The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1918-08-03

You ought to remember your own
life's uncertain, and she's at an
age now when her lot may soon be
fixed in a way very different from
what It would be in her fathers
home; she may marry some low
working man, and then, whatsoever l
might do for her. couldn't make
we'll on. You're putting yourself In
the way OF her welfare; and though
I'm sorry to hurt You after what
you've done and what I've left I'M
done, feel now it's my duty to in
sist on taking care of my own
daughter. ! want to do my duty.
S.las: (Tremulously) I'll say
no more. Let it be as you will.
Speak to the child. I'll hinder
| nothing.
Mr.. Cass: Looks at Eppie with
| embarrassment Eppie, my dear,
it'll always be our wish that you
should show your love and graft
tude to one who's been father to
you so many years, and we shall
want to help you to make him COM
Portable in every way. But we hope
| you'll come to love us as we'll; and,
though l haven't been what a faith
er should ha' been to you all these
years,.I wish to do the utmost in
my power for you for the rest of my
life and provide for you as my only
child, and you'll have the best Of
mothers in my wife. ThatTl be a
blessing you haven't known since
you were old enough to know it.
Mrs. Cass: Gentle voice. My
dear, you'll be treasure to me.
We shall want for nothing when we
have our daughter.
Eppie: with a cold decision.)
Thank you ma 'am-thank you, sir,
for your offers; they're very great
and far above my wish. For l
should have no delight i life any
more If l was forced to go away
from my father and knew he was
sitting at home thinking of me
and feeling lonely. We've been
used to being happy together every
day, and | can't think O no happi-
ness without him. And he says he'd
took care of me and loved me from
the first, and I'll leave to him as
long as he lives, and nobody shall
ever come between him and me.
Silas: lin low voice.) But
you must make sure, Eppie. You
must make sure as you won't ever
be sorry because you've made your
choice to stay among poor folks,
and with poor clothes and things,
when you might ha' had everything
O. the best.
Eppie: l can never be sorry,
father. l shouldn't know what to
think on or to wish for with fine
things about me as l haven't been
used to- And 1t nd be poor work
for me to put on things and ride in
"a gig, and sit in place in church
! as nd make 'em as I'm fond Of
thinking me uniting company for
tim. What should l care for then?
| MRS. Cass looks at Mrs. Cass,
whose eyes are fixed ON the floor,
where he moves the end Of his
stick.)
Mrs. Cass (Mildly) What you
say is natural, my dear child, it's
natural you should cling to those
who've brought you up, but there's
a duty you owe to your lawful faith
er. Theirs perhaps some things to
be given up on more sides than
one. When your father opens his
home to you, think it's right you
shouldn't turn your back on it.
Eppie: Umpetuously, while
tears gather) can't feel as I've
got any father but one. I've al
ways thought or a little home
where he'd sit i the corner, and !
should fend and do everything for
him. can't think O. no other home.
l wasn't brought up to be a lady
and l can't turn my mind to it.
like the working folks and their
i, victuals and their ways. And (pas.
sionately, while the tears falD,
: promised to marry a workingman
ash live with father and help me
to take care of him.
!, Godfrey looks at Nancy with a
flushed face.)
Mr.. CaSS: I'm an undertOne. !