The Irish standard., 1892-07-23

/ How long Aunt Mary talked do not
| speaking, and though heard her voice
for some time the words quoted were all
i I remembered of her conversation.
Those words, a sermon in themselves,
made deep impression on my mind,
and scarcely day has ever passed that
| have not recalled them. They were a
source of consolation to me, and often
when was sorely tired and when my
/ burden Of trouble seemed heavier than
| I could bear, I thought of the great day
! of reckoning, and bore patiently on,
knowing that there was time coming
in which my wrongs would be adjusted.
It was several days after my mis-
fortune before l knew the full extent
! of the inhiction / had suffered. Aunt
Mary had made it appear as light as
possible, and she had taken care that
| should not have a glass in which to
view my reflection, knowing, as she
afterwards said, that the knowledge
! should gain would only serve to aug
| ment my misery.
When at last / saw my face in a
, mirror, and viewed the ravages the
fire had wrought, was shocked be-
You'd description. / felt that the
| bitterest part of my punishment had
, just come. and that the pain I had
suffered was nothing. I was disfgured
so that looked frightful, and had no
| doubt I would remain so for life. All,
what bitter sorrow my appearance
caused me to feel! and what tears
| wept as looked upon my reflection in
the glass!
''No one will ever love me now,"
| moaned. t'No one-no one
Then l thought Of VIII Hanley, and
my grief surged up afresh, submerging
me completely How could he look on
| my face, all SCARED and drawn, with
out feeling of revulsion? How could
| he like me now, when | had become SO
repulsive that could not look upon my
| own image without a shudder?
He will not, he will not" I cried,
burying my face in my hands and pour
ing forth my grief in flow Of tears.
''He will never like me again, and |
shall be all alone, with not one friend
il, all the world.''
I thought then that I would never
have the courage to meet Will again,
for felt that it would grieve me be-
yond recovery to have him turn from
me with loathing, as I thought he sure
~ must when he saw my disfgured
face. felt that I must keep away
from him, hide from him. and never,
never let him look upon my features.
" 7 rs, So
could I live without his friendship and
his cheering words? There was a bit
ter struggle in my heart and was ex-
quisitely miserable. I knew not what
to do, and in any case there was only
suffering before me.
was still weeping when I heard a
footstep on. the stairs. I listened, and
my heart began to beat wildly. knew
that step was not Aunt Mary's, and I
could associate it, with but one person.
1t was, it surely was, ] thought, the
step of VIII Hanley. I would have fed
from the room, but that was impossible,
as he was already at the door. looked
about for a place to hide and there was
none, and ali could do was to sink
down by the bedside and bury my face
in the covers. I was resolved that he
should not see my sadly altered fea-
lures.
He came to the door and knocked. I
heard him distinctly, but made no an
swer. hoped he might so away, and
yet did not want him to do that. He
knocked again, then entered. I knew
it was Will Hanley now, because could
feel his presence. For all instant he
stood on the threshold, evidently sur
veying me in silent wonder, and unable
to comprehend the meaning of the re-
ception gave him. Finally he spoke:
Agnes" he said, ''didn't you hear
me knoclz?"
made no reply, but buried my head
deeper among the bed clothing. He
was certainly perplexed by the strange
ness of my behavior. 1t was SO differ
ent from what he had always known OF
me. Coming a. step or two nearer he
spoke again, and there was a trace of
sadness in his voice, am sure.
''Agnes, have come to see you at
last" he said. ''Have you no welcome
for me?"
Still did not answer one word. j
could not have spoken if had tried,
for was choking with grief.
''Agnes," he continued, ''are you
angry with me? I would have come
sooner but they wouldn't let me.
came to the house every day and begged
them to let me come to your room, but
they said couldn't. shouldn't be here
now only everybody is from home ex-
cept Aunt Mary, and l plead and
begged till she let me come. I've
thought Of you every hour, and wanted
to come because thought you'd be
glad to see me-
He paused as if expecting me to say
something, but maintained a strict
silence. He continued:
t'Agnes, amt you glad came? You
amt angry with me, are your
He was by my side now, and his tone
was so pathetic, SO pleading, so sad,
that it went to my heart like a dagger.
I would have given the world to have
turned my face to him and told him how
glad I was to have him there. But l