Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-12-16

slue pain anu advanced toward tneHi' ouo
appeared about IS years of age, had skin
of milk and roses, gentlest of blue eyes, and
| quantities of fair hair wound round we'll
poised little head. She carried basket OF
ferns and flowers, green and white and
scarlet.
O'Brien broke off short in the middle of
| sentence, his gaze riveted upon her. The
proud father understood his surprise and
admiration. New acguaintanees were in
variably surprised at. finding he possessed,
hidden away in his home, so sweet creature
as Catherine.
"My daughter" said Scott fondly, as
O'Brien turned toward him with impatient
| inquiry in his eyes; Catherine, Mr..
O'Brien.''
II am glad to see you," said Catherine,
with timid hospitality, as she held out
little hand.
''I am glad to come" he answered, and
then suddenly and oddly turned from her to
study the scene. -....
you have a charming place here, Miss
Scott; it has a most pleasant Old World air,
verv refreshing to a weary traveller like my
self l suppose you have lived here all
your lie?"
"As long as can remember" said Cath
erlne; 1--WE came when L was quite child,
16 years ago"
"When her mother died." explained
Scott, in the lowered tone ill which man
mentions the still loved dead; ''the first four
years of nv marriage had cottage Hamp-
| stead way"
Sixteen years!' repeated O'Brien. "That
is long and enviable to have spent in such
an oasis as this; for it seems 10 be that life
| here must be ALWAYS smooth and happy"
"Yes, yes" said Scott; "and ir happiness
were intended to be our portion on earth,
| under conditions similar to these it might
perhaps be attained" He looked from
Catherine to the velvet lawns and pastures,
to the low house. with its friendly aspect,
and sun-awnings OF white and red. "But it
has been so willed for man, and We have
each OF us to bear our cross"
"True," assented O'Brien; "there is no
rose without its thorns; yet to one who has
been SO long the sport OF chance as 1
have ten years, even five, of such peace
ful home-life would go long way toward
compensation. After that l fancy could
face death without grumbling; but as it is,
1 should rebel, for it would seem hard to 60
without having tasted one OF the good gifts
for which life was given"
Lille was given for one thing only" said
Scott, as though speaking to himself
everything else passes as quickly as those
shadows over the grass. Inequalities here
will be set right in the world to come; and
SOmS OI luOSt WHO StdHu ulkueSb hOM Will
take the lowest place then-if, indeed" he
added, with passionate earnestness "if,
indeed they find place at all r.
Catherine saw her father had en-
tered into one of his religious
reveries, which often made him obliyious to
external things. To conceal his condition
from strange, and perhaps unsympathizng
eyes, she conquered her shyness sufficiently
to ask OBrien if he would care to 60 round
the garden. She led him from point to
point; showed him the great guelder rose
bush, with its million blossoms, the little
fountain, where tine gold fishes swan under
glittering cascade poured over them br a
smiling Nereide, and the "turn-about'
house. set on pivot, so that touch would
bring it round to follow the sunshine; and
he listened to her in such silence, and with
such evident pre-occupation, that she might
have thought he had forgotten all about her,
but for the strangely intense look she en-
countered if she CHANGED to meet his eye.
Presently he abandoned his taciturnlty
AM began to talk. She had taken him into
a forcing house to exhibit with especial pride
a long row OF slender arums. He told her of
the countries where he had seen these flowers
growing wild common as weeds.
"You have travelled great deal, my
father tells me?" said Catherine.
"Yes, have been a rolling stone, and |
consequently have gathered no moss; so that |
1 fiud myself, Miss Scott, at an age when |
other men have homes and children. about |
to begin life over again. / am absolutely
no further advanced than was 20 years
ago.
20. but you have been unlucky," said |
Catherine, gently. "Now that you are at
home in England you will find things will |
go better"
She blushed at her own temerity in offer
ing these timid consultations, and O'Brien |
watched her furtively.
eyes, think the luck has changed now,"
he answered. 81 see the goal plainly at
last" But his manner was still charged |
with gloom.
Catherine was puzzled. His long dark
glances confused her. She was glad that
the gong at that moment recalled them to |
the house.
At dinner the conversation turned upon
the guests travels. Scott, whose life was so
uniform, who knew no other excitement
than the rise and fall of markets, no greater
dangers than the crossing of Leadenhall |
street, was much interested in the others
strange tales. O'Brien warmed to his work.
He shook off his moroseness, and without
either undue boastlng or seli-depreciation,
set forth his adventures in manly fashion,
selecting episodes he thought most likely to
interest and painting lively pictures of
foreign life and manners.
Catherine listened enthralled. Never had
any one, within her limited experience,
spoken like this, seen so many maryels, or
done such courageous things. In her heart
she appraised at their just value the deeds
he passed so lightly by. Her cheeks glowed;
her sweet eyes involuntarily expressed her
homage. Yet she did not know the full
meaning of the new emotions awakening
within her breast; and. had she been asked
with what sentiment o. O'Brien most inspired
her, she would undoubtedly nave told you
with fear. For, though it pleased her so
much to hear him talk, she could scarcely
answer for rising bushes and futtering
pulse.
CHAPTER ".
O'Bricn began to come over to Streatham
at regular and frequent entervals. 1t
seemed to Scott his guest took pleasure in
walking about the gardens with Catherine,