The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1893-06-03
man home with him to his fathers
funeral? She would think him brute.

man home with him to his fathers
funeral? She would think him a brute.
He was not good at lies. He was sick
of shams, and of trying to parry fate's
spiteful thrusts. Should he say to her,
with blunt truthfulness, that this beard
less boy, from whose cashmere trou-
sers-pockets a Pair of ugly handouts
were permitted to obtrude, was his
keeper?-that he was prisoner of the
law, wanted for the murder of his wife,
the little Ninette's mother? He could
fancy his high-bred lda's horror and
disgust.
1t would not be an easy thing to do.
It grew harder even in the bare con-
temptation of it, as each revolution of
the wheels brought him closer to the
home whose shelter he had spurned in
his hot boyish resentment ten years
ago. 1t grew to the proportions of a
CHASTITY irnpossibility, as the crunching
of the wheels on the graveled drive
brought to the open front door of Glen
burnie touclingly helpless group.
i. Ida, as tall and stately as some pure
white Easter lily, Ninette, his own lit
tie daughter, all a-futter with faunt-
ing ribbons and crisp embroideries,
clinging to Ida's black draperies, and
old Dido, the old nanny who had
rocked. him to sleep in her withered
arms so many, many times in the long
ago.
They were waiting for him, watching
for him-glad of his homecoming. eager
for his home-staying.
He groaned aloud, and dropped his
head upon his breast.
sis that all there is of them?" Moore
asked, looking out at the small feminine
group.
''That is all"
s'No men folks but you?'
I! "None"
"It's hard lines. no mistake. wish
it wasn't me that had to take you away
from them again tomorrow. Hanged
if I ever had rougher job put on me. :"
| sit is creditable to you to feel so. I
am obliged to you"
ooh, as for that, it's natural to sup.
pose that anybody in my line of bust.
ness is brute; but if you can think OF
any way in which can soften this con-
sistently with my duty, command me-"
II cannot think at all,'' said Sibley,
leaning back among the moth-eaten
cushions of the old family coach, with d
groan of helpless wretchedness.
II have itl'' said Moore, briskly. Il
am man prospecting for land. You
kindly gave me lift this far Your
man puts you out at the front door and
drives away with me. He can hide me
; somewhere. The day after the-after
the"
1.-The funeral is set for tomorrow"
said Sibley, steadily. ''The boat that
brought us up returns from Vicksburg
tomorrow night. will be there
II will trust you! I never felt surer
of a man since I went into the bust
ness
THANK YOU
They were at the front door Cato
drew up with a jerk. Sibley let him
self out, and. giving Cato an order in a
low tone, turned slowly and hesitating-
" towards the little group in the door
! way.
Moore's device had given him respite
only-a very short one at that Ida's
arms were about him Her wet cheek
lay against his Dido's sobs were ring
ing in his ears. Ninette was standing
shyly aloof, looking on with grave won
der at this dismal scene of welcome
"Auntie!'' she spoke presently, sharp,
rebuking words, ''you said my papa was
coming to make us all glad and happy.
He has come, and you and nanny Dido
do nothing but cry and wipe your eyes
on your handkerchiefs. Is that my
papa2''
Sibley put Ida away from him and
turned towards the small fault finder.
He held out his hands