The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume] (Thibodaux, Lna. [i.e. La.]) 1875-1898, 1893-05-27

it. SO after a second or two hardly feels
1t. This little cabin is as familiar to
her as her w home-"the big house,"
as the peasants around call it.
Are you in. Biddy?" cries she, in her
clear, fresh young voice, that has now
note of angry defiance in it.
"Ah' is it you, darlin'?:' cries Mrs.
Mulvany, coming from the room be-
yond-if lit can be called a separate
room, being only divided from the
place where Molly is standing by the
dresser that holds the china cups and
bowls-the pride of the Irish peasant.
Yes" says Molly. She stands still
In the middle of the earthen floor and
looks at Bridget Mulvany. Hes comet"
says she, in a low but tragic tone.
"Save u.s. cries the former, crossing
herself. "An' what are We to do now,
Miss Mollv?'
Pm not going to stay at home to re-
ceive him, anyway" says Miss Carew,
sinking upon a three-legged stool, and
casting a determined glance at the de-
voted Bridget. Nothing shall make
me civil to him. He may be my cousin
only a second cousin, by the way
and he may BE- a modern Cresus; and
he may have the audacity to come
down here to ask me to marry him be-
cause his mother wishes him to do so;
but Oh!' She breaks off suddenly
and %clasping her hands over her knees
looks up at Bridget solemnly. Fancy
anyone doing anything just because
their mother"-with infinite scorn-
told Them
well, me dear, mothers a mother"
says Mrs. Mulvany, who is a numerous
mother herself, and perhaps is afraid
of giving herself away too much.
Patsy, beyond all doubt, is listening
behind the dresser, and Nora is hiding
under the settle. But 1 understand
ye."
If she doesn't she ought, at ali events,
as she had been Molly's nurse until Mr..
Mulvany's attractions had drawn her
out of the big nursery at Duncraig to
the little miserable hut.
Its hhard to do a mothers biddin'
when %ere's marryin' in view, an no
heart in it. But what kind is he, Miss
Molly, dear? I've always tould meself
he'll be as ugly as the divil."
DO you think l would stay at home
to see him, vel for one moment? No."
cries Miss Carew, with fine fire. "Ileft
the house half an hour before he was
expected, and came straight to you"
An where would We come, darlin'.
except to yer ould nurse?'' says Mrs.
Mulvany, aff%ectionately. "Still, Miss
Molly, dear, we should give an ear to
the mistress"
ITO mamma? Well, l shan'tw cries
the willful Molly. Nor to this hateful
Brian Carew, either. II feel quite de-
graded, Biddy, at the thought that he
has been sent down to inspect me-to
see If | am worthy-to let his royal
hlghness know if it suits him to throw
me the handkerchief. IEcan tell you,
Biddy, and l shall tell him, too, to his
face some day soon-oh! yes, very soon
that am not to be asked in marriage
in that sort of way. l wonder mamma
is not ashamed of herself"
But listen now, darlin'! Fax, the
misthress herself tould me that Mr..
Brian, the strange young gentleman
that's come, didn't know a word about
all this. An besides now, %alanna! sure
yer a fortune in yerself, let alone the
big lot O. money that will be yours on
yer fathers death-God presarve him.
with another pious crossing OF her
breast