The morning star and Catholic messenger., 1878-06-09

John walked down TO the garden gate. end
Bride btrolled roUards Mrs Dsly'o ,wer.
borders, the only part of Ibe pieaaBr- grounds
still kept in toerAhle OF der, and chiefly by bsr
hands. Tb. liGnG of the clear September day
was dying in Gna west. the sharp on ioes of
the gray MsaD Tntk bills began 30 melg INTO
the purplinK sky, the trees 10 the plSo tasion
behind the hOUse To group themeelt es into
masses OF shadow the opal cilors of suuset
had faded from tho lsk he, leaving lG pale sheet
of shimmeripg silver, with fanfastio mist-
wreaths LronG icg AMI gathering ou irs frrrber
shore. A ,c4nG Of fsItIp0 lUAses and v'rong
smelling AotuTn fl 'weUs Fl led the stiIi heavy
air. Bride snuff Il rh mp ~itn q sense Of ss'iS
faction. Autumnai scenes and evening hoDVs
had q spt c,al aJtEs cion for her. She never
found them sad. iB other people prutessed TO
do; they soo.hed and even sxhiisrated her
spirits, speskIng 10 her heart 10 tuneS shs un-
derstood with the voices of trleDds. She had
walked through shadows and frosTa TOO Ion 2
not to be on hsDdab skiDg tsrms With then, !;
and it was easier for be-: TO tiGd plsasure ia
the promise of the f0tnre, the hidden hope, the
little hints OF the ne" day and the dis ant
summer that evening and autumn whisper Of.
than in the full beauty of sunshine and flo wers
that seemed to nook the pale tints in which
her own life's history was painted. She paused
to gather o handful of autumn violets, and to
listen to the deep stiffness of the evening,
Now and then strong tone of Johns voice
reached her, or a sbrill whining exclamation
smiled to see that they were talking still, John
actually leaning over the gate in an attitude
of listening-snd-yes-th was q withered,
skinny, brown hand on his arm. Well Bride
knew he was not the man to shake it off.
What q triumph over him she would have! I!
Yet che wished the colloqny over, for she was
losing the opportunity of talking to him on
the subject next to her heart. She turned her
face sgain towards the white road, that wind
ing up and down the hill into the far distance
looked 80 promising, as if 1t must some day or
other bring something new even into her Iife
Mechanically her eyes rested on o black spot,
appearing just on the verge of sight-Peter
Lynch, no doubt, in the three-wheeled car, re-
turning to Ballyowen for his mistress letters
She traced it into distinct shape, till q vague
feeling of interest and expectation crept over
her. A click of the gate and Johns footsteps
CLOSE behind reused her. and she turned quick
"Come. now, confess. How much e We shil-
lingsf Not less than half a-crowp, Pm very
certain"
'Not half. penny"
"JOhn, you're putting me of with some dis
graceful Subterfuge. Why, saw her hand on
your arm, and she is turning even now for an
other curtsey and God save your Pm afraid
it's something serious. Have you promised
her the reversion of my entire wardrobe3 or
10 she to have one of the new slated cottages
on the Ballyowen road What have you given
awayf"
"Nothing, protest sgain: or, to be very
exact, about three hours of my own time. I
should not like it to get talked about but 1
did not see my way TO refuse.'
Explain, please"
sit ssems that q certain ruffiAn, commonly
called Hill Dennis is that old crone's son. -
81 know that we'll enough you turned him
ont of his holding"
"For very good reasons. He was o thor