San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-03-04
aDsracEea manner, does likewise. silence

thlHA Tue lQed was so sweep, says DeS-
mond, presently, his thoughts being (as they
should beg with Monica.
AS honey and the honeycombp says Mr..
Kelly, breaking off another piece, with
far-of, rapt expression.
"She said she couldn't be happy, thinking
"e were hungry. Her dear heart is too big
for her body"
Her cake is, certainly" says Mr.. Kelly;
more ne taxes thlrd enormous pinch out of
1t, and Desmond follows his example.
Il didn't tell her we had had our din
ners," says Brian. sit would have taken
the gloss off it."
"Of this?" pointing TO the smoking struc-
ture between them. II don't believe it.n
''No. the deed"
Another silence.
TITS capital cake" says Mr.. Kelly, PEN
sively, who has been eating steadily. since
the first bite. after all, give me a good.
sweet homemade cake like thisI Those
bought ones aren't to be named in the Same
day with IT, There is something SO light
and wholesome about a cake like this"
"Wholesomep' doubtfully; II don't know
about that. What like about it is that 1t
is hot and spongy. But, look here, you
haven't said yet what we are to do with it."
Julllk Wo uOlIS we'll
with it" says Kelly, breaking of another
piece.
'But what are we to do with the remains,
provided we leave any, which at present
seems doubtfulT'
keep them, of course. You ought to,
considering she gave 1t you whole as pres
ent"
"You are right; no one shall touch acrumb
Of it save you and me-" says Mr.. Desmond,
as though inspired. ''Let us smuggle it up
to my room and keep 1t there till it is finish
ed"
II feel as if was at school again with q
plum-cake and chum," says Mr.. Kelly.
well, come and follow me with it now,
and distract my uncle's attention if we meet
him."
ITO my room or yours?" insinuatingly.
''To mine" firmly.
"rll take the greatest care of il, if you like
to trust it to me-" with what Kit would GER
tainly have termed IAN obliging air."
II don't doubt you," sardonically. But
certainly not 1t was given to me, and feel
myself bound to look after it,"
'Pity we can't have it petrifed," says Mr..
Kelly, thoughtfuly. "Then you might hang
it round your neck as trophy" At this
they both laugh, and finally the trophy, af-
ter much difficulty, is satisfactorily stored
away.
1t is fortnight later, and desolation has
overtaken Monica. Brian has passed out of
her active life, has ceased from that seeing
and hearing and that satisfactory touch that
belong to daily intercourse with one be-
loved Only in thought can she find him
ua hot cd
journey to those detested estates of his In
Westmeath. e. #
She had gone down to the riverside to bid
him farewell, and had been calm, almost
careless, throughout the interview,-so calm
that the young mans heart had died within
him, and latent sense Of hope deferred
had made 1t sick. ..
But Just at the very last she had given way,
and had flung herself into his embrace, and
twined her arms round his neck,-dear,
clinging arms,-and had broken into bitter
weeping. And
Don't be long, Brian! don't be longP
she had sobbed, with deep entreaty, and
with such tender passion as had shaken
ell her slender frame.
So they had "kissed and kissed" and,
parted. And Desmond, though sad as man
may be at the thought that he should look
upon her face no more for four long weeks,
till left her with gladder heart than he
ad ever known. Her tears were sweet to
him, and in her grief he found solace for
his own.
And, indeed, as the days flew by, they
found the pain Of absence was checkered by
dreams of the reunion that lay before them;
and each day, as it was born, and grew, and
died, and so was laid upon the pile of those
already gone, was sad joy to them, and
counted not so much day lost as one gain
ed.
I'VE take no note of time but from its
loss" This loss in the present instance was
most sweet to Monica and her lover. To
them Time was the name of slow cruel
monster, whose death was to be desired.
And now the monster is slain, and to-day
Brian will return to Coole. She has prOmiS-
ed to meet him at the river but the reent-
less Fates are against her, and who shall in
terfere with their woven threads? As
though some vile imp of their court had
whispered in Miss Priscilla's ear the whole
story of her forbidden attachment, she keeps
Monica in the mOrning-room with her, copy
ing out certain recipes of dry nature, that
could have been copied just as well to-mor-
row, or next year, or 1IeUeT.
As the hour in which she ought to meet
her lover comes and goes by, the poor child's
pulses throb and her heart beats violently.
Kit has gone to the village, and so cannot
help her. All seems lost. Her eyes grow
large and dark with repressed longing, her
hand trembles.
There, that will do, dear child; thank
you" said Miss Priscilla, gratefully, folding
up the obnoxious papers and slipping them
into the davenport.
1t is now quite half an hour-past the time
appointed by Desmond in his letter. Mont