The morning star and Catholic messenger., 1878-11-24


gress of the trials, which John fetched eac
morning from Baliyowen, aud read aloud t.
Bride aud Ellen at night.
! Pslham's and LG sbia's wedding was fixed 70
| o late day in October, and just u week before
| the happy bustte OF pre- psration was some " hs
dulled by the gloom which spread over som,
members Of the household, when the news o
the sentenee passed on tue prisoners reached
| them. John read slond to the family circle
from which Ellen would not be excluded. tl,
lodges summipg up, the verdict of the Try
and the awful sentence eff the law:
be taken hence to the place whence you cam,
and be thence drawn on q hurdle to the place
of execution. and that each of You be there
hanged by the neck till you be dead; and
that afterwards the head Of each of you shall
be severed from the body. and the body OF
ptssd of IS her Majesty shall see fit: and may
the Almighty God have mercy upon your
souls"
These was o long silence after the words
were read, and deep eobs fran MIS- DAILY were
heard throughous the room but Ellen lifted
eyed, though pale as death.
SIS it very selfish" she asked in q faint,
awed voice, that can feel nothing but
oh, such thankfulness for the omission of one
name that might have been in that sorrowfnl
soon; but j lss this minute / can only be
th hank full" She held out her hand to John
as she spoke, and he took it and kept the
trembling fingers in his steady olssp, till
DAi INV S@iho Aoi aio, Auo Soiiloo eh ASE COu"
yatescent to bed.
John was alone in Anne's tarret room, whom
Bride came down stairs again, spreading ont
ont his papers on the table, aud preparing for
a long evenings work.
You heard her, John" che said, coming up
t. him eagerly. You heard it plainly she
said one name, and she could not have forgotten
her brother; it was Connor's name that rose up
IN her mind; it was Connor who occupied her
thoughts 30 exclusively, as to shut out every
one else. an certain of that"
W. 7 Y.
have thought it over, and am convinced she
meant Connor but what of thetf 1t was or
moments strong feeling, the love of kiudred
that in such hearts as hers asserts its euprem-
acy over everything else at times. We ought
not to conclude rything from that"
'B at, John, now we have begun to speak
the subject, have something else to tell you.
You really mnst let me speak,"
"It cannot be anything of importance"
Bat it is something of Importance, and I
may not be able to got it seid if don't speak
now. s,erdsy' iu looking over q drawer
came upon letter of mine, addressed to her
more than year hgo-at the time when you
paid that hasty visit to Ireland. Yon remem-
Der the occasion CT it, John
well"
"ste put my letter into her pocket uishout
re reading it, but when came back into the
room an hour after, fonnd her crying over it
You had better not have told me this. It
is hardly fair towards her, now that you and
she are 30 much to each other, for you to watch
her changes of mood and carry them to me
aud it is doing me no kindness. To be dis.
turbed by false hopes, when / am learning to
think of her as pledged to another is more
than can bear. DON'T try to do it, Bride.
Never tell me anything about her again. Let
it be sealed suhjec between us as hitherto"
:" No, no, no lit shall not. have been
silent q long time, John; have listened to
from day to day to ossify yours elf into a Statue
of des pair, and have OF said word for fear
of hurting you but now that my own common
sense tells me you a1e making mistake, will
not ho!d my tongue any longer. And, John,
never thought l should speak in this fashion
to you but it has come TO ths-it ia for my
own happiness am plotting quite as much as
for yours cau't afford to let her 90 out of
our lives much better than you can and tell
you this frankly that if yea haEs set courage
to win her and N axe your life complete, shall
not go away eontentediy with the sulen spoIt
half of you that will leave Good Peoples Hol.
low with me. She must be a witch, for she
has got bold of me completely that cannot
any longer be satisfied with you alone. l shall
that you will never bs worth ali you might be
even to me, if you don't get her"
"You don't suppose that want your testi-
mony to that do youf You don't suppose that
can't feel that better tkan youi'
I" / want to be sure that you feel it enough
not to let pride or aoy other folly lose you q
chance of happiness"
You may be sure that pride shall not
shonld have asked her again twenty times over
if nothing but pride stood in the way"
Then let me tell you all have discovered "
mo, no; she would not like it, and don't
believe you can have discovered anything
about her that l don't know by intuition
already; but am al the came obliged to you,
Bride, for your ZEAL and it will be "a link be.
tween US VII hatever falls out and a spur to
urge me to bIiDg little more than that dis
agreeable maimed hA!f.self you describe to
or common home if we do 60 away together
Now leave me to write my article in favor of
TeDFieVe being pFAnted the rel halls
be sent ii by the early post Tomorrow"
Bride retired to her room, but she observed
that John did not Immediately turn to his
work. She heard him open the front door, and
saw him set oat IN the cold October moonlight
for walk up the valley. On coming down
stairs in the early moruing next day she found
the newspaper article written and folded to go
by the post. The state of the candles, burned
down to the sockets, showed that the work
had not been completed till very far into the
night; yet John did not seem at all fatigued
by the loss of rect there was more vigor and
brightness in his face when he appeared at
breakfast than she had seen there for many O