The morning star and Catholic messenger., 1873-05-18

NO AucW WOulQ never consent. NSltucT ui4 nS
believe that Winny herself would deciineso
grand match when IL came to the point. :
Emon had argued all these matters over and
over again in his mind and the fatal certain
termination to avoid her society as much as
possible, hsd enabled him hitherto to keep his
heart under some control.
Kate Mulvey, though "book-sworn" by Win
ny, It she did not exactly repeat any OF the
confidential chat she had with her friend
about Tom Aurdock and himself, felt no hesi-
tation in "letting slip" to Emon, for whom she
casually, as if by accident, that Tom Murdock
'was no great favorite" of Winny Cavana's-
that the neighbors "were all astray" in ,'giv-
ing them to one another"-that if she ..,a knew w
what two and two made, it would all "end IN
smoke;" and such little gossiping observa-
tions. Not by way of telling Emon, but just
as II in the mere exaberance of her own love
that Emon was likely to have an opportunity
of o few words with Winny alone, for Kate
was evidently preparing TO turn up to her
own house when they came to the little gate.
Emon had heard, even in his rank of life,
the aristocratic expression that faint heart
never won fair LADY," and q secret sort of
seif-eeteem prompted him to make the most of
tho fortuitous circu umstances which he had not
Providence might have thrown in his way.
"Whst can she do" thought he, "but reject
my love :" 1 shall know the worst then; and
! can make start of it. Pm too long bang
d
got parish aud barring his acres and his
cash-if he has any-I'm better man than
ever he was or ever will be-
These were his thoughts as they approached
the gate, and his heart began to treEable as
Kate Aufvey said:
"Winny, dear, must part with You here.
saw my father at the door. He came to it
two or three times while we were coming up
the road and he made sign to ME to go in.
Pm sure and certain he's half-staryed for his
dinner, waiting for mer'
well, Kitty, suppose can't expect you to
starve him eut-and-ont, and Ill bid you good
bye. I'm all as one as at home now, may
say; Emon-i-won't bring you any further"
.f 9ouIe not s1 bringing me- "nny; I'm going
"Indeed, Eion, you have been very kud,
and Pm entirely obligeti to you for all yoar
trouble; but won't ash you to come any fu--
thee now"
Kates father inst then came to the door
again and she, thinking that matters had
gone far enough between Emon and her friend
in her presence, bid thens final goodbye,
and turned up to- her father, who still stood at
the door, and who really did appear to be
starving if enc could judge by the position of
his hands and the face he made. =
The moment had now arrived when Euaon
must meet his fate, or call himself coward
and q pottroon for the remainder Of his natur-
al life, be it long or short.
He chose the least degrnaing and the most
As Winry ela out her hand TO him, and
asked him to lea outthe dog, he said:
mo, Winny I'm give him up to you at the
end of the lane but not sooner"
Winny saw TINT reno Rstranee would be no
use She did not wish to quarrel with -Emon,
and she knew that at all events that was no
time or place to do 30.
They had not advanced many yards alone,
tween her wishes, and hes fears. She had not
yet spoken unkiudly to Emon, and she had
tact enough to know that the 6rst unkiad
word would bring out the whole matter, which
ohoI 1aI IA a.N> rr@y L..
which she doDbted heS own power to with
stand.
"Emou," she said, "in<l.ed W ill not let you
come any further-don'e be anery."
'Winny, you said first you would not ask
me, and now you say you will not let me.
Wlnny CaVana, are Soa ashamed of any one
about Rathcashmore, seeing you walking with
Emon-a-knoek "
you very uDinss and very unLind,
Emon, to say any such thing. Inever was
ashamed to be seen walking with you; and
You will give mereason to be ashamed of yon,
Emen- a knock there now, seldom put the
Two last words to your name, except when
wish to be kind. But there is u difference be-
tween shame and fear, Emon.H
Then You are afraid, Winny I"
eyes, Emou, but it is only of my father
take take. that t with you now, and be satisfied bnt
dog GO and good-bye.'
No, Winny. III net fret you willingly but
here or there it is all the same, aud the truth
must come out. W1nuy, you have been the
Soodbine that has twined itself and hossona-
ed round my heart for many long day. Don't
wither it, Winny dear, but say may water
and nourish it with the dew of your love; :"
and he would have taken her hand.
Not here. Emon," she said, releasing it
ARE you mad Don't you see we're in sight oi
the housef and gracious only knows who may
be watching us Unite your handkerchief and
give me the dog. For goodness sake, Emon
dear. don't come any further
mo, Winny, I'd die before I'd fret you.
Here's the dog, handkerchief and all keep it
as token that may hope"
Indeed, Emon, cannos-don't ask me-"
Emon's heart fell, and he stopped to unite
the handkerchief in despair, if not in chagrin,
| at Winnys last words.
But Bully-dhu appeared to know what his
mistress ought to have done better than she
did herself. 1t was either that, or Emon's
hand shook so, that when endeavoring to un
| tie the knot, the dog got loose, handkerchief
and all, and, turning TO his mistress, began to
bark and jump up upon her, with JOY that he
had gained his liberty, and was SO near homo,
Winny became frightened lest Bully -dhu'a
barks might bring notice upon them, and she
endeavored to moderate his ecstacy, yet she
felt a sort of secret delight that she was in for
the handkerchief in spite of herself. She was
deterHninsd, therefore, not to send poor Emon.
a-knock away totally detected.