The morning star and Catholic messenger., 1878-08-25

cared 70 enter upon, and that tempted each
When tea was over, Mrs. ID DAly lay back OIL
the sofa with her eyes shut, listening, as sh
said, to the stiffness; and occasionally. when
door was opened below, catching the distan
sound of Pelham's and Lesbia's voices In d ue
to which Bride was playing the acoompani
ment on the piano In the draWing-room. Ellel
sat on stool looking into the glowing woot
embers, and eeeing there o vision OF an ole
manorhouse. whose low.ceilinged, psnelled
rooms, as they opened ont before her, were oc
copied BY an ineongruons encosssion OF owner'
-Marmadn nike and herself, Pelham and Lesbia
as q rival homo to Castle Daily, invested VI ith
n fatal power of attraction that was destined
- draw all the prosperity and habit Ableness
from one family abode to the other..an
Aaron's serpent CT home, swallowing up other
homes in revenge for having been left desolate
80 long. "They must love best the place where
they were borp," she said to herself land Un-
ole Charles would welcome them back there
now they are prosperous Why don't they goi'
And with the question o heavier sense of obli.
cation than she had acknowledged before fell
upon her and saddened her.
The evening was nearly over when, on Mrs.
Dsly's retiring to rest, she ran down stairs to
spend the last half.hour before the prayer
time in the drawing room. Everyone came
forward to reproach her for having. been ab-
sent SO long on Johns and Bride's last even
ing but Ellen thought they all looked as il
they had enjoyed themselves in her abaence.
Pelham apparently had not been tarouchs /;
the piano chatting In the pauses of their songs,
and there was little flush on Lesbis's face,
and the aoit light in her brown eyes that be-
came them best. Bride, with her fingers on
the keys, playing mechanically what che was
told to play and dreaming between whiIes,
was thinking that she should have John all
to herself tomorrow. John, under cover Of
the music, had been indulgipg himself in
thou Rghtfal reVisal of tbe essay on Young Ire
land poetry, that was to go with him to Lon
don The next day, reclining comfortably in his
armchair meanwhile, and only jotting down
memorandum for a note or altering the form
of o sentence with his pencil, and now and
then murmuring over phrase half aloud to
see if the sound satisfied his ear we'll as the
sense bis judgment. He was we'll pleased as
ne read: and secretly thought that here was q
and surely here and there pathos too, and
sentences of keen sarcasm that in their word.
ing more nearly realized his standard Of ex-
preston than anything he had written before.
He looked up at the bookshelf over his head,
and nodded smilingly towards the copy of
Elias essays which had been his fret pur-
chase when he and Bride found themselves in
. condition to begin to bnild up a library and
he said to hin sslf that his past hours of deyo-
tional admiration of that master of delicate
irony had not been quite thrown away, but
might yet produce fruit that would prove the
disciple not so far behind his model bot that
their kinship might be recognized. When
Ellen came near, John resigned bis chair and
pencil into her hands, and begged her to read
the essay and mark any passage she did not
approve. Then he walked away to the other
end of the room, and called Pelham to come
and look over some papers with him, and dis
ouss matters of business that had to be att and
picked, and aitsr time, somewhat annoyed.
when he discovered that though Mr.. Thornley,
folded and unfolded letters and talked fast, he
was not by any means giving his whole at5en-
aud that he invariably paused in the middle
of sentence if Ellen turned over q leaf of the
MS. she held while he was speaking. When
Pelham answered, his eyes became fixed on
the pencil between Ellen's fingers, and he was
clearly far more occupied in counting the
number Of marke she made on the edge of the
page she was reading than in listening to what
Was said. There was nearly as much of the
authors anxiety fJr appreciation as OF the
lovers in the absorption with which John
watched Ellen's progress through his, pages.
He was not foolish enough to suppose that he
could win her heart by any display of literary
skill, but he thought there were outworks of
ad miration to be ktormed that way aud he
counted on having earned her gratitude by
the ample justice he had rendered to the grace
and originality he had found in some of Con-
nor's verses. To atone for the critical mild
ness there displayed, he had fallen with
double Gritty on the faults and exaggera-
tions of the poems that had moved him 30 en-
thusiasm when he had heard Ellen's voice
thrill and tremble with their pathos. In treat
ing these, he felt he was dealing with perilous
matter that his conscience would not allow
himself, the words of that other poet aroused
strong antagonism-an impatient disar pro-
val that colored his Judgment of his verse
more than he was aware.
AT last Ellen turned the final page, and
John pushed aside the papers he had been
arranging into con fused hesp again, and
hurried mp to her chair. He almost trembled
at the thought of the first look she would turn
on him when she raised her eyes from the
paper. The concluding sentences of his essay
we're to his mind full Of deep sympathy with
1refsnd's s1ferings, and of mournfai. solemn
warning TO those who, while singing their
oountry's wrongs, were preparing still worse
fate for her than she had yet endured and he
thought Ellen would be much moved in read
ing what he had written. He recollected the
wet sheet of the newspaper when one pathetic
poem had received such t:ibute as would.
he thought, have satisfied the most exsoting
poets thirst for acknowledgment. Would there
be tears in those dearest eyes in the world
nowf
"Well," he said, standing opposite her, show
do you like it 7"
The eyes she raised to his fIce were swim
ming in tears, but it was angry light that
flashed through them.
Like it How could you think L should
like it | Why, hate it ALL hate every
wOrdO