The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1882-06-18
MONA SCULLY /;
OR,
The Irish Bride Of an EnglishnaIi.
A STORY OF THESE TIMES,
GContinued.l
CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VII.
Time, with lovers, flies with swal-
lows wings" they neither feel nor heed
ii as it passes, so all too full of haste
the moments seem. They are to them
replete with love, and happiness. and
sweet content. To-day is an accom-
plished JOY, tomorrow will dawn for no
other purpose but to bring them to-
gether, So they think and so they be-
lieve.
Rodney has interviewed the old man,
her uncle; has told him of his great and
lasting love for this pearl among women;
has described. in very few words, an,
without bombaSt, his admiration 70.
Mona; and Brian Scully Though will
sufficient national pride to suppress al
undue delight at the young mans pro.
posaD has given hearty consent to
their union, and is in reality battered
and pleased beyond measure at this
match for 'his girl"
To his mother, however, he has sent
no word of Mona, knowing only too
well how the news of his approaching
marriage with this "outer barbarian"
las she will certainly deem his darling)
will be received. II is not cowaldice
that holds his pen, as were all the world
to kneel at his feet and implore him or
bride him to renounce his love, all such
pleading and bribing would be in vain.
IL is that, knowing argument to be use
less, he puts off the evil hour that may
bring pain to his mother to the last mo.
ment
When she knows Mona she will love
her,-who could help it? so he argues;
and for this reason he keeps silence UNI
Til such time as, his marriage being a
fat occompH, hopeless expostulatiOn will
be OF no avail, and will, therefore, be
suppressed
Meanwhile, the hours go ''laden with
golden grain" Every day makes Mona
dearer and more dear, her sweet and
guileleSs nature being one calculated to
create, with growing knowledge, an in
creaslng admiration and tenderness
Indeed, each happy afternoon spent
with her serves but to forge another
link in the chain that binds him to her.
To-day is so cool, so calm, so bright
that Geoifrey's heart grows glad within
him AS he walks along the road that
leads to the farm, his gun upon his
shoulder, his trusty dog at his heels.
From the cabins, pale wreaths of
smoke rise slowly, scarce stirred by the
passing wind Going by one of these
small tenements, before which the in
evitable pig is wallowing in an unsayory
pool, a voice comes to him, fresh and
joyous, and plainly full of pleasure, that
thrills through his whole being. II is
to him what no other voice ever has
been, or ever can be again. II is Mona's
voice!
Again she calls to him from within.
rs ii you?" she says. Come in here,
Godfrey. want you"
She is sitting before spinning-wheel,
and is deity drawing the wool through
her fingers; brown little fingers they
are, but none the less dear in his sight.
I'm here she cries, in the glad
happy tones that have been ringing their
changes in his heart all day.
An old crone is sitting over turf
fire that glows and burns dimly in It's
subdued fashion. Hanging over it is a
three-legged pot, in which boil the "pra-
ties" for the boys" dinners, who will
be coming home presently from their
work.
what luck to find you here" says
Godfrey, STOPPING over the industrious
spinner, and after the slightest heSita-
tom kissing her fondly in spite of the
presence of the woman, who is regard
ing them with silent curiosity, largely
mingled with admiration.
Mona, who has blushed rosy red at
his kiss, ~ now beaming on her lover.
and has drawn back her skirts to admit
OF his coming little closer to her lie
is not slow TO avail himself of this invi-
tation, and is now sitting with his arms
thrown across the back of the wooden
chair that holds Mona, and with ewes
full of heartfelt gladness fixed upon her.
You look like Marguerite. A very
lovely Marguerite" says Geotfrcy, idly.
gazing at her rather dreamily.
Except that my hair is rolled up. and
is too dark, isn't it2 have read about
her, and ! once saw q picture of Mar
gucrte in the gallery in Dublin. and IL
was very beautiful. | remember il
brought tears to my eyes, and Aunt
AnaStasia said | was too fanciful To be
happy. Her story is a very sad one,
isn't III"
VERY. And you are not bit like
her, after all, says Godfrey, with sud
den conjunction, because you are go
ing 70 be as happy as the days are long,
II can make you So"
One must not hope for perfect hap
plness on This earth, says Mona. grave
ly; but at least know with q soft
and trusting glance at him. II shall be
happier than most people"
Wnat darling you arel" saws Rod
ney, in a low tone; and then some,hino
else follows, that, had she seen il woni5
have caused the weather-beaten Old ner.
son at the fire another thrill of tender
recollection. 'N'''
"What are you doing?" asks Geof.