The daily morning journal and courier., 1894-07-21

was as fieeting as the gentle breeze
 whispering among the lines of St.
 Mary's square and the dreamy. restful close.
 As I wandered about the exterior of the massive pile another curious feel ing possessed me. 1 could not see
 where. when nor how. but an impress sion, a presentiment, or n conviction.
 seized me that right there, near me. something was to be discovered, re-
 vealed. or was to occur, which would happily effect my eccentric rnele's strangely ordered life as well as my own.
 This was so strong upon me that looked up startled into the windows of the fine old fourteenth century houses which huddled upon the close and the square, half expecting the embarrass-
 ment of their occupants consciousness of my thought. It was early and only here and there had tiny old window
 been thrown open to the light and fra grance of the morning.
 Not soul was stirring within the
 close nor in the sweet old thorough
 fares surrounding 1t. l stepped for
 ward towards the open door of the | south cathedral porch, smiling at the vagariousness of my own thoughts.
 With this smile still on my face, I turned again and looked above me at
 the quiet houses.
 Just over my head l saw maiden's face. fair as the morning. It's owner
 was leaning from Q window easement,
 bareheaded and radiant as If for a draught of the sunlight and odor of the roses and flowers. Our eyes met. She,
 too, was smiling, as though she had in-
 terpreted my thoughts as they had sent
 the glow of genial merriment into her
 cheeks and great hazel eyes. At almost the same instant a woman stood beside her. She had come for
 ward with that intangible trace of a smile in her own face which smile in | sympathetic companions always prompts, even before its cause Is known. It was a kindly face, the face of an elderly woman who had known dolor, but had conquered pain; a face
 sweet and good and patient. nodded into divine if not physical beauty out of
 consideration for others. out of the still
 ing of some life cry in her own heart, out of the brave and tender burial of self
 Some sort of swift and unexplaina- ble intelligence must have flashed be- tween us; for saw her face grow pale. She stepped back quickly, the maiden
 with her, and a half repressed excla-
 nation escaped her lips.
 "The "Tother One!" involuntarily
 burst from my own.
 If her look, her sudden paleness and her quick disappearance were not enough to force this willing conviction upon me, her words-they were so near meas I could hear her companion's s anxious expressions of soothing and alarm, dispelled all doubt. Its nothing, nothing, Grace;" she
 said. For moment-he was so like
 limit startled mel"
 And you lost your precious keep sake, the little. prayer-book that he gave you. at vespers last evening, poor dear! That made it worse, didn't it, | auntie?" I could hear the maiden com-
 fortingly reply. "Was-was he very | like the-the young. man in the street l auntie?"
 "very, very like, Grace. Oh, very very like"
 | Poor, poor auntie! Let's run right
 over and take another good look for l the prayer-book before the visitors be. l gin coming to the cathedral" This is all that saw and overheard | for passed into the cathedral at once l but there was tone in the elder wo. | mans words which I longed to have
 reach the ears of the savage prisoner
 from Ballarat. and a thrill in the mai.
 den's inquiry which stirred another member of the Dorklin family as no ca. thedral incident had ever affected him before.
 A moment later the woman and mai.
 den had cTossed St. Mary's square and | the close and entered the cathedral passing at once to the choir. From with in the west window angle, where I re.
 mained unobserved, I now and then l saw their forms fitting between the
 choir screen and the altar. They were still bareheaded, and they
 moved about the place as though hay. ing known its mellowed lights through years of loving familiarity. Their
 search had evidently been futile, for l they finally slowly retraced their steps with haltings and frequent quests through transepts and nave. Just as they disappeared the elder woman
 turned at the porch door, shaded her
 eyes and cast a sweeping, longing glance around the sanctuary; as though
 the wrath of Kirby Dorklin, conjured by my accidental presence beneath her
 window; might be fiuttering somewhere
 among the1pner shadows.
 Viewer pand. auntie. Come along;
 said the maiden cheerily. Here's papa
 now. He'll keep a sharp look out for ithe prayer-book."
 "Fes, yes, dears;" heartily answered
 a portly, merry-faced man, who at that ! moment entered the cathedral. A comfortable looking man he was
 with pompous little ways; ways that in l any other place would have puzzled one whether to set him down for 8 bishop ] or clergyman. Huge keys jingled mu- sically in his hand, and bright air of 1 vigor and bustling came with him. He trundled bravely to a little table beside the choir-screen, tossed the keys upon it., clapped his chubby hands together 1 smartly, looked approvingly from arch vauiting to nave tiling and from tran. sept to transept, as if to say:
 "Ah, everything is here, just as left it. Monuments, efhgies, brasses and alive are now ready for the busi-
 ness and recitals of the dayr' Then knew that he was the verger;