The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1873-12-28

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sorrow for both of MS IL. however, mingled
with onr happiness, bidding as bear in mind
that earthly happiness must afways have its
Farewell, beloved Mary, till tho day Of our
looked-for meeting.
WALTER FORESTER"
The second envelope contained tho following
lines, written in o delicate female hand:
my Dearest Mary-Personally we are stran
framed photograph, hanging in my chamber,
has made me acquainted with my dear, long
I have heard not little, and assure you 1
feel doubly attracted to the youag lady be-
cause sho is the beloved niece of my own early
friend. Kathleen Ftz Maurice, of whom lost
Every anxiously, my dear Mary, are We
awaiting your return from that wilderness in
the far West to which series of such cruel
misfortunes induced you to GO.
Join here. without delay, aader the
guardianship Of Father Vincent, should you
not arrive by the day on which Walters pres
he is to take formal possession of his estate.
Believe me, my dear Mary. your sincere
friend, LOUISA FORESTER"
"Conld it all be trpef Was she, indeed, so
dropped from her hands, and lay side by aide
with the lock of Kathleen's hair. That memen-
to of the departed again awakened her grief;
then came Y the thought OF those dead cnes
3
| niece and nephew, though from motives 80
| dissimilar, seemed to bear SO strange an afin-
ity to each other; and thus, even in the depths
| of joy too sacred for words, the grief recur-
| red ever and again, at the remem brance of the
hapless Ella, her remains resting far from all
her kindred, in her grave at Bruges, and of
| her whose interment had but twenty four
! hours since taken place at Glasnevin.
! Then, at Marys request, the matron conduct.
| cd her to the room in which Kathleen had
| breathed her last sigh. Here she lingered
| n
prayer for SO beloved relative, whose spirit
| had passed away in that spot. From thence
beheld, congregated together, q number of
aged women who, but for the establishment OF
this institution, must have died in penury.
Mary passed through the rooms in which the
| greater part of them were assembled, with
kind words on her part and words of sympathy
on theirs. They knew her for the niece Kath-
leen had 80 tenderly loved, and some of them
whispered to each other hope that the young
girls lot would be q brighter one than hers
whom she had lost; and Mary, too, stood lis
tening, as it were, to the kind matron's words,
that in this world there is such scant reward
for those who noby bear the burdens OF
others for here, before her eyes, were those
land had not che whose death she 30 bitterly
deplored herself become SO destitute as to seek
within the walls of st. Joseph's haven OF
shelter amidst her sorrows) whose lives had
been spent in honest. industry and toll, never
thinking of themselves or the grim future
which one day might, and most probably
would be theirs. Had they not all spent the
bloom of their youth, the prime of their wo
manhood, in perfect abnegation of self, know
ing that for them there was no provision fol
afterlife, no cloisterad homo to shelter theu
when tho fullness of days was come, or no arm
of loving child on which to rest their dying
head and yet, amongst them might he found
the artist, the governess, the miiliner, the
ssamstress, the woman whose once happy
youth had never been haunted by the though
of necessity 80 dire that which befell her il
| her later years, who, sensitive and tender, ant
refined, had braved, all her life long, the rougl
| usage of q world always hard to such as these
not one of them, she knew, but, like her dea,
Kathleen, bad performed, with matchless cour
; age, some heroic act of virtue; scarce one OIL
, the last sigh, the last prayer borne by th
; angels to the throne of the Most High
: blessing on their child. Scarce one, too, " hos
loving care had not afterwards fallen on tn
little ones of the household, for whom the
t had supplied q parents place, or not o few VIII
had not succored the ofspring of some unfoI
Q tunate brother or sister, as she herself ha
Q been cherished. Well, too. did che know tha
. more than hundred such sought admissio
Q vainly !; for, a1as the place was full, and tn
z tinstitution, their sole hope and resource. We
= And then the girl looked in upon herself an
o beheld in her own happy fortune rare exeoI
. ton to the general rule, acknowledging, wit
. had herself been saved by the affectionate mi
o istry OF toiling woman, who, though in Il
. world, was yet not of it. She left st. Joseph
Q euOOuou anu SOEEO"Iul, eSen DeyOnO nor oW
,, private cause for sorrow, and said to hersel
Q Verify, the reward is in eternity, and f
It such have these labored. Oh! my beloved on
n crowned with q fadeless garland, an amara
+, thine wreath, art thou not, with others III
e unto thee, reaping anever-endiDg happiness
y the kingdom of thy Fatherr
- CHAPTER xxvI.
a Going Home-Conclusiom.
q The first appearance of Mary, With b
= swollen eyes and pale face, made Mrs. Mora
- aware that all was over, even before her ME
y spoke. l will net go far as to state that f.
- tunate Molly did not shed tears ut her haple
~ sisters fate and the sad want that had pr
'" coded it, for Mary had drawn the recital of
from the unwilling matren of st. Joeeph's, b
II her nature was ono of that elastic kind as
y enable it's owner very speedily to throw Il
{. trouble aud TIL sorrow aside.
10 OF course Mary told her all that had tran
I'd pired concerning herself, and her change
d prospects; and then, after long pause, NJ:
d Moran observed:
ID well, aud now you going to leave II
r, for good and all, just as expected to DO qui
!, aud comfortable; you'll want money, "
III hor ia n for thirty pda Al