and
I don't know of any one else who
would really enjoy it and hasn't al
ready arranged to go. 1t would be a
great favor, very great favor in
deed, if"
Hildegarde was out of breath, but
she saw that she had gained her end,
and the dimples came out to punctu-
ha,. cantonoa
| Little notes to Mr.. Overton and
Archie Bale explained that she could
not accept their invitations, as she
was engaged to attend the concert
with very old friend. The regrets"
were genuine, and yet the sacrifice
hard, after all, as she expected. The
old mans stately acceptance of her
invitation had somehow touched and
pleased her.
| There were a good many wonder
ing looks as Hildegarde and her es-
cort entered the concert room on
Friday night Hildegarde, more be-
witching than ever, Archie Bale
thought, in her dainty white ruffles
and ribbons, disposed by her own
clever fingers, and with her most dis
tracing dimples, held her head high,
with proud little smile on her lips
She was not ashamed of her escort.
There was dignity and grace in his
bearings, Notwithstanding his old
fashioned dress, a gentle courtliness
and Difference of manner to the pref
| ty girl at his side that would not
have done discredit to any young gen
tleman present. Mr.. Howard Overton
suddenly seemed fashy and tawdry
in comparison. No, indeed, she was
not ashamed of the crabbedv man.
Mr.. Barlow had presented himself
at Hildegarde's home early and she
had taken him into the coy sitting
room, where her mother chatted with
him in her gentle, friendly way, while
the girl put the finishing touches to
her simple toilet. He had brought
with him a cluster of pale roses from
the little back garden that no one
ever saw but the occupants of the