The Irish standard., 1892-02-06

l
he went to be clerk at Petersfeld, ane
and there he became acquainted with 3
| German who taught him his language
French he had learned already from Mad
emoiselle, who lived at the vicarage; III
deed, there is scarcely anything tot
hard for him; and then came a letter
from Aaron Fenlake, who is a foreman
in Battersby's works in London. He
/ told Michael that Battersby wanted {
corresponding clerk, and advised him te
; try for the post. And he did try ane
| got it,
s'Who is Aaron Fenlake?" Lucy
asked.
:'Have not told you about Aaron?'
said Olive, whose eyes and cheeks were
bright with excitement. ':He is The
son of old Fenlake at the inn. A quiet
slow fellow. but as good as gold and as
/ true as steel, and devoted to Michael
Those two were always friends when
they were little boys"
! And they are friends still?'
! Lucy put the question in d lang11i6
! voice, but there was something in
/; Olives answer that aroused her atten-
tion.
YES" the girl said, family, and with
a deepening flush. ''Oh! yes, they are
friends still
Lucy watched her and saw the signs
| of inward tumult in those delicately
cut features. She understood that
Olive was determined to defend her
lover at any cost, even the cost of her
own convictions. She was just as GER.
. tain that Michael had given his friend
the cold shoulder as il it had been plain.
ly avowed, and she knew that Olive
could not think of his conduct TO Aaron
without pain.
''Ah! remember that you said some
ching about this Aaron and Jane Chal.
lock-" she remarked. after pause.
"Aaron is i'm love with Jane,'' Olive
answered: ''but he is too shy to ask her
to wait for him. [ wish he would speak
out for James sake
Lucy, with her proud, impatient
nature, had wondered sometimes at
Olives sisterly feeling for the Challock
girls. There was no one in the village
who had not been surprised at the
second marriage OF Olives mother,
the widow Winfield. Why q woman
with her natural refinement should
have taken rough Tom Challock was
mystery indeed; and yet such mysteries
are found everywhere. Tom was
widower with two daughters Of his
own. and the girls seemed to take more
kindly to Olive than he did. For in Ills
1,o Vat hot IN
not want her under his roof, and she
secretly longed to find shelter else
where. Ely and by, perhaps sooner
than she dared to expect, Michael
would have made a home for his
promised wife: but, meanwhile, the
waiting was as hard as Tom Challock
could make it. And already Lucy
Cronler had suggested that it would be
better to go away and earn her own
bread far off than live in her step
fathers cottage.
''Have you said anything to Michael
about my plan?" Lucy asked, after an
other pause.
''No,'' replied Olive, with a sigh.
''The time was SO short, you know; and
if it came to nothing he would be disap-
pointed. All! il it could only be carried
out, how happy I should be, Lucy!'
II bslieve it will be carried out,'
Lucy said, quietly.
Her eyes were gazing through the lit
tie window at the bit Of evening sky
shat could be seen under the heavy
thatch. The sun had gone down, leav-
ing that pure and peaceful light that
belongs to the evenings of early spring,
and Lucy seemed to gaze as if She
could never have enough Of it's beauty.
One or two slight tendrils were outlined
darkly and delicateiy upon that clear
background, and once or twice they
.trembled little at the breath of a soft
wind. Olive sat silently on her stool
by the couch, her hands were clasped
round her knees, her heart had gone
out after her lover, travelling away