San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-02-17

IeaSSued, no doubt, by MOnica's tone;
ference, tall slim lad of about sixteen and
llttle girl somewhat like Monica, but more
restless III features, and even degree more
pallid.
My dear children, why didn't YOU come
IN before? says Miss Priscilla, aghast at
the lnhospitable thought that they had been
| ShiH crllls WIN needless nervousness in the
hall for the last five minutes.
They said they wouldn't come in until
paved the way for them, says Monica. with
slight shrug of her shoulders that is A trick
of hers. They always put eyerythingmon
my shoulders; 4 little shabby of them
call it,
| Il am afraid you must have pictured us
as OgreS," says Miss Priscilla, which idea
| strikes the old ladies as such a delicious
| flight of fancy that they laugh outright, and
look at each other with intense enjoyment
of their little joke.
"Well, of course we couldn't tell what you
would be like" says Monica, gravely. You
might have been people likely to impress
one with awe; but as 10 is This is Ter
ry," laying her hand upon her brothers
arm; land this is Kit She is really RATHER
inc, you know, but 10 one ever calls her by
so long name. She isn't worth it," e.
At this the three Beresfords laugh among
themselves, as children will, at time-worn
fun, knowing no fatigue; after which Kath
crime and Terence are embraced and made
much OF by their new-found relatives, and
freely commented upon.
But ever and anon the eyes of both old
ladies wander thoughtfully, admiringly, to
where the lssome Monica stands, Ike a
pale, pensive lily;
But how have you managed to be here so
| soOn%' asks Miss Priscilla, when the inn
promptu luncheon, improvised by the start
| led Timothy, has come to an end. The chill
| dren were all hungry, and have eaten
great deal, and have talked more. Indeed,
though Miss Priscilla has been dying to ask
this question for long time, it has been
impossible for her to do so, as there has not
been so much as comma in the converse
ton for the last hour.
The Beresfords are like so many clocks
wound up and bound to go for certain
time whether they like it or not; and, ap-
parently, they do like it. Now they have
| run down little, Terence being exhausted
after his last laughing attack, and Kit wrap
ped in contemplation of an old-fashioned
hair brooch that is fastening an equally old
fashioned piece of priceless lace that adorns
Miss Priscilla's throat.
1--WE came by the wrong train" says Ter
ry. 1--WE generally do. Ever since we left
the South of France-where we were stay
ing with the Bohuns, you know, on our way
here-we have been missing our trains right
and left, and turning up at all sorts of unex-
pected places. Haven't we, Kit?'
You have" says Kit,with suspicious en-
phasis. You have such pretty trick Of
rms inp into thn first train Won 600 withaut
ever asking any one where it is going. No
wonder we always turned up at the wrong
end"
"You'Ue pretty trick of putting every
| thing down on other peoples shoulders"
says Terence, with open disgust Whose
| fault was it we were always so late at the
stations that we hadn't time to make in
| quiries, I'd like to know? Could YOU" with
| fine irony, tell us?'
Certainly; it was nurse" replies Kit,
with dignity.
Dear me and where is your nurse now%
| asks Miss Priscilla, anxiOusly. The query
| is a fortunate one, in that it turns the con-
| versatiOn into different channel, and
| checks the eloquence of Kit and Terry, who
are plainly on the brink of an open war.
when last saw her." says Terence,
'she was sitting on the top of our biggest
| box, with everything else strewn around her,
and her feet resting on two brOwn-paper
parcels. l WONDER" says Mr.. Beresford,
| addressing Monica, ''what OH earth she had
| in those brown-paper parcels. She has been
| huggng them night and day ever since she
| left Jerusalem"
Dynamite" suggests Monica, lightly;
| whereupOn the two Misses Blake turn pale.
AT that rate, Aunt Priscilla, we needn't
| trouble about her, +" says Terence pleasantly,
las she must be blown up by this. None
| of those clock-work affairs could be arrang-
| ed to 90 on much longer. Poor thing when
| in the flesh she wasn't half bad L forgive
| her everything-even her undying hatred to
myself"
IF she is in fragments, so are our things"
says Kit. Il think she needn't have elected
! to sit on them at the supreme moment"
You don't really think" says Miss Pencil
Ope, in a somewhat troubled tone, remem-
| boring how an innocent baker lin ROSsmoyne
| had had some of the explosive matter in
| question thrown into his kitchen the night
before last,-'yOu don't really think that
| these parcels you speak of contain Internal
| machines?-Yes, that is what they call
them, my dear Priscilla" turning to her sis
ter, as though anxious to apologize for hav-
ing used word calculated to lead the mind
to the lower regions.
BY this time both Kit and Terence are con-
vulsed with delight at the sensation they
have created, and would probably have gone
on to declare the innocent Mrs. Mitchell an
advanced Nihilist of the most dangerous
type, but for MOnica's coming to the rescue
and explaining matters satisfactorily.
"Still, cannot understand how you got
up here so quickly" says Miss Penelope:
"You know Moyne-hOme hope you Will
call it for the future, my dears, with lit
tln fund nat ON NInncaS hand. us quito