The Portland daily press., 1881-05-16
Macha.
A Sketch of Irish Character,
CONCLUDED FROM SATURDAY.


How was she to be taught to do il?
though? Why was she so stupidity, so obsti-
nately blind to the exig"ncies of the case?
Full of intelligence on every other subject,
she could not be brought to see that be-
tween Sir Humphreys wife aud the wild
tribe of her people there could not and must
not be any further personal intercourse.
How slow she was in taking up his mean-
ing, when he tried to bear it in upon her,
without putting the fact before her in unr
comfortable words! With her beautiful seri-
Gus face, her outward and inward refine
ment, in her soft white draperies and del
icate laces, how could she contemplate a
visit to that abode of poverty which he re-
membered only too well? Fancy the Wild
brown, little sisters hugging the Lady Gill
bert; the meagre weather-beaten mother
weeping over her, the mumuy-like grand
mother mumbling Irish into her ears! There
was grotesqueness in the picture, as pre-
scented to Sir Humphreys imagination, that
brought the indignant color to his face.
Macha's obtuseneSs was aggravating
From time to time she would say to him i'm
ploringiy, "When will you allow me to go?'
and when answered unsatisfactory, would
turn away with that dull look of patience
that as becoming habtual to her counte-
nance. She lived in state of painful sus-
pense, of silent expectation, which showed
she had not taken in the idea that he was
resolved never to grant her request. The
memory of his promise was still so fresh in
her thoughts. Her stupidity was the blind
ness of perfect faith.
Every day her yearning grew deeper, and
the look of it settled in her eyes, Her hus-
band resolutely appeared to misunderstood
her, refused to meet her pleading glance,
persuaded himself that she was i'll, out of
temper, anything rather than home sick and
lonely by his side. If his conscience smote
him with the remembrance OF an eager
promise voluntarily made, he told himself
that foolish VOWS ought never to be kept.
The strangest part of it all to him was that
she did not reproach him with having prok-
en- his word. But she did not think he had
broken it-only that he was YEARLY long
about beginning to fulfil it.
A bitter season set in, and Sir Humphrey,
looking at his wife's thin cheek, and the
darkeniDg trouble about her eyes, bethought
him of taking her to some gay city, to gem
ial climate and the novelty of strange faces
and places He had watched her walking
to and fro among his comfortable tenantry,
in and out of their warm wholesome dwell
ings, and he knew what brought the spasm
upon her lips aud the culver Of pain across
herleyes. She was thinking of that dreary
hovel among the wilds of the Connaught
hills. Where the sun always shines, he
thought, she would forget how cold and
hunger sting. So the Christmas guests
were put off, and Sir Humphrey and Lady
Gilbert went to winter at Florence.
OVERWHELMINGLY Macha did her hus-
bands bidding. She said to herself. "When
We come back, early in the Spring, he will
take me or let me CO." In the mild air of
Italy she did not realize so keenly the we'll
remembered rigors of the Connaught win
fnr Hnp ,ofri,, IL A.
beauties that surrounded her, and for lit
tie time Sir Humphrey thought his triumph
was at hand. 1t was but an accident that
turned the scale against him. and made
shipwreck of his plans and of Macha's life.
Accident or fate led Lady Gilbert, who
rarely looked at anything printed, to glance
into the columns of an English newspaper;
and paragraph met her eye in which GER
tain rough statements were made regarding
famine of food and fuel in certain parts of
long suffering Connaught. Instantly her
long-suffering patience gave way, and all the
latent fire of her nature burst forth. She
flew to her husband with burning eyes and
laid her finger on the cruel lines. Sir
Humphrey was in an irritable humor. Cut
off from his customary country pursuits,
idling in foreign city, he had fallen into
play, and had lost heavily the night before
this eventful morning. The sight of his
wife's feverish emotion made him angry;
her passionate demand to be sent with sue
cor to her people, chafed and bewildered
him. Macha! for whose good he had incon-
venienced himself so seriously, left his home
in winter, lowered himself to sit at the ia
BILE with gamblers !-Macha to rise and turn
on him with those flaming eyes! He met
her with fiat denial and uttered some Bit
ter reproaches, upbraiding her with impru-
dence and persistent folly. Having begun
to give little vent to his displeasure he
ended by saying more than he had ever
meant to say. He refused to believe in the
newspapers tale of distress and forbade her
to mention her people again.
Macha stood like one stunned, slowly
taking in what his angry words conveyed
As she had believed his words before, so she
believed them now. They fell upon her
like blows, and when he had turned harsh
ly away, and left her under sentence of his
displeasure, one only desire and determine
ton possessed her-to get away out of this
cruel world of plenty and bring food and
comfort to her furnishing mother. She did
not weigh the consequences of defying her
husband her agony and longing blotted out
even the memory of his existence. How she
made her way to Connaught, who shall say?
As the lionness scents her stolen young, so
did Macha scent the path to her native hills
Accustomed to rely upon her husband for
everything, to follow his instruction and
mark out nothing for herself, she must
have maue almost superhuman exertions to
accomplish her end. But accomplish it she
did. When her husband returned that
night, half angry and half relenting, re-
volving plans for reconciliation, taking couu-
sci with himself as to how he ought to deal
with her, knowing very well that he meant
to send largess to those creatures ON the
mountain who were such thorn in his
side-when he came back to his home that
night, Macha was gone.
Dismay, anger, terror, all passed through
and over him. He first swore, and con
demned her; then, remembered her sweet
face and her former patience and almost for
gave her. Uneasily he resolved to let her
go and have her way. He had given money
yesterday, commanding her to spend it GU
her own amusement; for the present she
could not want; and this reckless visit would
be sure to tame her. Very soon she would
return to him on any terms. Thus torn by
distracting thoughts Sir Humphrey went
back alone to his English home. Pride, OBJ
stinacy, and the conviction that his wife was
wrong and required punishment and humil-
iation prevented his following her to Ire
land.
The sun was setting behind the whitened
peaks when Macha came YEARLY up the last
dcScllI VI ulllS. IucTc were Gue UdFe
scanned levels, the weird rocks, the scant
green patches, the dark, mysterious looking
lake.
''Oh, God, have returnedp' broke from
her. There is my mothers cabin" The
first ache that had gnawed her heart sud
denly left her, and glow of satisfaction
went tingling through her veins Strange,
instructive uureasoning love of home and
kindred that can forbid a human being to
accept ease and pleasure in exchange for
the suffering of want! Macha, who had
been delivered over to abundance and luxu-
ry, cast them from her like broken letters,
and rushed forward into the embraces of
her old companion and foster-mother-Pov
erty. This was the spot where she had
danced and sung, wept and prayed; where
where she had been hungry and cold and
full of care, and had been necessary to the
existence of those she loved. Here was
where she had watched, half credulous. for
the FAIRIES among the rocks; and, wholly be-
lieving, beheld, with delight, the procession
of glorified beings in the heavens. This
was the home of her passionate devotion;
the straight, hard bed from which she could
endure to yield up her mortal breath.
Only the eagles, and whatever supernat-
ural beings had been lurking near heard