THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER : : : BY MARGARET PENROSE ■/&o- ■4^/f*/- Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill http://archive.org/details/burglarsdaughterOOpenr ETHEL STEPPED ASIDE TO LISTEN. THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER OR A TRUE HEART WINS FRIENDS BY MARGARET PENROSE tflltistratrij fag FRANK T. MERRILL BOSTON DANA ESTES & COMPANY PUBLISHERS Copyright, 1899 By Jordan, Marsh & Co. Colonial press: Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. Boston, Mass., U. S. A. THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER OR A TRUE HEART WINS FRIENDS. I. " Papa wishes to see you in the study before your guests arrive," said Mrs. Weston, entering her little daughter's room. " Yes, mamma, I wonder what he is going to give me." " Run and see, love," answered her mother, smilingly. " Well, you come, too, mamma." So down-stairs they hurried to the study. " Ethel," said papa, " I have bought you the silver work-box you wanted so much, and I am sure my little daughter will make good use of its contents." 7 8 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. " Oh, thank you, papa," exclaimed Ethel, " how good you are to me ! I am so happy ! " "Come, come, now," said her mother, laugh- ing, " you will forget all about your guests in making pretty speeches to papa ; " for this was Ethel's tenth birthday, and she had invited her little friends to a party given in honor of the occasion. Everything was ready, the table spread with good things to delight the heart of every one, and Tom, the old butler, was on hand to serve the little guests with as much ceremony as he did mamma's. Ethel was dressed in a lovely new gown of white muslin, with little bows of pink falling from the waist to the bottom of the hem. Her bright golden hair was tied with ribbons of the same color, and she made a very pretty picture, as she stood waiting with mamma to receive her guests at the drawing-room door. Just then the bell rang, the guests began to arrive, and Ethel was made busy welcoming her little friends, thanking them for their good wishes and thoughtful presents. THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 9 Among these were a pair of skates, a mando- lin, a lovely gold ring, and many other beauti- ful things. Ethel was bewildered and delighted. The children played games, some played on the piano, others danced, and our little hostess, with great dignity, talked first with one, then another, seeing that all were having a social time. " Oh, Ethel, I am very glad you got the skates you wanted so much," exclaimed May Brown. " I do hope my mamma will let me have a pair." " Won't we have a good time this winter ? " chimed in Maud Fletcher, with visions of glitter- ing ice fields. " Yes," answered Ethel, " we must all learn to skate. Mamma says it's great sport, and I think we ought to form a kind of club or something." Then they all laughed, and clapped their hands. " Oh, goody, goody, fancy our having a skating club just like our mammas have their whist clubs ! " " I guess we wouldn't be big and old enough," said shy little Hattie Jones ; " anyway, we will ask Mrs. Weston and get her advice." 10 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. Here lunch was announced, Mrs. Weston play- ing a lively tune on the piano, and all the happy little ones marched into the dining-room, Ethel leading the way. She took a seat at the head of the table, where she could see that every one had a generous helping of cake, ice-cream, candy, and fruit. It was a happy hour. Suddenly loud voices were heard in Mr. Wes- ton's study, where he was busy preparing notes for his work as night editor of a newspaper. Ethel heard the voices ; they made her heart flutter. What could they mean ? " Come now," said a strange man, " it is use- less for you to make any resistance, Mr. Weston." The word " useless" startled the little girl. She wondered who could dare speak like this to papa, but she did not forget her duty to her guests, and increased her efforts to please and interest them. All the other girls were laughing and en- joying themselves. She stepped aside to listen. Presently her quick ear heard the front door close, and a carriage drive rapidly aw r ay. She THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 11 heard the servants running back and forth to her mamma's room, talking in hushed voices. What could such things mean! Was her father in trouble ? The feast being over, the little ladies returned to the drawing-room, and renewed their games, but our little hostess had somehow lost heart. So after another half-hour of merriment, the girls began to leave, declaring the party the loveliest of their lives, and wishing Ethel happi- ness in many ways. When at last Ethel found herself free, she ran to her mother's room and knocked once, twice, but without response. " Mamma darling, it's Ethel ; may I come in ? " The door opened, and Ethel saw her mother unconscious on the couch, with a maid attending her. "Hush, Miss Ethel," said the maid, "you must not make any noise to disturb your mamma. She is very ill, and the doctor is coming directly.'' A look of wonder and distress came into Ethel's face. 12 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. " What made my mamma ill, Kate, and where is papa ? " she asked, hurriedly. " Your papa went away with two men, and your mamma fainted," the girl tried to explain. Her mother moved. " Oh, come quick, Kate, mother is opening her eyes. Speak, mamma, do you know me ? " " Yes, darling, I know you," said mamma, feebly, " but you must leave me now, and go to bed early to-night. To-morrow, when I feel better, I will talk with you." " But where is papa gone ? " asked Ethel, still wondering how all this trouble came. " I cannot tell you to-night, Ethel, so now you may kiss me and come to me early to-mor- row morning. This is the only way you can help me now, dear, I am ill." What a sad ending to such a delightful birth- day ! Her thoughts ran over the events of the party, — the hours of happiness ending with grief. She prayed earnestly, with all the inno- cence of childhood, that everything might end well, and in the peace that came with this simple trust, she fell asleep. THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 13 Early next morning she arose, dressed hur- riedly, trying all the time to overcome a feeling of sadness, that forced itself upon her, when she recalled what had happened last evening. She crushed down her fears, and ran to her mother's room. A white face met her there. " Good-morning, mamma," she said, pleas- antly, " I hope you are well this morning." Her mother held out her arms to her. " Yes, thank you, love, I feel much better than I did last evening, and now my little girl shall sit with me and we will have a good long talk together. " In the first place," began Mrs. Weston, "you must show me you have courage, for what I am going to tell you will be as great a shock to you as it is to me. I will tell you all, for we must fight the battle of life together now, and learn to comfort each other. You may be all that is left to me." The words trembled. Ethel had never heard her mother speak in such a tone before. Ethel's blue eyes were fastened on her mother's face, and Mrs. Weston's heart failed 14 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. her for a moment, as she realized how this young life must be darkened. Yet, much as it pained her to make the revelation, she thought that her daughter had better learn the truth from her than from a stranger. So she nerved herself to explain the mystery of the past evening. " I always supposed," resumed the mother, " that your papa owned a large interest in the newspaper for which he chose to be night editor, and that he was a rich man. We had every- thing we wanted, and as I did not Concern myself with money matters, I never asked him where all of our valuable diamonds and other presents came from. I believed that they were honestly earned ; but everything was made plain last night, although what has happened is almost too terrible to believe." She was unable to speak for a time, but she continued : " It seems that many of the nights, when your papa was supposed to be at his office, he was stealing into the homes of wealthy people, taking their money and any valuables that he could THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 15 turn into money. In fact, clear, he is — I am ashamed to tell you — a burglar." The child did not appear to fully understand the disgrace of the situation, and was silent, so Mrs. Weston resumed : "Although this is a very great fault" — she was about to say " crime," — " yet I cannot wish you to dislike papa, nor to lose hope for him, for certainly he was kind to you and me. Let us rather believe he must have been strongly tempted in some way, and let us never give up hoping that he may sometime become an honest man." They sat together, very still. Ethel began to cry, but as she saw the tears come in mamma's eyes, she wiped her own, and said, resolutely : " I shall always love my papa, and I will never believe he is a very bad man. Some- thing may have led him astray. But, oh ! mamma, do you suppose he could have taken my silver work-box from anybody's house ? I never could keep it if I thought that." " No, dear, you need have no doubt about the box, for I was with papa when he bought that 16 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. at Hill's. So cheer up and be as strong as you can, for I must tell you something more. I had hoped last night there might be some mistake when he was accused, but I see by the morning papers that papa has confessed his wrong-doing. Now, we must sell everything in this house to pay his debts, so that it will be easier for him. Do you understand, dearie ?" Ethel saw poverty before them ; she saw that they must become like other poor people, but her heart should be true. " Yes, mamma, please go on ; I can bear what you can bear." " We must move into some inexpensive place, where we will furnish a room or two, as cheaply as we can. So you see, Ethel, you must be brave to help me." The little girl's face showed a sudden resolu- tion. " Of course I want to help you, mamma ; but who will buy all of our things ? " " I have sent for a man who will attend to that. We will now have breakfast, and then I will go with you to school, to inform your teacher you will not come any more." THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 17 This was a hard hour. Life indeed had changed from the day before. " Very well, mamma," said Ethel, but her school was very dear to her, and she felt heart- broken at the thought of leaving it. Excusing herself, she ran to her room and gave way to bitter tears. " Now," she said to herself, " I must take papa's place, and help mamma ; so surely I must not let her see my sorrow at part- ing with my teacher and schoolmates." She returned to the dining-room, making a good attempt at cheerfulness. She was facing a new world now. She had never felt the need of courage before. " I have ordered the carriage for the last time, dear," remarked mamma after breakfast. They were soon ready for their sad drive to the schoolhouse. "To Miss Hall's school, John," said Mrs. Weston, and a pang shot through her heart as she thought of the first humiliating interview, because their disgrace was now publicly known. The streets were filled with excited voices. " Morning papers," shouted a newsboy, " all 18 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. about the capture of Weston, the gentleman burglar." A like cry was heard from other street-corners. The coachman looked back. The blood mounted to the faces of mother and daughter, and Mrs. Weston thought if Ethel could only be spared this her own heart would have been stronger. Her child's father's name a byword on the street ! " Listen, mamma," said Ethel, " can they mean my papa ? " That was a moment the child could never forget. " We will not stop to listen now. See — here is the schoolhouse." With heavy heart Ethel walked up the old familiar steps with her mother to her own class room, and knocked gently on the door. The resolute look came back to her face. " Mamma," she said, " to show you my cour- age, I myself will tell Miss Hall I am going to leave." The door opened. " Good-morning, Ethel," said Miss Hall, coldly, " you are very late this THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 19 "What made Miss Hall speak in such a strange voice ? " thought Ethel. The girls, too, why did they not notice her instead of keeping their eyes so intently on their books, or glancing at her shyly ? "I have come to tell you, Miss Hall," re- plied Ethel in a clear voice, " that I shall not be able to attend school any more." Her poor little heart beat heavily, and a great lump came into her throat. She seemed chok- ing. " Indeed," said Miss Hall, " of course we are very sorry, but under the circumstances you are acting for the best. You both have our sympa- thy." The words were kind, but there was cold sympathy in the tone. Ethel's face flushed, but Mrs. Weston paid Miss Hall the small amount of tuition due, and they went out in silence. They felt that the world's heart was withdrawn from them. " Just think," said Ethel, as they were seated in the carriage, " not one of the girls smiled, or recognized me, and how distant Miss Hall was. 20 THE, BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. We have done nothing wrong, mamma. I would pity another little girl like me. Is all the world like that?" " Never mind, darling," replied her mother, ** you are very young to have such a bitter les- son. When trouble comes, some friends avoid us, but not all. There are true hearts in the world. Real friends should always be true to those in trouble, and I am sure your school- mates will be sorry they did not give you a friendly nod." When they arrived home, they found there^a strange man, who had been through all the rooms, and who asked Mrs. Weston many ques- tions. " Everything will be taken away in three days, madam," he said. " Hello, little girl," to Ethel, pinching her cheek with his rough fingers. " I am not a baby, sir," retorted Ethel, sharply, in a tone of self-respect, at which the man laughed rather sheepishly, and left the house. The incident would not have occurred the day before. Mrs. Weston called together the servants and THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 21 explained that they could be kept no longer, and they went away very sadly, seeking employ- ment elsewhere. The poor pity the poor, and they pitied the helpless wife. After everything was sold, except a few keep- sakes which Mrs. Weston had before her mar- riage, and Ethel's precious work-box, and the debts had been paid, Ethel and her mother went out looking for inexpensive lodgings. They tried door after door, wherever they saw the sign " Rooms to Let," only to hear the rent was too high, and to have people stare and wonder at their refined manners. Indeed, the. shrewd landladies often made the price of their rooms a little higher than usual on account of the appearance of the applicants. It was indeed a changing world that the two faced now. II. In the afternoon of their second day of room- hunting their attention was attracted by a little boy crying pitifully. The case of sorrow touched Mrs. Weston's heart. " What is the matter, little boy ? " she asked. " I run'd away and now I tan't find my mamma/' cried the poor little fellow. " Where do you live, dear ? " " At 29 D Street," stammered the boy. " Why, that is just around the corner," said Mrs. Weston. " Come with us, and we will take you home to your mamma." The boy's face cleared, and he was prattling happily when they reached his home. A neat-looking German woman appeared at the door. " Is this your little boy ? " asked Mrs. Weston. But the little fellow ran in, the moment the door opened, so his mamma 22 "what's the matter little boy?" she asked. THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 23 thanked them and declared " dat leetle poy vas alvays running avay." This was an odd incident, but was not without result. " By the way," said Mrs. Weston, " do you know where we can get a room around here ? " " Why, I haff got von myself to let," she replied. They were shown into the house, and liked the room, which was within their means, and the next day found them comfortably settled, — but how unlike was all this new life to their old home ! For the first week everything went well. But one morning Mrs. Weston awoke with a severe headache, and she had to keep her bed all day. Ethel's opportunity came now. She showed herself a real little woman. She took as it were ten years upon her life. She waited upon her mother, bathing her temples, made tea, and insisted that mamma should drink it. She read aloud to her patient until the latter fell asleep. But the next morning mamma was worse, 24 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. and Ethel knew she must go for a doctor. She wondered if the price for the doctor could be spared out of their hoard. She was facing new heartaches every hour. A doctor she must have, so she asked Mrs. Heintz to direct her to a good man. She was dealing with new people now. " Yell/' said the good woman, " you go down to the corner, and turn to de lef, and dere you find Doctor Clifford. He vas very good doctor." Ethel hurried off to the doctor's office, and rang the bell several times. How slowly the door seemed to open ! A servant stood there. " Please, ma'am, I want Doctor Clifford, my mamma is very ill." " The doctor has been out all night, miss, and is just going to lie down to rest," said the maid. " Oh, I must see him, — just think of my poor sick mamma ! " exclaimed Ethel. The maid was about to send the child away, when the doctor passed through the hall, and Ethel, catching a glimpse of him, rushed past the girl. THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 25 " Oh, please, Doctor Clifford/' she pleaded, " will you come to see my sick mamma ? It's only a little way, and she is very ill." Accident sometimes directs us to true friends in the time of trouble. It was so now. « Why, I am sure I can't refuse you, dear," said the kind-hearted man, gazing at the little girl in trouble. Putting on his hat, he took the child by the hand, and together they started for the sick woman's bedside. On the way the doctor asked many questions, as he felt the little hand in his own, and learned a good deal about the misfortunes of Mrs. Weston, and his heart was filled with ad- miration for the sweet little maid, whose only thought was, How could she help her mother ? " Where is your father, my little girl ? " asked the doctor. " He is in trouble, sir, but mamma is not to blame." " I pity folks in trouble," said the doctor. " Are there many little girls in trouble ? " asked the child. 26 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. u Yes, yes, the world is fall of trouble, little girl." The doctor felt the child's hand quiver, and that sympathetic quiver went to his heart. He tightened the grasp on her hand. " I will do all I can for you, little one, I will be your friend." There are moments in which these words are the sweetest in life. Young as she was, Ethel felt their force, and had gained new courage by the time they reached the house. Ethel went in first, and after a moment turned to the doctor and said, " Mamma has fallen asleep, sir, so will you please sit down, and wait until she wakes up ? " The words went to his heart. He smiled at the remark, for Ethel had not the least idea of the value of his time, but he became very sober when he felt his patient's pulse. " Have you any one to help you take care of your mamma ? " he asked. " No, sir, nobody but Mrs. Heintz, who is always busy, but little Freddie helps me some- times. Would you like him now ? " " No," said the doctor, " I don't think we will "I WILL BE YOUR FRIEND. THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 27 want Freddie, — in fact, I must tell you, your mamma is very sick indeed. She has had a severe shock, and you will want some one who will know when to give her the medicine. She must be very quiet and — " " Oh, sir, I can take care of my own mamma, and I will do everything you tell me. Mrs. Heintz will stay here while I go -for the medi- cine, and I don't want anybody else, because," she declared, becoming very red in the face, " I am afraid we haven't money enough to give any one for staying with mamma." "Well, I will try you until I come again," said the doctor. " You must get this prescrip- tion filled, and give it as directed." He trudged along home thinking of this beautiful child, and promising himself to return later in the day. When the doctor had gone Ethel went to the little box mamma kept their money in, and — could this be ? — it was empty ! What should she do to get the medicine ? She must ask the druggist to give it to her, and pay him when her mamma got well. Call- 28 THE BURGLAR' S DAUGHTER. ing Mrs. Heintz to stay with her mother, she ran to the store. " Please, sir, my mamma is so sick she can't talk, and I don't know where our money is, but if you will give me this medicine I will pay you when she gets better." "Very sorry, but I can't do it," replied the clerk, " my orders are i no money, no medicine.' ' Poor Ethel was mortified, but replied, bravely, " Indeed, sir, my mamma has the money to pay yon, but I don't know where it is." " That don't help the matter," returned the clerk, " the boss don't allow me to trust strangers." III. The little girl ran home and told Mrs. Heintz all about the refusal. " Veil, dat's all right — I gif you some money — if you vas sure your mamma has it some- vere," she said. Ethel did not like the way the offer was made, so she suggested Mrs. Heintz take a ring she had admired in return for the money. So this first sacrifice of one of her treasures being agreed upon, Ethel ran again to the drug- store, and this time obtained the precious medi- cine which would make her mamma quite well. She had faced her first moneyless hour. When she returned home, she found the doc- tor there, and her mamma seemed to be awake. She ran toward the couch, but the doctor raised his hand — " Quietly, dear, you must not excite her and do not talk to her at all. You may hold her 29 30 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. hand if you wish, and when she is better I will tell her what a little jewel she has for a daughter." Ethel's face flushed. Her heart glowed. She recalled his words, " I will be your friend." After leaving directions the doctor left her with a hearty " Good-night, little one ; God bless you." Mrs. Weston was paralyzed. Her anxiety had taken the life from her nerves. As she slowly came to herself, her one comfort was to feel the little hand in her own. Many long weeks passed before she was able to sit up in a chair, and even then she was very feeble, and her mind seemed to be in a dazed condition. By this time all the money which Ethel had received for her little treasures was gone, and she was discouraged. She must ask help. Doc- tor Clifford continued to call every day, often bringing fruit or other delicacies. One morning he came a little earlier than usual and found Mrs. Weston crying pitifully. Ethel had gone from home. I THINK I CAN SELL THE PIECE OF JEWELRY FOE YOU," ANSWERED THE DOCTOR. THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 31 He tried to be cheerful. " Well, well," he said, " what is the matter this beautiful morn- ing, I do not remember prescribing crying, did I?" " I did not expect you so early," replied Mrs. Weston, "but I want to take this opportunity to thank you for your great kindness to us. I must own we are at the end of our resources except a few sacred things. I am going to ask you to dispose of a valuable locket for me for whatever you can get for it. I am sorry to trouble you, but I have no one else to whom to go and I am very anxious to pay our rent and your own bill, too. Everything seems going from me." " I think I can sell the piece of jewelry for you," answered the doctor, "but as for my own pay, please don't mention that until I send my bill. "I promised the little one I would be her friend. Friendship means much to me," he con- tinued. " Do you think you would like to do a little plain sewing ? My wife belongs to a soci- ety that does sewing for poor children, and she 32 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. has more than she can do. It would bring you some money, and I am sure you would feel better if your mind was occupied." " That is very kind of you, sir," replied Mrs. Weston. " I would like to try it, and Ethel will go for the work to-clay, if you wish." " Very well, I will now visit my friend, the jeweller. Who knows but I may have lots of wealth for you when I come again." Mrs. Weston awaited Ethel's return. "I have good news for you, dear," she an- nounced, when Ethel came in. " I am going to do some sewing for Doctor Clifford's wife." " You do sewing, mamma ! No, indeed, you are not able, and I don't know how, or I would do it, but I have another idea, I am going to try to get work in a store." "Ethel," said her mother, severely, "you are too young to work, in the first place, and I shall never give my consent to it, so please drive that notion out of your head." Ethel said no more, but did not promise not to think about it. Meantime Doctor Clifford went straight to Hill's jewelry store and asked THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 33 Mr. Hill if he would buy the locket, saying it belonged to a poor woman. " It is a very fine locket," said Mr. Hill, " but how came a poor woman to own such a fine article?" The doctor related the whole story to him, especially dwelling on the brave efforts of the sweet little girl who was striving to help her mother. " Yes, I will buy it," said the jeweller, naming a liberal price, "and, by the way," he added, " if there is occasion to sell anything else, send this child to me personally. I would like to see her and talk with her." " Very well," replied the doctor, taking his departure. One touch of kindness leads to another. That evening mamma and Ethel were sitting alone with the light turned low to save the oil. Both hearts were sad, and each was hoping the other did not realize that they were gradu- ally coming to want. "Mamma, dear," said Ethel, "please take some of the gruel, and you will feel better." 34 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. " Well, let's divide it, and then perhaps we will both feel brighter," replied mamma. Then they talked of the past. Tap — tap — at the door. It was a familiar sound. "Come in, doctor," cried Ethel, "I knew it was your knock." " Good evening," said the doctor, "I have been very successful in my commission," and he placed in Mrs. Weston's hand the money, which just then seemed quite a fortune. " How can we ever thank you for your kind- ness to us ?" she faltered, brokenly. " Just by not speaking about it," replied the doctor, " and I am requested to say that if you want to dispose of anything more, you can send little Ethel to Mr. Hill, of Hill & Co." "Why, mamma!" exclaimed Ethel, "that's where you said papa bought my little silver work-box." IV. Before many months had passed their money had almost all melted away for medicine and rent. The invalid had failed so rapidly that she was now too weak to take interest in anything. The care was indeed very heavy for Ethel. Life darkened. They felt they would soon be thrown on the world. One morning, leaving her mamma in care of good Mrs. Heintz, Ethel took her little gold watch and went into the street, intending to ask Mr. Hill to buy it. She was very sad to think of parting with her watch, and so she decided at least to try to get some kind of work before going to Mr. Hill. She tried to get work in several stores, but, although every one was polite to her, she soon learned she was too small for such service, and without experience, and no one had time to show her how to do anything useful. 35 36 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. She was wandering about, discouraged and bewildered, through one of the large stores, when her attention was attracted by some beau- tiful silks, and she stopped to admire them. While standing there she heard one clerk say to another, " Did you read about Weston, the gentleman burglar ? " " Yes," was the reply, " he got two years in the State prison. He was a cool one." So her father had had his trial after long delays. Ethel turned quickly away, and an impulse seized her to go to see her papa in prison. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was for him, and how she would always love him. The only prison she knew was a police station, so there she hurried as fast as she could. Her heart fluttered as she climbed the steps, but she walked boldly in and stood before the captain who sat at his desk. There had come to her heart a longing to rebuild her home again. Few impulses are more noble than the heart of a child seeking WELL, -LITTLE ONE, WHAT CAN WE DO FOR YOU THE BURGLAR S DAUGHTER. 37 to rekindle the fire upon the old hearthstone. She felt that she had gained much, when she had led the doctor to say, " I will be your friend." She might find other friends. True hearts gain friends, and to be true-hearted, under all circumstances, is the noblest thing in life. " Well, little one," said the officer, pleasantly, " what can we do for you to-day ? " " Please, Mr. Officer, I came to see my papa. I have just heard he has been sent here for two years, but if you will let him out sooner, I know he won't break into any more houses." " So your papa is a burglar, is he ? " answered the captain, whose sympathy was enlisted by the child's innocence. "What is his name?" " His name is Henry Weston, sir. He was always good to mamma and me, and I know he would like to see me." " Well, little girl, your papa is in prison, and this is only a police station." " I didn't think there was any difference," said Ethel ; " but perhaps you will tell me where the prison is." 38 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. " It is a very long way from here," he replied, " and you could not get in to-day, so I think you had better go home to your mother now. You have a mamma, haven't you?" " Yes, sir ; she is very sick, and I am afraid I have been away from her too long, so good-bye, sir." Ethel went quickly home, and found her mother very much worse. Mrs. Heintz was excited, but she made Ethel have some dinner, and then sent her for the doctor. When he came he shook his head. Little Ethel stayed beside her mother all night. Falling asleep toward morning, she dreamed they were all back in their own dear home once more. She was awakened by Mrs. Heintz speaking to her mamma. " Och, dear lady, I am afraid you vas going to die." "Hush," replied Mrs. Weston, "don't let my poor Ethel hear that." Ethel, with a beating heart, ran to her mamma. THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 39 u Mamma dear, do you feel better ? " she asked. " Yes, love," answered the suffering woman, faintly. The doctor had left another prescription to be filled, and Ethel, who now realized that she would need all the money she could get, deter- mined to take both her watch and precious work- box to Mr. Hill, calling at the druggist's on her way home. She walked quickly down to Hill & Co.'s, and asked a clerk to direct her to Mr. Hill's private office. " He is very busy, miss," said the clerk. "■ Is there anything I can do for you ? " " I can only tell my business to Mr. Hill, but if he is busy now, I shall wait," and she took a seat near the office door. Pretty soon a man came out and left the door open, and Ethel, seeing Mr. Hill at his desk, walked quietly in. The merchant met her with lifted brow ; he saw a little woman in the girl. " What have you to say, little one ? " said he, kindly. 40 THE BURGLAR' S DAUGHTER. " My name is Ethel Weston, and I want to sell — Doctor Clifford said I might come to you," she stammered. " Oh, you are the little lady Doctor Clifford told me about ; I am very glad to see you. Have you something to show me ? " " Yes, sir," said Ethel, gaining courage. " Mamma is much worse, and we must have some money, so I have brought my watch and the work-box papa gave me the last time I saw him," and she thought of her last birthday party, and longed for the light of home again. "Well," said Mr. Hill, much pleased at this frank recital, " I'll tell you how we will Hx this business ; I'll give you whatever money you need, and keep your watch and box until you are ready to claim them." Ethel was overjoyed at this plan, Avhich sometime would give her treasures back to her, so she thanked him, and the exchange was made. After calling at the drug-store she hurried home, if their room could so be called. The next morning Doctor Clifford called, and THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 41 was urging Ethel to lie down to rest, when there was a knock at the door and Mr. Hill, the mer- chant, appeared. "Why, Mr. Hill, how kind of you!" ex- claimed Ethel, but in her heart she wondered if he regretted giving her so much for her cherished treasures. " I just thought I would call to see this little friend of mine," and aside to the doctor he said, " Is the mother dangerously ill ? " Yes, she is a very sick woman," answered the doctor. " Well, can anything be done for her ? Do you think if she were to have the proper atten- tion, — say — if she were sent to the hospital for awhile, would there be some chance then ? I told the little girl I would be her friend. Her true heart wins me." " Yes, but I am afraid the mother will never consent to leave her little girl alone while she lives ; however, I will mention it to her this evening if she is able to listen." "Do so," said Mr. Hill. "I have taken a great liking for this child, and she may stay 42 THE BUBGLAB'S DAUGHTER. with Mrs. Hill until her mother becomes quite strong again." Just then Ethel joined them, and her kind friend talked with her very pleasantly, and when he left the house he sent her a big basket of nice things from the nearest provision store. That evening Doctor Clifford sat beside the patient, and told her that her only hope of recovery was to go away to a hospital for awhile, where, he said, " you will get the right kind of treatment." He added, " Now, Mr. Hill has a private room which you may occupy, and he wants Ethel to come right to his own home until you are better. This is the only thing for you to do, if you want to get strong for your child's sake." Mrs. Weston was very sorry to be taken away from her darling little girl, but she was helpless, and answered, " I am very grateful to you and Mr. Hill. Make any arrangements you wish." " That is the right spirit," said the doctor, well satisfied, " and we won't mention it to Ethel to-night, but to-morrow morning at THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 43 ten o'clock we will have the carriage at the door." On leaving the house, he told Mrs. Heintz of the proposed change, and asked her to have everything ready. " Och, doctor, you vas very kind, and Mr. Hill, too. Gott vill bless you to help the poor lady. I vill take care mit the leetle girl myself ." " We will see about that later, Mrs. Heintz," he answered. The next morning was clear and fine, but Ethel awoke with a feeling of depression she could not account for. She dressed hurriedly and asked her mother, who had been wakeful, " Mamma dear, are you feeling better ? " " Yes, Ethel, but I wish to speak to you." Mrs. Weston spoke feebly. " The doctor thinks I had better go away for a little while to the hospital. You must be brave, dear, for my sake, perhaps I may come back all well. You are going to Mr. and Mrs. Hill's, and I am sure you will be a good little girl, and Mrs. Hill will take you to see me sometimes." 44 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. There was a failing heart under these plain words. Mrs. Weston sank back on her pillow, ex- hausted. Little Ethel sat sobbing as if her heart would break. The door opened softly, and Mr. and Mrs. Hill and the doctor entered. " Are we all ready ? " asked the doctor, pleasantly. Mrs. Hill walked over to the couch, and laid her hand on the sick woman's forehead, and said, " Dear Mrs. Weston, you need not worry for Ethel, she shall have everything her loving little heart can wish for, and we will go to see you just as often as the doctor allows." " Thank you, you are indeed a very kind friend to take this interest in us. I hope my little girl will do everything to please you." Meantime, Doctor Clifford had taken the pillows down to the carriage, and Ethel kissed her mamma good-bye, trying hard to keep from crying aloud, as the wasted form was borne out the door. Mr. Hill, Mrs. Weston, and the doctor drove away to the hospital, and Mrs. Hill put her THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 45 arms around the lonely child, and said, " Now, Ethel, the best way to help your mamma is to be just as happy as possible. You run and get your things and come with me to your new home." When Ethel had spoken to Mrs. Heintz and Freddie, she said, " Now, dear Mrs. Hill, I am all ready." She would never forget Mrs. Heintz, who had offered her a home. So they drove to Mrs. Hill's beautiful home, and Ethel's heart was full of gratitude for her dear friends. " I am going to let you sleep in my prettiest guest-chamber to-night," said Mrs. Hill, " and in a few days you shall have your own little room." The next day Mrs. Hill took Ethel for a long drive, and when they returned Mr. Hill met them at the door, beaming with smiles. " Come, Ethel," he said, " I have a surprise for you," and they hurried up-stairs. A beautiful room met the little girl's eyes. " Oh, my ! " exclaimed Ethel, " isn't this the loveliest room I ever saw, all blue and white, 46 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. and this is my dear mamma's rocking-chair ! How did you get it? Oh, how good you are to me, and here is my little silver work-box ! I can never, never thank you enough." Then she thought of the prison and the hospital. Ethel was very happy in her new home, where every one came to love her dearly, but she was just as sensible and thoughtful as ever. She had one wish, and that was to reunite her old home. She returned to her studies, at a different school, and tried hard to make up for her lost year, and but for the absence of dear mamma, and the thought she might never see her papa again, she had nothing left to wish for. But no home is like one's own home. v: , JUST OUTSIDE THE PRISON WALLS. V. It is a cold, dreary day, the snow is falling fast, and just outside the prison walls stands a man who once had a happy home and was respected by all. His hair and beard are now unkempt, and although he is not old they are sprinkled with gray ; his clothes are coarse and ill-fitting, and he wears an old slouch hat, pulled down over his eyes. For two years he has looked forward to the day when he would be free. Now the day has come, yet he feels careless and discouraged. He wonders where he shall find his wife and child, of whom he was so fond. " Will they be glad to see me, a felon from prison, who has disgraced them ? " he asked himself. " Of course not, — if so, they would have come to see me in two years. I will see them, if only for once," he mused, "I must 47 48 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. see them." He walked about, feeling the utter loneliness of life. Toward evening he walked slowly down to the railroad station to take a train for his old home. At the station he saw the people hurrying to and fro, rushing home to loved ones, which seemed to emphasize his own loneliness. He bought a ticket with money given him by the prison officials and when the train came took a seat in a dark corner, to avoid recognition. Arriving at the old familiar station, he got off, and as he had no money left with which to take a car he walked to the place he once called home. The house looked dark and deserted. He mounted the steps and rang the bell, once, twice, but there was no response. Being con- vinced that the house was unoccupied, he forced open a window, and, benumbed with cold and hunger, entered the deserted rooms and fell asleep on the floor. In the morning, thinking no one would recog- nize him, in his changed appearance, he went THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 49 out into the street. He made inquiries for his wife and child. None knew whither they had gone. Servants in the neighboring houses gave him food, but could not give him any information about his loved ones. He tried to get work, but every one eyed him suspiciously, and turned him away, often with a harsh word. He looked what he was, and the world read his secret history. In the evening he met Mr. Hill, who was on his way home. The two had been friends years before, but Weston felt confident that he would not be recognized, so he resolved to ask him for help first, and if possible learn something of his wife and child. " I beg pardon, sir, will you help a poor man to find a night's lodging ? " he said. Mr. Hill was busy with his own thoughts, and did not look carefully at the beggar, as he gave him a dime and passed quickly on. Weston did not refuse the coin, but felt angry and desperate at being unable to find 50 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. work or friends. Then the temptation came back to him. "Well," he muttered to himself, "I am not obliged to beg. If I can't live honestly I know another way, and when some of these rich fellows wake up in the morning to find they have a little less money, I'll have a little more. Why not try Mr. Hill's house to-night ? " he asked himself. " I know the place well, and he is very rich." The plan fitted his mind. He entered a cheap restaurant and ate as much supper as his money would buy. Then he went to the park near Mr. Hill's home and walked about, waiting for midnight. The bells struck the hours. The twelve strokes passed. At last he approached the house. All was still and every one inside of it seemed to be asleep. Very carefully he made his way through a cellar window, and up into the dining-room. The plate was there. He picked out the choicest bits of silver, but what he most wanted was money. He crept up-stairs cautiously and entered the THE BUBGLAB'S DAUGHTER. 51 first chamber. He had no lantern, but the moon shone into the room. He glanced at the bed, and saw a little girl asleep with her face turned toward the wall, and one little arm thrown over her head. He opened the bureau drawers softly, putting a little watch in his pocket, and was turning to leave the room when his eyes fell on a small silver work-box of peculiar shape lying on the table beside the bed. His eyes were fixed upon it. A great fear came over him. He recalled the night of the party. With trembling hands he opened the cover of the box and by moonlight read the hand- writing on the card inside. He had written these words himself ! Strength left him and, overcome with emotion, he sank to the floor, and buried his face in his hands with the box beside him. He might be arrested, but he had ceased to care for himself. Ethel was slowly awakened by the light noise. She sat up in bed, and saw, as in a dream, a man who looked very much like a tramp, sitting on the floor. She leaned forward. What was that 52 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. beside him ? It was her box, her father's last gift. She must speak ! " Sir/' she cried, " who are you, and how dare you touch the box my papa gave me ? Give it to me now ! " The dreadful figure filled her with terror. Her courage failed her, and she began to trem- ble. It was terrible to be in a room with a stranger like that. The man lifted his head. "Don't be afraid of me, little girl, I won't hurt you," he said, recognizing her at once. "Where is your mother ? " " She is very sick at the hospital." " Has she been there long ? What is the matter with her ? " he managed to say. How pitiable he looked ! "She has been away almost a year, and she has been sick for nearly two years, since papa was taken away from us," she said, sadly. " Where is your papa ? " " My papa is in prison. Two men took him away for breaking into people's houses. He was a burglar, they said, and my poor mamma 'sir," she cried, "who are you?" THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 53 was so sick all the time she could never go to see him." " Would you like to see him again ? " "I have tried to find him," she sighed. " Ethel darling, look at me, don't you know your own father ? " She bent her eyes on the hapless figure. The moon streamed through the room ; the clocks were striking two. " My papa ! It is trice, then, that you are really a bad man, after all, and did you break into Mr. Hill's house for money? Oh, papa — go — for my sake, go ! " The silver box glimmered in the rays of the moon. The house was very still. " My dear Ethel," said the man, brokenly, in a low tone, " forgive me, I will try to reform. Oh, my poor dear wife, sick for two years ! Ethel, I will be upright, and honest now, — if only we can be united once more." He held out his hands. " Won't you try to love me again, little one ? You do not understand my temptations and hardships. I have suffered for my sins. I 54 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. long for a right life. Oh, that the past coulcl be blotted out ! " Tears fell upon his beard. "Ethel, tell me all." Ethel then told him how she and her mamma had lived and tried to work ; how they had parted with their treasures one by one ; how she had sold her work-box to Mr. Hill, and how kind he had been to her and her mother. "Ethel, I will go away. I rob Mr. Hill! What a wretch I have been ! " What touched the father most was that his little daughter told him that she had refused to believe him bad until she saw him in the act of robbery in her own room. She put her arms around his neck. " I will forgive you and love you as much as ever, if you will promise me that you will never do such things again. If you love me, and really mean to be a good man, you will come with me to Mr. Hill's room and tell him all about your life, and that you are sorry for breaking into his house." " I will go away," he said. THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 55 " No, you must confess — " Her heart should be true. The man hesitated, partly for fear of being sent back to prison, but more on account of the disgrace he would bring again on his family. He was now sincerely repentant. She saw it was so. Her first thought was to send him away. It was a clear night, and all the world was still. He could go out softly, and only they would know that he had ever entered the house. But her mother's words came to her : " A true heart wins friends." She lifted her eyes, and sat in silence. " If you go away," she at length said, in a low voice, u and I never tell, you may be tempted to enter another man's house. Would I do right never to tell Mr. Hill ? I cover up a wrong and expose my kind friend to danger. I see the right clearly, don't you, papa ? " " Oh, that I could have a child that could reason thus, — I am unworthy of you, Ethel, — but if I confess, think about the disgrace I will be to you." He felt as one at a judgment tri- 56 THE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. bunal ! " Yes, I will do as you wish, and if I am sent away from you, dear, forget me if you can. I am not worthy your love." She rose and dressed. It was a terrible reso- lution, but she led her father across the hall, knocked at the door of Mr. Hill's room, and waited for a response. What was she doing ? How would this end ? In a few moments she heard Mr. Hill get up and light a lamp. " It's Ethel, Mr. Hill, I want to see you." " What's the matter, are you ill ? " " No, sir, but I must talk with you. Some- thing has happened. May I come in ? " Mr. Hill, throwing on his dressing-gown, opened the door. Ethel stood there, hand in hand with the man who had begged the price of his supper that night, — a burglar. "What does this mean?" asked Mr. Hill, wondering who this man could be. The face looked familiar to him, and yet he could not place him. Why was he here ? Was his own life in danger ? " Sir, this is my papa, and I never believed THE BUBGLAB'S DAUG1ITEB. 57 until he broke into this house to-night that he was a wicked man, but he is sorry. Will you forgive him ?" Face to face with a burglar at midnight ! Mr. Hill knew not what the danger might be, but he said, firmly : " Ethel dear, go to your room, and I will speak to this man." Ethel obeyed, and the burglar then frankly told Mr. Hill that the object of his visit to the house was to rob him, unconscious that he had been benefactor of his wife and child. He re- lated all that had occurred since he left prison, and promised to be an honest man if he could get work. VI. Mr. Hill listened to the strange tale. Was it true ? Could this man be trusted ? He would test him. He said to him " Go ! " The man turned to obey him. "Stop," said Mr. Hill, " if you want work, Weston, you shall have it if I can secure it for you. Leave me now. I will see you in the morning." Weston thanked his friend. Mr. Hill gave him some money, and let him pass out the front door into the still night. The burglar was a changed man. When Weston returned to Mr. Hill early the next day, he was clean shaven, his clothes were nicely brushed, and he looked respectable. Ethel was delighted with her father's appear- ance, and when he and Mr. Hill had made arrangements for the employment of her father, she said : " Dear Mr. Hill, this is visiting day at the 58 TEE BURGLAR'S DAUGHTER. 59 hospital. May I take papa there to see mamma ? " " Certainly, dear ; and I am sure your mamma and papa ought to be very proud of their true- hearted little girl ! " " I am, sir," answered her father ; " she has been my salvation." This was true. Mrs. Weston had partly recovered. She for- gave her husband, and when he told her how his loving little daughter had completely changed him from a thief to an upright, honest man, she declared she was " the happiest woman alive." In a few weeks her health had so greatly im- proved that the doctors consented to let her go home. Home ! how sweet the word sounded to the poor, tired heart ! Home to the hopes of old — to Ethel and papa ! Good Mr. Hill had furnished a pretty little flat for his " friends," and when Mr. Weston thanked him he nodded his head and said : " That's all right. I would be glad to do a 60 THE BURGLAR' S DAUGHTER. great deal more for that little child. I have done my part, — don't you forget to do yours." " I never will. I cannot forget the promise I made to my little daughter in your room at midnight," — and he kept his word. He was true to the end, and in the shadows of age he would speak the name of " Ethel " with grateful tears. " A true heart wins friends," — more, it finds friends, in the hearts that it changes from evil to good, and feels the worth of life in this creative power. THE END.