The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1892-08-13
CHAPTER XVI.

For long time stood gazing blank
ly at the door through which Mr..
Bernard had passed from the room.
was completely dumfounded by his
strange behavior, and all my senses
seemed perfectly paralyzed. Over and
over asked myself: "What did it
naean?'' but got no answer. was lost
in a maze of wonder surprise and
trouble.
els it wrong to love the dead, or the
living counterpart Of the dead?''
That question came back to me all at
once and it fell on my heart with a ter
rible blow. 1t stopped it's action, and
for an instant it stood still, ceasing ITS
vibrations entirely. What did he mean?
What could he mean?
He loved nv dead mother was her
living counterpart lie loccd me. Oh,
Heaven. understood his meaning but
too we'll. l would have doubted it it
could, but there was no room tor doubt.
NV head swan and would have reeled
and fallen had not clasped the table
for support. A pain, sharp and excru-
Chatting, went through my heart. What
should do? What could I do?
sat down and, resting my head on
the table, tried to reason, but could
not. Ny mind was completely wrecked
for the moment, and all my faculties
lay buried beneath a surging mass OF
grief and fear. It was as if L dam had
suddenly broken, letting the accu1nu-
lated waters of a great lake pour over
me in % mad, swir]ing rush. could
only gasp and struggle, and submit to
be washed down again when / at
tempted to rise.
At last recovered my reasoning pow
ers little ! heard the clock down
stairs strike the hour, and was sur
prised, but not startled, that it had
grown so late. 1t WAS then three
o'clock i'll the morning, and since ten
had remained stupefed, and practically
oblivious. had not noted the flight OF
the hours, had not heard the stroke Of
the clock, and had not seen the clear
full moon as it crept down the wide
sweep Of western sky. had seen and
heard nothing. My brain was turbu-
lent, rolling sea, and through it, like
the singing of the waves, there ever
ran one refrain and that was this:
II love the counterpart OF the dead"
/ arose and walked the floor for an
hour, then threw myself on the bed
and slept Exhaustion had conquered
and brought rest and peace. I slept
sound1y and when awoke the sun was
shining into the room and knew it
was lese. 1t did not take me long to
decide what to do, and arising dressed
and went down to breakfast. / resolved
to 80 to the office and work as usual,
continuing my relations with Mr.. Ber-
nard as though nothing had transpired.
NV mind was calm and collected
when I awoke and / reasoned easily.
MY position was good one, I thought,
inasnuch as it enabled me to live by my
own exertions, and if gave it up re-
allied how di fhcult l should find it to
secure another through my own efforts.
Then, remembered, Mr.. Bernard was
a. connection and ought not to have
any fear of him: 1t was true he had
done and said things that I considered
improper, and even shocking, but was
inclined to excuse him now, believing
that he had lost control Of hirnself for
the instant, and that in his calmer mo-
ments he would regret his conduct
most sincerely. I reasoned, too, that
had but to maintain my own proper
conduct, deporting myself toward him
as prudence demanded, to be safe from
any designs he might have. My reason
ing may not have been very philosoph-
ical, but it must be remembered chat /
was ignorant and unschooled in the
ways Of the world and the arts of man.
When came down to breakfast my
altered, haggard looks attracted the at
tention Of my landaady, and all during
the meal she kept her eyes on me
with a curious, inquiring gaze. Her
action embarrassed me, sending a
crimson glow to my cheeks and causing
me to cast my eyes down. When l was
about to leave 81, table she detained
ne, saying: a.ss9 .ss III. sTss'7'-''
s'You are not looking well this morn
ing, Miss Owens. Are you sick?''
"No, ma'anA" replied, a little short
", wishing above all things to be
spared any questioning just then.
"You are looking real peaked, I'm
sure" she continued, ''and one would
think you spent a bad night. think
you must either be sick or troubled. I
hope you have had no bad news?"
mo, ] have not, answered.
'sI'm very glad" she said. 81 saw
you had a letter last night, and didn't
know but you might have had unpleas-
ant news"
I assured Mrs. Bond, my landlady,
that she was wrong in her surmises,
and wishing to escape any further con-
versation on the subject of my appear
ance, made another effort to leave the
room. Mrs. Bond, however, was one
of those curious, prying old women who
are not satisfied until they. get to the
bottom Of every body Is secrets and who
have no respect for anyone's rights and
L. -