The Irish standard., 1889-08-31

|
her, scampering down the path, their prinl,
pretty nurse bringing up the rear with the
lunch basket on one plump arm, while over
the other she had swung her hat with its
wreath of wild autumn flowers she had
| gathered by the roadside. They made a
| pretty picture. One of the children ran up
| to her, offering her a bouquet Of yellow
| fall flowers it had crushed into a witheTed
condition in it's chubby palms. She took the
blossoms with 'thank YOU to please the
| little one, while the rosy nurse curtsied re-
specially and passed by.
They were from The Cliffs, a pleasant,
roony mansion some two miles farther up
the shore; doubtless the family carriage
had been cleft up at Anterior Place, few
rods from The Rest, and the children had
been sent down to the beach for a half
days outing in charge of Er1na, the bright
eyed foreign nurse-glrl
Miriam recognized them instantly, having
met them on the beach quite often during
the summer, and the Athertons, she had
learned, We're relatives.
"What a happy little party" unused
Miriam, looking after them and watching
rather respectfully each little head pass
down and out of sight, ''What a merry,
sunny home The Cliffs must be- she added,
thoughtfully.
A merry shout from one Of the children
below arrested her attention and ste, for
getting her sorrows for mome1,t, arose
with a smile, and went on toward home
The purple ivy clusters showed rich and
dark against the gray stone Of the old wall
by which she passed, while here and there
81 great leaf of the luxurious vine famed
into scarlet All! yes, it was autumn;
autumn of the cycling year once more and
dreary, desolate autumn Of her neart and
aimless life; and she looked up chr ough the
tree-dotted park and saw throngh hot Gears
the silent grandeur of the Rest. The cur
tains were drawn, and roorIs filled with a
desolateness that made her heart sink.
But the windows must be thrown open,
the knotted Grape removed, and the merry
sunshine must be admitted, for Patty was
coming soon, and Patty's life and exuberant
spirits should not be dampened by even
suggestion of what she had suffered. No;
it would be cruel.
And Patty came. The great lonely draw
ing-room was thrown open, and the sweet
toned piano in the dim recess, which
had been silent as the grave for SO long,
was once more brought to light, and to life
also, for Patty's deft fingers swept the for
gotten chords and made music once again.
Miriam felt ut first chat it was almost
sacrilege, but the sober second thought
prompted a saner view Of the matter. But
the tears would come in spite OF her efforts
to be cheerful, for now she had not even q
home. 1t was Patty's, and she-well, she
was welcome, nay, urged to make 1t her
home with them, and Hollis Montcalm, in
his genial, cordial way, had requested her
to do So But it wasn't home notwithstand
ing, yet Patricia made it pleasant for her,
very pleasant, and next to the beloved dead,
she loved Patricia
They had been sitting in the coy little
parlor upstairs, which commanded a lovely
bit of sea view, she and Patty, in the bright,
sweet weather of the late autumn, busy
discussing little run Hollis intended to
make down to the mines for his father-in-
law when letter was brought in.
''W'ere is the mistress Of the 'ouse2" de-
manded tho carrier of the porter who
answered his impatient ring. eli was to
give this letter into Ter own 'ans, j." he added,
before the polite servant could make an
swer. Forthwith the porter ushered him
into the waiting groom and sent for Patricia.
s'Ere is a letter of important news,
missus, han hit requires han hanswer
right ha-way," communicated the lad, ris
ing with cap in hand as Patricia came for
ward.
ssPlease to wait moment, then," said
Patricia, scanning the superscription in the
dim light.
At a glance she saw that it was for
Miriam; doubtless the sender did not know
~