Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1892-06-10
A LITTLE IRISH GIRL.
ny "The Duchess.s
CHAPTER XI-CoNrNUED.

CHAPTER XI-CoNTINUED.
Nonsense! He has evidently only
just come"
II won't GO home with him." says
Dulcinea in choking tone; IL won'tr'
Don't be foolF' says her cousin,
angrily. "You shall go with him! IL
will kill all talk. You must be mad
TO refuse such chance OF doing away
with your folly" He takes a step for
ward.
.Andy!"- But he has
escaped from her now. and has
reached Anxetel. There is word or
two, and then both men return to
where she is standing. feeling moro
dead than alive.
Here is Sir Ralph. Dulcie," says
Andy, in a rather nervous fashion.
"By the way, you are driving, Anke-
tell-ehe Could you give my cousin
liftP'
with pleasure"-gravely.
You pass our gates. you see, and
er-we-we'd no idea when we started
for our walk, that er-er-we should
be so late. Found ourselves, you
know"-the falsehood sticking horri-
bly, in his throat-"at the station be-
fore we knew where we WERE"
IL understand" quickly. 1t cuts
Anketell to the heart to hear the lad
lying thus; and such fruitless lies
aud delivered so haltiHgly, so lovingly!
eyre left tonight by the train"
says Andy, with highly nervous.
miserable laugh. "She-we---"
al see," says Anketell. hurriedly.
''You came to see him otfP--very nat
ural."
lisa long walk home for Dulcie,"
says her cousin. more haltingly than
ever. "But if"
''Of course l can give your cousin a
seat" says Anketell. He addresses
himself entirely to Mr.. McDermot
altogether ignoring Dulcinea This,
and something In his tone strikes a
chill TO Andy's heart; but he compels
himself TO go through with the sorry
farce. AS for Dulcinea, kind OF cold
Kecklessness has come to her that does
duty for courage. Her late tears lie
frozen in her eyes. Her glance is
fixed immovably On the ground be-
meath her; yet, in spite OF that, she
knows that ARketell has never once
deigned to glance in her direction.
Thank you," says Andy dihidently.
"And-"-pausing-''if. when you
came to eur back gate-if you were to
drop her there, it would be better
Will youp You see, If the governor
knew that-sr-I- had kept her out
so late, he-he'a be down on me. It's
all my fault, dye see-every bit of ii. F"
II quite see." says Anketell grave
ly, laconically, as before. ''By the
bye can give you a seat, too"
'.No. thanks! I'd rather not-really.
1 shall enjoy the walk" The poor
boy is choking with shame. and feels
that to accept even so trifiing favor
as seat home from the man he is
trying SO deliberately TO deceive
would be more than he is equal to.
'Its a lovely evening, and nothing Of
walk"
He waves an adieu, and turns aside;
but seeing him go, Dulcinea wakes
from her stupor.
"Audy" cries she wildly, fever OF
entreaty in her whole air; ANDY.
come with me- Comet"
But he is deaf to her entreaties. He
shakes his head, and hurries out into
the darkness OF the night beyond.
"Pll bet TIL be home before your
he calls out frem somewhere-they
can no longer see him. "It's mile
to walk. but three 10 drive; that gives
me good chance"
1t is three miles indeed!-three Of
the longest miles Dulcinea has ever
driven. There are moments when she
ellis herself that it cannot take al
Jhese hours to come this short, short
la n ALL H..
made mistake aud turned into some
unknown road. 1t is so dark by thi
time that TO see where she is is impos
sible.
And yet il is fine night, too-n,
sign Of rain or storm. Certainly the
moon is lying hidden, and the stars are
apparently forgetful OF their duty; bu
the wind that flies past Dulcinea's
cheek is singulariy mild and kindly
or the time Of year. Everything
seems hushed; no sound arises Z,
break the monotony of the silenc,
that has fallen on her and her com
panion. Now and again a rustling il
the wayside branches, u huttering o
wings, a sleepy ''Cheep-cheep." betra,
the presence OF those ''smale foule:"
That slepen ale night with open eye,
according TO Godfrey CHANGER; bu
other noises are there none.
Shame, fear. fatigue, are all keepin!
Dulcie dumb. Oh, TO be home in her owl
chamber. sale from prying eyes, SAT-
In any place where she may weep on
her very soul in comfort Oh, thi
terrible, terrible drive! will 1T neve
come to an on p And he-why is ht
so silentp Can he know? She start
with herself as this thought occur
to her, but quickly filings it off will
one as grim. No, q thousand time
no. II he knew, he would not be hers
with her now. He would not condo
lend to sit beside her; he would cas-
her of. Oh, If no ever does hear OF i
what thenP But IL he knows moth
ing. why does he not say something tc
her? Again the first torturins doub
sets In.
As for Anketell. he has even forgot
ten he is silent, so busy are hi
thoughts with all the past miserabl,
hour. Again he seems TO be standing
In the dusky corner of the station