The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1889-08-24

ter's face as she called to him across the
portals OF the home he had denied her in
that last good-bye; perhaps the beautiful
features of the little son, framed i'll by its
long golden ringlets, and pair Of baby
arms outstretched toward his unrelentin e
heart, had part in the softening process
u Sir Rupert's speech and manner. And
perhaps it was on this sorrowful and al
fectionate picture that he dWelt III these
lunlb, lonely days. All conjectured, but
none knew.
Once, after having been driven to Fair
light church, he wanted to be taken to Oak
Lawn.
1t was in the autumn time, and the day
was cold for the season, and dreary enough
to have remained indoors, especially for
one so frail and woe-begone. But he wanted
to go, desired to see "once more,'' he said,
the beautiful grounds of Oak Lawn, where
repossd the dust Of Lady Percival
And patient John had driven slowly,
silently through the bleak lanes and across
where the heather-bells glowed like fame
on the browning void until the airy, breezy
Chace came to view, which lay between
them and the chapel at Oak Lawn
The clouds sailed high ard white with the
deep blue riffs shining through them in
long, calm belts, sweetly cleaning, as il
Heaven smiled complacently down in un-
changing love, in spite of all the tunlult~
Gus SORROWS of earth.
The brown and russell leaves whirled
hither, thither, and whirled on before in
little edaies of death, and Sir Rupert sighed
deeply and repeated to himself in half
audible voice: s'We all do fade as leaf-as
a leaf
=. tt, hi,aI>
ing that for once in these lonely outings
Sir Rupert had deigned to speak and that
he mad been addressed. So leaning over
the seat he repeated eagerly: "What is it,
master?"
eve all do fade as leaf, John, and are
forgotten, forgotten" repeated Sir Rupert
once more, and sighed again.
The gates of Oak Lawn swung open to
admit them, while the solemn-loolzing sex
ton stood respectfully by divining the rea-
son of this visit. He had admitted Miriam
Percival Fairfax some months ago, and
well, he remembered it; also that there
was message here awaiting the master OF
Heatherleigh.
Leaning on the arm of the trusty John be
made his way with uncertain faltering
step to the family tomb, which seemed to
say: ':Sir Rupert, they are nearly all here
nearly all here,' as he stopped, weary and
! faint, at its portals. Poor old man! Hetook
| up the spirit echo and murmured: eyes,
nearly all here; ali excepting Miriam and
those other ill-fated ones and-and me-"
The wind swept up from the sea, signing
and whispering in the dark yeWs of the
sealed volumes Of trouble, pain and tears
| laid away to molder in their dank shadows,
breaking into requiems for the silent sleep
ers when gusty branches OF the reddening
oaks were reached. Up through the cen
trail passageway of the grounds borderec
on either hand with aged, weeping elm5
! the restless winds seemed to catch tn
peaceful ms piration of rest and lost them
| selves in melodious chants for the dead
Sir Rupert drew his surcoat closely about
his frail, shivering form, and heard with
sinking heart the dirges for the dead echo
ing down the grand old aisles Of the GENE
terry as when he heard them cnanted over
Lady Percival:s bier on that awful day: the
day when the light and sunshine went ou
forever for Heatherleigh, eclipsed by the
shadow of the tomb.
Then he grew visibly agitated, and put
ting out his hand clutched the outer iror
door to steady himself and gain sufficient
Of mind, to deceive his attendants as to the
nature of his weakness.
AS he did so piece Of paper dropped
from it's hiding-place in the intersticess Of
the complicated fastening and futtered tt
| his feet.
John picked it up at his masters bidding
and gave it into the trembling, outstretcheo
palm.
CHAPTER XIV.
| Sir Rupert spread out its long-folded
length on his hand, gazed intently at the
chirography for some time, apparently try
| ing to decipher its contents. Not making il
| out salts factorily, he handed it to the sex
ton who stood watching him, and said, hur-
riedly: ssRead it to me, will yous"
The quiet sexton, having an idea Of some
| thing of its contents, took the paper re
luctantly and read in clear, modulated
tones: