The morning star and Catholic messenger., 1878-04-14

fever, more or less. down in the village AID
Connor and 90 in and cut of tie oabint
| every day, you know" :.
"Pelham would have been as fever-proof II
| you had let him live at homo. Castle DAILY
/ has some advantaG %, you see. Well, Eleanor
I 1t will be something TO cheer you up, and put
! the rest of us our good behavior, to have
Pelham at home for the rest of the summer
| III scribble Oft liz Q to Charles without lose
| of time, aud gallop off with the letter to catch
tho ~eSm 1t e. the hn sss, IN
mind when you know that the letter is on its
way, and your boy certain to come to you"
| CHAPTER II.
| " Spinning under the Great World tree,
| yggdra.il hover the Sisters three
just Thought astray tEoTe. tine angers of skuId
\ ksot in toe thread double gold. or grey
The Fat. myers a Instant, whilst over heads
FAILS across our dim pGescisnoe. spirit hand laid
that n
Little sealskin. and Other Poems.
When Mr.. Daily returned from his rapid
ride, he found his wife taking her daily num-
ber of constitutional turns up and down the
| snnniest walk of the flower garden, which, by
dint of much persevering effort, was kept up to
pitch of trimness aud perfection that en-
abled her, while pacing it, occasionally to
fancy herself transported back again to her
old English home. This was rest to her
spirit If her eye had fallen any token of
failed to see at every step in any other part of
the pleasure grounds, the benefit Of the walk
would have been over for her, the fresh air
and the sunshine woufd have lost all their
sweetness, and sbe would have returned to the
house as nnrefresbed rs she came ont.
She was standing with her back to the
mountains. looking with satisfaction at neat
ly-dng aower-border, when her husband came
up behind her.
"Ah,Tt was good mornings work of
Ellen's and mine. We shall tnEn out accom-
ha1 ar1.s nj U<Nr
"Yours and Elien's! Why did you trouble
In the sulks. BY tie way, did not intend
to bring ' on face to face with the misfortune
SO soon but the truth must come out sooner
or later. Saunderson has taken himself off.
He chose to turn away Que of the under
gardeners, and there vas a geuera, row in the
place. fancy his wife took fright at some
threats against him. aud carried him of by a
coup DE- main else be beard of something
very muoh to his advantage, for he took his
departure suddenly."
How long agop
"Five days. Come, confess that you have
not missed your factotnm yet I"
II have only been out twice, and, Dermot, 1
had rather have known. l wish-i really
wish that you would always tell me directly
when anything disagreeable happens, then I
should not live in constant dread of what
may hear"
II did not know you lived in constant dread" )"
II dreaded Sanuderson's going for one thing
he was the only servant could rely on for
keeping OCQ6E. ITO mas mao q nara llI6 mere
among the other servants. I am not surprised
he should 60 directly something better offered"
"No more am it was naturally nothing to
him that he had been eighteen years in our
service, and been more indulged and trusted
than anyone else about the place. As an
EnRlishman, he was bound to better himself.
Why should he stick to the sinking ship like
these poor benigbted Paddles and Murdocks
who leave their ragged coats on the rose
bushes, and plant heads of celery among the
geraninms' 1t wonld not have been becom-
ing in Kim"
"Dermot, l wish you would not say such
thing" h2gs ,,;no. ,.,r.. r,a,,.,n.n ~
"No, about sinking ships. If you mean any
and If, after all, suoh speeches are only idle
words, is it not cruel to be always dropping
weights of apprehension on my hearth"
IL certainly don't mean to be cruel. You
have not lived with me eighteen years with
out finding ont that my speeches not al
ways to be taken GH pied de la lettre. You must
allow sometbing for metaphor and the ex-
igencies of couversation, of which in your
company have to sustain the chief expense.
Aud even if there is q spice of truth in the
| words, why should You trouble yourself 30
terriblyf The ship struggles on anyhow, not
sunk yet and there's always good prospect of
the wind changing and plenty of excitement
| in the struggle. l don't think could put up
With life of plain sailing such as yoqr brother
seramb comes more natural to me-"
"And of all things that is what is most hate
! ful to me-"
81 am very sorry for it but don't you think,
! as it is just that sort of existence have IN.
| fortunately brought you to, you might soften
| the expression of your aversion o littlef Your
| lips can drop weights we'll as mine, though
| you don't seem to believe it,"
They were now pacing the gravel walk, arm
| in arm and as he finished the last sentecce,
be laid his hand tenderly over the slender
! fingers that rested on his arm, and looked
| fondy in her face.
Her eyes were fixed on the ground but she
fels the look, for little tipge of colour came
into her fair grave face, and the dark eye
lashes that swept her cheek trembled.
! "DeImot," she said at last, will you do
! something for me that wish very muchf"
Have ever refused to do anything that
you wished since the day that you owned mef'
Not little personal things-in those have
had more Indulgence than 1 cared for-but
| oh, Dermot! / must say it: have not had
my wishes about the things near my heart
| the management of the house, and the educa-
! tion of the children. Yon know that Ellen
aud Connor would not run wild as they do if
] had my way, aud that there would be other
changes. should think of the children's
| .1f A.