The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1892-03-19

Il he omen window and let the cool an
breathe upon his worn face. The scent
# yiolets aoated up from the old gar
len: the bell began to ring for evening
PRAYER, and sleeping memories aWoke
with the perfume and chime. How
sweet and familiar all this had been
,nce He thought he had forgotten the
,ast, but here it was within him, fresh
md living still.
(, AS he turned from the window his eye
ell on a sculptured head, just then
Illuminated by the evening light. 1t
vas crowned in kingly fashion, and tho
oval circlet rose above massive brow,
md cruel, clever face The nose was
straight and delicate; mustache hung
,yer the mouth, but did not hide the
ir,n outlines of the thin lips that were
curved into faint but hooking smile.
The sharp contour of the cheek ana
The sunlen temples told OF wasting
mental toll. A man with such face
night have been versed in all the wlles
IF statecraft: he would have worked
with his scheming brain but never with
ais hands, He might have raised ar
mics, and directed their advance upon
he foe, but he would never had led
hem on to battle with his own sword.
It was q face that could have looked on
anmoved while men and women were
tortured. and even the soft western
light that shone upon it with gentle
glow could bring out no sign of tender
less or nobility
Yet some w here, whether lately or in
the far past he could not tell, Michael
had seen a. face that resembled Ghls.
There was something familiar in the
chiseling Of the features and the up
right line between the brows He stood
md gazed at it with a curious feeling II
repulsion and strange dread. He was
afraid of the face; absurd as it seems,
he felt that it was knocking him. and
lefying hi1u 10 find that other face that
was like it.
Then, with sudden impulse, he
walked to the glass, and looked at HIM
self There was nc installing the like
ness now, that crowned human fend
mad features like his own In that
,arveu stone he saw all that was evil in
mis- own visage deepened and intensa'
led. A few more years OF selfish
;cheming and of deliberate scorn of all
holy things, and then his mouth would
Jake that pitiiess curve, and that Satan
G smile might be stamped upon it until
4 turned TO dust
He sh,ldderad and passed his hand
across his eyes. Had he been led here
20 receive mute warning? Weakened
oy long-neg]ected illness, weary With
ncessant toll, he could not shake OF
ibis idea as he would have done
,nce 1t would haunt him sleeping and
naking with fear that he had never
xnown till now
And was it, after all, merely a morbid
fancy? So great are the possibilities OF
good and evil within us that every one
may carry about in his soul the future
angel or the future fend. The man
Who by his own will has been left to
himself may we'll be startled if be gets
glimpse of that which self may be-
come. That God does sometimes vouohs
safe these glirnpses of the possible we
cannot doubt ''There, but for His
grace, goes John Bradford, - cried the
I'D Puritan preacher when he saw the
criminal led to execution.
IL will go ont OF DOORS thought
Michael, as he left the room. "A walk
through the old village will calm my
nerves, and insure a quiet night"
CHAPTER XVIII
THROUGH SMOKE AND FLAME
The farmer gladly assented to his
guests proposal that they should take
/ breath of fresh air before dinner
There was but one way of approaching
she courthouse, and that was the old
way, across the far1nyard and through
The white gate. They went out, past
the meek cows and cluching hens, and
found themselves in the lane by the
churchyard. The days work was end
3D. laborers trudged homeward, ex-
changing a word with the farmer as
they passed, and looking inquisitively
vt his companion Not one of them
recognized him, although he remem-
bered many of their faces we'll enough.
Perhaps prosperity changes people
more than poverty does, perhaps the
successful city life is harder than the
cough country life. Anyhow no ono
suspected that this pinched and enact
sted stranger was the bright~looking
lad who had lived amongst them few
years ago.
Once, as they passed the open door of
cottage, Michael felt a strange thrill
If self reproach. A pleasant-faced
woman, between sixty and seventy, sat
sewing in wooden armchair, with q
:rutch on each side. She looked up and
nodded to Belthorpe.
"How are the pains this evening, Mrs.
crake?" he asked, kindly.
well, not much better, thank We, but
40 worse" she answered, in a cheerful
voice. And how's all the little ones.
Mr.. Belthorpe?''
They're bright enough. You'll SEQ
them tomorrow; their mother has got
parcel to send you"
"Mrs. Belthorpe don't forget the
poor" said the woman, gratefully.
They walked on in silence for q few
PAGES and then Michael asked what
had changed Ann Crake from a strong