Ten Dollars

" I am telling you the truth, sir ; you can do as you Hke," said a tall, spoctralfaced young man, with one arm in a sling, to the somewhat blusteiing conductor of a train on a railway, one stormy day in the winter of '63. A soldier!8 shabby overcoat hung loosely about his attenuated forin - a soldier's dingy cap covered the brown curls above his palé forehead. His history can bo told in a few words. Just released t'rora prÍ8on - wounded - sick- furloughed - and going homo. Government had provided him with a pass te Jícw York, but this he had been so unfortunate as too lose in Baltimore, andofcourse he had no monpy. This smart young official did not credit a word of his story, however. He had seen too many hunibugs of that kind to be taken in easily, as he confidentially told au acquaintance near by, but in a tone loud enough for the soldier to hear distinotly. llalph Moreton's cheek flushed, but he was silent. " Orders are positivo, air,'' said the man of authority " You must eithei pay your fare or we will put you off at next stopping place." "Very well, sir," returned Moretón, quietly, though an involuntary shiver j ran over his bloodless frame as he glauoed I through the window at the storm of i Winding sleet without. " Conductor," said a young girl of fourteen or fifteon, with a satchel of school books on her arm, " What is that about 'putting somebody off? " She was occupying the next seat behind Moretón, and had heard something of' the conversation between him and tho conductor. The conductor touched his cap to her defereatially.. Evidently he know who she was. " Beg your paidon, Miss Vanderwort, but here is a fellow pretending to be a ! soldier, and he saya he has lost his pass, and has no money to pay his fare. And I'm under the necesaity of putting him oft'.1' " You'r under no such necessity at all ! " said the young lady, imperiously. " How much is the fare ? " " Four dollars." The bright eyes of tho girl took in with a half-saucy, half-pitying glance the thin taco turned toward her, and thcn she took out of her pocket a dainty little gold-clasped portemunnaie, and drew forth a crisp new bank note. Leaning over, she touched Ralph Moretón, on the sboulder. " See here, Mr. Soldier ! " said she, " Papa gave ine this money to buy a lace collar. I can do with as I please. I am going to give it to you to pay your way home -and so - " " Glenwood ! " sung out the conductor, and before Moretón could utter a word of thanks the girl had gone out with the crowd. But the ten dollar bill was in his hand, and the touch of her breath yet fragrant on his cheek, The young soldier's cheek crimsoned at the thought of the child's 'frank kindness, and he would have given a great deal if he could have kept the identical note üs a souvenir, but that eaglo eyed conductor was waiting to make the change. " Really," said he, " quite an episode ! " Lucky for you, niy man, for the storm is furious. ' Moretón made no rrply. He took the change in silenoe, but his treinbling hand dropped some of it on the rloor. and in stooping to piek it up he saw a knot of piiik ribbon which had tallen from the young lady's hair. He had notieëd it atnong tho glossy braiis, and thought hor lovely was the contrast between it and the beautiful curling chestnut hair which deiied brain and net to keep it quite in place. He pounced upon the bit of ribbon eagerly, and hid it in the breast pocket of his shabby overcoat. He niight never see her bright young face again, but at all events ho had something which had been hers Thpn he pulled his cap over his face, and eunk back in his corner, aDd spoke to no one until the train rushed into the bustling depot at the end of his journey. His lady mother, and his sister Itosa were there to meet him, and he was kissed, and caressed, and pitied, and tended until he almost feit lnmself a littlo boy again, and not a bearded hero home trom tho war. And when seated by his own luxurious firoside, Ralph Moretón told the story of his destitution, and of tho little girl's generosity, both Bosa and Mrs. Moretón declared he must search the world over for her, and give her no end of lace collars. A brief furlough until his wound was well, and the Captain Mi eton rejoined his regiment. Ñot, however, without making soine inquines relative to Miss Vanderwort - inquirios which bore no fruit, and left him quite as ignorant of her whereabouts as ho had been at first. So he went baok to the army, and fought the war througb, but he always oarried that knot of pink ribbon about him, and nevpr quite gave up the hope of finding his little benefactrea. At th end of tho war Colonel Moretón returnfid to Kew York, and entored largely into business, and became a successful and prosperous importer. He was a favorite in society, and fair young belles fished perseveringly for hiin, and inanimas with daughters on their hands courted bim assiduously, but without material succosss. He was thirty-three now, and people pallad him a very cold, unimpassioned BOrt of man, and perhaps he was, tbr at thirty-three the heart of au uninarried man is genurally pretty muoh gone to seed. But Ralph Moretón kept himslf puro in heart and lite, and such a man ought to be respected in these degcnerato days. At the close of a wintry afternoon of mist anddrizzle, Ralph Moretón was putting on his fur overooat to go home trom his place of business. Some one wrapped timidly at the door of his handsome oounting-room, and a woman's soft voice asked for Mr. Dixon, the head clerk. Dixon, smilling and plausible, stepped to the dooi'. W'hatever the lady's request was, it wus proferred in a low Toice. " Well, really, Miss," said Mr. Dixon, " I am 6orry wo can do nothing for you. Very Borry ! Times dull - money hard - work scaree ! Evcrything it ruinous prices ! " '■ I have been told so a groat laany times during the paet three weeks," said the sweet, sad voice which stirred so strangely some half-forgotten memory in the breast of Ralph Moretón. " Indeed, I would not urge you, but I must have food for uiy father ! He is ill and very old and helpless." " Sorry " began Dixon ; but Ralph stopped quietly before him, and uiotioned him back tohis desk. "lam Mr. Moretón," he said kindly ; " teil me what you desire." Before she spoke he had time to observe her fully. A tall, slight figure, in mouruing ; a palé face, lighted by brown eyes framed in curling chestnut hair. ïhe face of a woman who had known uiuch sorrow ; but, after all, the face of the areless, happy sohool-girl he had met five years ago. But no flush of recognition glovved on her cheek, and lialph suffered a pang to think that she whom ho remembered so long liad forgntteu him. She stated hor business, trenibliugly. He knftw she was jut on the brink of tears, poor child ! she had been so uiany times repulsed that hope had almost failed in her breast. She would eopy papers or keep books, but she must take work home, because ot her father. Ralph unlooked his private desk ; and took out a pile of papers at raridom, nearly all of them worthless - old letters, bilis of exchauge, invoices, etc ; but he assumed the gmvost of business airs as he made them in a package and handed theiu to her, " to be curefully copied at her earliest cnveniece." And then he gave her ten dollars as her first weeks salary. How her white face hght up at sight of the money - it would do so much good tor her poor old futhcr ! She tliauked him quietly and hurried awav. " Deuce take it !" said Dixon, roundeyed with wonder, " that's a queer way to do business ! you didn't even look at hor handwriting, or ask her nauie!" Moretón smiled in a curious way, but gave his officious clerk no inforraation on the subject. The papers were all brought back, neatly oopied, in Ipss than a werk, and Moretón saw with delight that the girl's eyes were brighter and her cheeks rosier ; indeed she was quite like the little beauty with the satchel of books. Moretón was alone in the office when she came, and alter looking over the work he took a seat beside het. " Miss Vanderwort," said he " I am sorry that your memory is less faithful than mine." "Ido not anderstand you !" she said, with a slight shade of haughtiness. '" No. But I ask you to recall one storray winter's day, live yearsago; the scène a crowded ra'lway car ; the characters a self' important conductor, a forlorn, wouuded, penniless soldier, and a bright-faoed young achool-girl in a plaid dress, with pink ribbons on her hair. See, here is one of the verv knots whioh tied her brown braids," and he held up the pink ribbon to her astonishod eyes. She romembered it all then, and the contrast between the happy life she had known and the dreary present was too much ! She tried hard to restrain herself, but the effort was vain, and down went her head on the tab! o bef ore her, and she sobbed like a child. Ealph Moretón lifted her up, and smoothed back the hair front hor forehead. "My little girl," said ho, "I loved you then, I love jou now. Surely five yoars of devotion will give me an excuse for speaking. 1 do not ask any answer now, - you shall take weeks to think of it in and lueanwhile I will mako the acquaintance of your father. He walked home with her that evening, and learned the whole sad history of fallen fortune. Nothing new - only the old story of speculations, loss and ruin; afterwards Mrs. Vanderwort's death; and then her husband was stricken with partial paralysis, which unfitted hiui for any kind of labor or business. Then everything feil upon Maud's young shoulders, and raany and many a time the girl had suffered for bread. She was not to suffer for anything longer. It was a delightfully easy ta?k for her to leirn to love Ralph Moretón, and and not three nionthp after he found bis little "help in timo of ueed," he carried her home to his handsome house, liis wife.