Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1890-05-01

touch of consecrated sympathy, and
her granting it just the answer of a
heavenly charity that owned his lone
ly claim? He-could not tell; be never
knew. The Eucharist he thought,
ever after, is q L-ystery, and whatever
shis was. it was part of that.
She came. 1t was q gathering OF
two or three; but was enough; it
seemed to him as if it were q com.
pany Of the blessed, and he were drink
ing the new wine in the Father
Kingdom. She fingered with the rest,
and after them, that hers might be the
last ood-by, the last nd-clasp. She
knew he would like it to be so.
Duty called him to the far West,
where be was known as a ritual ex-
tremist, faithful priest, a blameless
and solitary man. Five years after
came a note:
"They say I Aave not many days to
live. 1 would like you to give me a
communion before I die. Will you
Gomez"
He found substitute, borrowed the
money for his journey, and took the
midnight tram. Admitted to her
bedside, he knelt; it seemed the only
posture now. She was wasted, but
still lovely, and her look was altogeth.
er sanity as she smiled upon him.
They said it was not fair to sum-
mon you so far; but knew that you
would come
of course. I thank you from my
heart for calling me. That was not
our last communion then
1T could not be the last, you
know. We should take it together
above even if we had never met again
here
He said the services on his knees. An
hour later, after she had rested, they
talked.
Monica he said-ceremonies were
abolished now how was it that you
never thought it strange my asking
you to come FIVE years ago? / have
wondered at my own presumption
ever since
She smiled quantity; her intimates
had known that expression of old,
tho he had never seen it before.
Which was it? presumption toward
the altar or toward me2'
Both; mainly toward you, am
afraid. With such as you l was
merely the priest; as man l had no
right to lift my eyes toward you
You were not in the habit of lift
ing them; you never looked me in the
face till then. But I new. / under
stood. 1t did not seem strange, but
natural and right. If il is not clear
to you now it will be where we are
golng.'
A dreadful doubt smote upon his
soul, Monica, ought I to have said
more than did, or attempted to ?
No; you said and did just enough
You had your duty. You were mar
ried to the church.
But 1t was not only I. / know so
little of these things; but if l have
saken too narrow view, and failed in
my way toward you.'
mo; if you had said any more then,
t would have seemed strange to me,
md everybody else would have shock
ID. 1t would not have answered at
III, and now it does not matter
Does not matter-why p he said,
AS he owned, IN some things |
le was very ignorant.
"You ought to understand that. Be-
,ause in Heaven there is no marrying.
We shall know each other without |
hat
By a great effort he mastered him
elf and went on: Pardon me, and
six God to pardon me where you are
,oing, if I sin in this. Did you know |
hat then, and every day since, as a
nan, I would have given my life for |
1ou, if it could have been of any use to |
1ou p
OF course l knew it. 1t was said |
ust as we'll without words, and much |
'etter. Do you think knowing such
hing as that has no effect on a girl if
he has anything in her But you
we're not only man, you we're q
'riest. They would never have let
ne marry a minister
A professional compunction rose in
lis long-disciplined mind. Was it
light to talk thus to the dying? Il
m selfish thus to distract your mind
rom higher things. Forgive me-"
The quaint smile rose again. You
annot distract my mind, and you
iced not be so formal; we have had
nough of that. I am not the least
fraid to die; there Is nothing to be
70 afraid of, and not so much to re-
ret. 1t is but for a little while, you
now. When You come to be where
am now you will understand. Ideas
nd customs that rule our lives here,
hat you and I were bound by, and
ould not be independent of, and
night have fought against to our sor.
ow, are law only for now; presently
hey will be Of no consequence at all.
Whatever is human is our Lord's;
I = a..