The Irish standard., 1893-05-06

q III ~.
cIary. Dick and Rafe c1attered their
forks and their tongues necessarily, but
to no purpose, SO far as frightening the
atmosphere was concerned 4A 1888.
! distracted.
| 81 wonder if he knows" Nora said 10
herself, glancing at her brother-in-law's
handsome serious face.
She was not sorry John did not go
back to their room with her. Ninette
was up there. She. had heard her little
feet pattering over their heads for some
time. Celeste had Struggled her into
the house while they were all at table.
| BY tomorrow the child would have for
gotten all about her visit to the flower
lady, but to-day she might make indis-
/, Greet revelations.
| Celeste's mood had changed altogether
since leaving the house. Her eyes were
sparkling, and her whole meager per-
son seemed inflated with an air of i'm
portance. Nora looked at her in sur
prise. She had anticipated at least
three days of the sulks.~
''The walk has done you good" she
said, kindly. II told you you ought to
get out in the sunlight more
i Celeste stopped in front of her, with
her hands folded over Ninette's cloak.
/; She snapped the fingers of one hand
audibly:
! ''That for walk among wild weeds
and dust. But have made discovery,
madame. Bah! it is the people who set
themselves up for saints in this world
who are the sly and underhanded ones.
I never set myself up as saint. No one
ever called Celeste Bougereaux saint. F"
She laughed aloud with malicious
glee.
! mo one will ever be tempted to call
you one until you look a little more
like one than you do at chs moment,
Celeste. Who is it that you call sly and
underhand?'
! 1t was distinctly her duty to make
+! this woman either speak more plainly
or else hold her peace entirely. She
was not prepared for Celeste's triumph
ant]y prompt reply:
ssMiss Fairbanks-the beautiful, saint
~ Miss Fairbanks, who sacrifices her
self for her recluse Of father and YET
consents to meet her lover clandestinely
in the woods. Bah! tits only saints who
can afford to run such risks
Nora had grown white to the very
lips. She abhorred herself almost as
greatly as she did the yellow-skinned,
glittering-eyed grinning wretch in front
of her for her own next words:
+: 81 want to know exactly what you
mean, Celeste, and all that you mean"
/ "With pleasure, madame. was SO
careless not to notice. until had got
nearly to the front gate OF Glenburnie,
that the child had lost one of her tur-
F., quois shoulder bracelets. I left her
! among the flowers in the garden, while
ran back to the house for it The pill
lars to that front veranda are miracles
of bigness, madame. Miss Fairbanks
: must not have seen my approach. She
was looking down upon the old man
who sells her flowers. He stood upon
the ground. heard her say, very dis
tinctly, but in voice that was not
quite steady: Tell him yes-I will come
this once And the old man answered
back: Dry bayou, remember, missy,
five o'clock Dry bayou--fve o'clock.
Twill be there, Cato, tell Mr.. ----'
Then, madame. Miss Fairbanks saw me,
and her face, the pure white face Of a
saint, became redder than those roses
she gave the child. That is exactly
: what I mean, madame, and all that
mean"
Celeste, you are devil
| 'And Miss Fairbanks is saint. That
is as have already said-come, Ninette,
it is time you took your bath. I must
wash the dust of Glenburnie from your
feet, or you too may grow up to be a
saint 49,.
! She disappeared, dragging the re-
luctant Ninette with her. Nora sat
quite still, enveloped in all the pain
and the powerlessness of a. hideons
nightmare.
| In that nightmare trance she saw, dis
connectedly, a beautiful woman sitting
+. by the roadside, a withered black hand
extending white envelope towards her
| husband, Johns hurried and unusual
afternoon departure, Celeste's hooking
face and malicious gossip.
"What then?" she asked, vehemently.
aloud.
| After long silence she answered her
+, own question:
'It would be nothing more than de-
serve.''
CHAPTER VII
:'Dry bayou! Dry bayou! Dry bayou!"
The words t~themselves to the some
what uneven textbook of the wheezy
! old clock on her mantel-shelf. She alb
| sently looked the clock in the face, and
it made wild suggestion to her. One
OF it's long black rusty hands was point
ing TO the figure nine; the other was
creeping steadily onward in the direc-
ton of the figure five. Fifteen minutes
to five o'clock.
Why might not she explore Dry Bayou
! before dark? True, she was profoundly
ignorant as to it's whereabouts, and to
inquire her way would not be practical
| Bile under the circumstances: but there