The morning star and Catholic messenger., 1873-03-02

never goes to Beremouth." What made the
1alnt carnation mount to Eleanor's facet
what made the woman pause to collect herself
before et re she she spoke :-"oh; ma'am, she is right
l. suppose you like being at Ds. Rankin's ?"
Very much; Ny place Of wardrobe woman
is not hard, but it Is responsible. 1t suits me
And am near Lady a areystoos. @ s'fh sHow W fond si
you of her!' aThore is not anything
would not do for her," said the woman with
me to believe-that have had great deal to
do with Lady Greystock's cure. She has treat
cd me like sister, and !! can never feel for any
She says you have known better days" "PD
.tercnt days; don't say better. I have nothing
to wish for Ever since tho time that Lady
Greystock determined on staying al Blagdep,
have been quite happy" You came just as
she came" "Only two months after" And
did you like her from the first Z" "Oh, Mrs.
came. | never thought of love, but of every
care and every attention that one woman could
show to another Had il been life for life, am
that then thought. Bnt when she recovered,
and loved me for what had done for ber, then
it was love for love: Lady Greystock gave me
for gratitude and as a thanksgiving"
When Eleanor was gone. her pleasant man
ncr, her beauty, the music of her voice, and
rema aimed with Mrs. Morier as pleasant mem
ory, and dwelling on it, she fingered over her
early tea and ate of hashed mutton, making
meditation on how Eleanor had got to be Jeni-
fer's great friend; and whether their both be-
ing Catholics was enough to account for it.
This while Jenifer walked on toward Clay
ton. She stood at last on the top of wide
table-land, aud looked fron, the short grass
where the wild thyme grow like green velvet,
and the chamomile gave forth frag GRANGE as you
trod it under foot, down a rugged precipce
into the little seaport that sheltered in the
below.
| tumble down houses were packed thickly below
her. The nature of tho precipitous cliff was
donkeys among tho branching fern gave pic
turesque variety to tho scene, and made the
practical Jenifer say to herself that Clayton
Cove was not "that altogether abominable"
when seen to the best advantage on the after
| noon of rich autumn day. A zigzag path,
| rather difficult to get upon on account of the
| steepness of the broken edge and the rolling
| stones, led frnn Jenifer's feet down to the ter
races; short cuts of steps and sliding stones
| led from terrace to terrace. and these paths
ended, as it appeared to the eye, in a chimney
q pleasant scent Of wood nd burning turf. By
the side of the house that owned the chimney,
which was whtewashed carefully, and had
white blinds inside the green painted wood
work of small sash windows, appeared another
| roof, long, high. narrow, with a cross the
! eastern gable, and that was the Catholic chapel
| the house Father Daniels lived in; and after
a moments pause down the path went Jenifer
with all the speed that a proper respect for her
personal safety permitted When the woman
got to the last terrace, she opened q wicket
gate, and was in n sunny garden, still among
slopes and terraces, and loaded with flowers.
Common flowers, no doubt, but who ever saw
Father Daniels Canterbury bells and forgot
them! There, safe in the bottom walk, wide
and paved with pebbles from the beach, Jeni-
fer turned not to the right, where the trelised
back-door invited, but to the left, where the
west door of the chapel stood open-and she
walked in: There was no ono there. She knelt
| down. After while she rose, and kneeling
before the image of our Lady, said softly,
| Mother, she had no mother Eleven years
this day since that marriage by Gods priest,
and at His holy altar-eleven years this day
since that marriage which the laws of the men
of this country deny and deride. Mother, she
had no n,other Oh, mighty Mother! forget
neither of them. Remember her for her trou-
BILE, and him for his SIM" Not for vengeance
but for salvation, she might have added but
Jenifer had never been accustomed to explain
her prayers Then she knelt before the adora-
BILE Presence on the altar, and her prayer was
very brief" My life, and all that is in
lt"'-was 1t a vain repetition that she said it
again and again' Again and again, as she
looked back and thought of " hat it had been J;
as she thought of that which it ras and knew
of the future that, blessed by our Lady's pray
| ers, she would take it, whatever it might be,
as the will of God Aud so she said it /; by SO
doing offering herself One great thing had
colored all her life; had, to her, been lDe-hcr
life she with that great shadow on the past,
| with the weight of the on the present,
with the fear of unknown i'll on the future,
gathered together all prayer, all hope, all fear
and gave t to God in those words of Offering
Jenifer could tell ont her wishes to the
Mother of God, and had told them in the words
she had used, but it was this woman's way to
have no wishes when she knelt before God him
SELF My life, and all that is in it ;" that was
Jenifer's prayer.
| tTo be continuedJ