The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1882-07-09
CHATTER XVI.


trouble and perpleying thoughts. At
last her brain grows SO tired that she
cannot pursue any subject to It's end, SO
she lies silently awake, watching for
the coming of the tardy dawn.
At last as she grows weary for wish
ing for it,
INFORMING fair
Comes forth with pilgrim steps In amcc gray"
Naturally an early riser, Mona slips
nOiRcessly from her bed, lest she shall
wake GeOllrey, and having accomplish
cd her toilet without the assistance of a
maid, she leaves her room, and, softly
descending the stairs, sallies forth into
the gray and early morning.
But which way to goy TO Mona all
round is an undiscovered country, and
for that reason possesses an indescriba-
bic charm. Finally, she goes up the
avenue, beneath the gaunt and leaness
elms, and midway, seeing a small path
that leads she knows not whittier, she
turns aside and follows it, until she
loses herself in the lonely wood,
Mona is happy; the walk has done her
good, and warmed her blood, and
brought color, soft and rich as car
mine, TO her cheeks. She has followed
the winding path for about an hour,
briskly, and with sense Of bicn-etre
that only the young and cody can know,
when suddenly she becomes aware that
some one is following her.
She turns slowly, and finds her fellow
pedestrian is young man clad in suit
of impossible tweed. The stranger is
advancing slowly; he is swarthy, and
certainly not prepossessing. His hair
is of that shade and texture that sug-
gcsts unpleasantly the negro. His lips
are trle thick, his eyes like sloes.
There is, too, an expression of low cum
ming in these latter features that breeds
distrust in the beholder
The stranger, having come quite near,
raises his head, and. seeing her. starts
naturally, and comes to Stand-Stlll.
For a full half minute he stares unpar-
donably. and then lifts his hat Mona
who. as we have seen is not great in
emergencies fails TO notice the rude
ness. in her own embarrassment, and
therefore bows politely in return to his
sautati0n.
She is wondering who he can be, when
he breaks the silence.
saws, awkwardly. then, finding she
makes no response. he goes on, Stlll
more awkwardly, Can you tell me if
this path will lead me 20 the road to
PlumSt0n;N
II am sorry can tell you nothing, -
says Mona. shaking her head, II was
never in this wood before; know
ing Of it,
~ should know all about it, says the
stranger with q curious contraction Of
the muscles Of his face, which it may
he he means for a smile. In time |
shall no doubt. but AZ present II IS a
sealed book 10 me But the future viii
break All seals as far at least as Rodney
Towers rs concerned.
Then She knows she Is speaking 10
"the Australian las she has heard him
called, and lifting her head, examines
his face with renewed interest. Not a
pleasant face. by any means, yet not
altogether bad, as she tells herself in the
generosity Of her heart.
II am a stranger. ! know nothing 90
she says, again, hardly knowing what
she would depart.
II suppose ! am speaking to Mrs
Rodney. he says, guessing wildly, yet
correctly, as it turns out, having heard
as all the country has besides. that the
bride is expected at the Towers during
the week. He has never all this time
removed his black eyes from the perfect
face before him with its crimson head
gear. He is as one fascinated. who
cannot yet explain where the fascina-
ton lies.
YES, am Mrs. Rodney, SAYS Mona,
feeling some pride in her welded name,
in spite OF the fact that two whole
months have gone by since first she
heard It.
"You haven't asked me who am, "
says the stranger as though eager to
| detaln her at any cost, still without a
smile. and always with his eyes fixed
| upon her face. II seems as though he
positively cannot remove them, so riv-
| eted are they.
mo- she might in all truth have adj
ded. because did not care to know, y
but what she does say for incivility to
an enemy would be impossible to Mona
Is, ~ thought perhaps you would not
| like it,
Even this is a small, if unconscious,
cut. considering what Objectionable GU
riOsity he evinccd abouthe name. But
| the Australian is above small cuts, for
the good reason that he seldom sees
| them.
81 am Paul RodRey,r he now volun-
teers, --"yOur husbands cousin, You
know. / suppose, with darkening of
his whole face, "nowI have told you
who | am, it will not sweeten your lik-
ing forme.'
81 have heard Of YOU" says Mona,
| quietly. Then, pointing to that part OF
the wood whittier he would go, she says
coldly, IL regret that ! cannot tell you
where this path leads TO, Good-morn-
ing
With this she inclines her head and
without another word goes back by the
way she has come.
When she is quite gone, he pulls him
self together with Jerk draws heavy
sigh, and thrusting his hands deep into
his pockets, continues his walk.
At breakfast Mona betrays the fact
that she has met Paul Rodney during
! her morning ramble, and tells all that
has passed between him and heron
being closely questioned, which news
has the effect Of bringing cloud TO the
brow Of Sir Nicholas and a frown 10
that of his mother,
"Such presumption, walking in oul
wood without permission she says
hauRhtily.
MY dear mother, you forget The path