Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1894-02-09

not betray a brother even were ne known
as the murderer of the helpless.
She was in the streets before any of tho
shops were opened, before workaday Paris,
no sluggard, whatever her vices-was be-
ginning TO stir. This was sheer restlessness,
for she could do nothing without the help
of her fellow-men. AT eleven o'clock she
was in small Office in the Marais-an office
to which she had gone with Rose years ago,
soon after their first coming to Paris, to in
quire for work. 1t was registry for SER
wants, for clerks in small way, and for
shopmen. Here she asked how many cur
riers' workshops there were in Paris. She
thought there would DO several-ten per-
haps, or even twenty.
The agent gave her trade-directory,
opened it for her at page headed Cur
riers." There were two hundred and thirty
two curriers' in Paris-two hundred and
thirty-two workshops, at any one of which
the man SeriZler might be plying his trade.
Hardly strange, taking this fact into con-
sideration, that the law had hitherto failed
to touch this offender; moro especially as
the government, though ready to administer
stern Justice upon such of the Communist
assassins who came in its way, did not give
itself very much trouble in hunting down
those who had made clean off.
And then, again, the harmless Dominicans
were solitary men. There was no wife or
child, no friend or sweetheart, to avenge
them.
ut will be longer than 1 thought" Kath-
leen said to herself, as she stood at q desk
in the shadow at the back of tho little Office,
copying that long list Of names and adj
dresses.
Two hundred and thirty-two workshops !
There were names of streets which she had
never heard of-districts, suburbs, of whose
very existence she was ignorant. The work
of copying these addresses alone occupied
her for nearly two hours; she was so care
full to write every address correctly, TO be
sure Of every name.
When her task was done she ga~o No
agent two francs for the Gse Of the book,
Ink, and paper, and asked him where sho
could ,hrv :. Iood map of Paris. lie directed
boz 10 shop in the next street, where she
got what she wanted; and this done, she
went home.
Rose was singing over her baby, singing
In the sunlit window, bright with flowers.
Philip had fitted the windows with flower
boxes of his own designing-Swiss,r rustic,
what you will-constructed out of odd pieces
OF rough oak, the refuse Of his cabinet
work. Rose was the gardener, whe bought
and planted the flowers, and tended these
humble gardens day by day; and never had
bloomed finer carnations than Roses Gloire
de Mainaison yonder, or lovelier roses than
her Marechal Mel.
Durand was at work in his carpenters
shop hard by, with shcaf Of chisels, carv-
ING binl whose breast feathers seemed
ruflied with the summer wind, SO full OF
life was the chiselling. What a happy home
It locked in the July afternoonl The tide
Of blood and fire had rolled by, and left this
little household unscathed, untouched. Nay,
in the midst of death and doom tho babo
had been born, and the Trinity of domestic
love had been mnde perfect.
Kathleen sank down into chair near her
sisters signing, family in very WEAKNESS.
NV love, how tired You look ~ said Rose
tenderly. "Have you been far?'
mo; only to the Marais.'
Rose had Of late ahstained from all close
questioning of her sister. She knew that
Kathleen wandered about the streets aim
lessly, wearied herself with long walks that
seemed utterly without end or motive. But
this idle wandering might be one way cf
living down a great grief. 1t was well perhaps
to let the mourner take her own way. Moth
ing so oppressive as obtrusive S. mpathy.
Rose sympathised, and said very little.
At his wife's instigation Durand watched
the girls lonely walks on two or three oc-
casions-saw that she suffered no harm,
went into no vile quarters, provoked no in
cult; and after being assured of this, Rose
was content TO let her follow her own de-
vices.
"The angel Of consolation may be LEADING
her." she said; saints and angels know
what is best for her."
And in her hgh-strung faith as Papist,
Rose Durand believed that her sisters pure
spirit here on earth might be in communica-
ton with the souls Of that mighty company
which had gone before, that great cloud of
witnesses lowering round us, invisible, i'm
palpable-the spirits of the faithful depart
cd.
Kathleen sat silent, those dreamy eyes Of
hers gazing across the flowers to the blue
clUudless sky. The dark-violet eyes seemed
larger and more lustrous than of old now
that her face was pinched and thin; but .,
so unspeakably sad!
"Why were you not home at dinner-time,
dearP Have you had anything to eat since
the mornng?'
"a IuihA not, hdlnleSn answered I'D
sently.
And you went out 90 cnIlyl l was at
yourdoor before six, and found You were
gone. You must be faint want of food"
"Inever feel hungry. l am little tired,
that's ALL"
The boy had dropped of to Sleep by this
time Rose laid kim softly in his cradle,
and then busted herself preparing meal
for her sister.
She made some coffee in little brown
pot, which needed only handful of burn
ing charcoal to heat it She brought out
some Lyons sausage, plate OF salad, q
bunch of crisp light bread, roll Of butter
in little covered dish half-full of leo.
Everything in Roses domestic arrange
ments was fresh and clean and neat The
cloth she spread on the table was spotless
damask, washed and honed by her own
hands.
''Come, pet" she said, and coaxed her sis
ter to the table, taking of her bonnet
smoothing the soft golden hair, kissing the
pale brow, so full of gloomy thought
Kathleen took little coffee, but ate moth
ing. She sat with her eyes fixed on vacancy,
scarcely conscious Of the meal that had been
spread for her, quite unconscious Of Rose S
A.f.t