The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1895-04-26

beings in the heavens This was the
home of her passionate devotion, the
strait hard bed from which she could
endure to yield up her mortal breath.
Only the eagles and whatever super
natural beings had been lurking near
heard the clamor of wild cries that arose
in the isolated cabin at sight of her
Mother, there is something beautiful
coming that looks like Macha!" cried
one of the little sisters. "Macha must
be dead and coming from heaven to see
usp' And they all stood solemnly in
the doorway to watch the approach Of
the apparition. But when Macha's liv-
ing lips spoke to them and her out
stretched hands touched them then arose
such cries as the rocks gave back.
The advent of mercy was not an hour
too soon to bring the color of life back
to pinched faces and to put light on the
fireless hearth. A long battle with hun
ger and cold must soon have dolefully
ended had not succor arrived. Rains had
drenched the turf, and the sun had not
shone to dry it, and the potatoes had
been washed out of me earth. Macha
had known how it would be, though her
husband refused to believe in the tale
Who will take oil from the flinty stone
or honey out of the rock? The very
birds will not live in this barren world
Why should man cling to it with such
all unaccountable love?
When Macha, having ministered to
their bodily wants and comforted their
hearts with her love, lay down that
night on the old familiar bed of straw,
she had tire to remember the husband
from before whose angry face she had
fled. "He will never love me more,
thought she "He will never come to
seek me again. She tried to comfort
herself with the thought that she was
still the Macha of old and would work
for her people, but the tears poured
from her eyes, and her passionate heart
was not satisfied yet.
Next day she went about her work in
her old dress and tried to forget that
she had ever been away from her home.
Painfully she saw the misery and the
squalor Of it and planned such little inn
provements as might lie within her
reach. But soft living had spoiled
Macha for privation and toll. Hunger
afflicted her, and her limbs were wrung
with cold. She was come back to state
of things with which she was no longer
fit to strive. Wandering round the
dark water, she could not now feel an
interest in him who lives down in the
lake" the Giving man" whom she had
displeased and forsaken, whom she had
loved and made unhappy, absorbed all
the dreams of her imagination.
Her experience of better things, her
natural good taste and the money she
| had brought with her enabled her to
make the projected improvements in her
| home, yet when they were made she
had no pleasure in beholding them.
| They had cost her too dear to have the
power of giving her any delight. In sat
| isfying the fidelity of her nature on one
side she had but inflicted mortal
wound upon it on the other. The blue
| pinched look of hunger had gone from
her mothers face, the stars were no
| longer visible through the roof, yet ly-
| ing there at night and thinking about it
| all Macha felt that the pinch of cold
| and hunger had settled on her own
! heart, and that the stars of love and
| possible happiness were forever shut out
| from her life. A hundred times day
she made, in imagination, impassioned
| acts of love and sorrow and appeals for
| pardon at her husband S knees. In fancy
she uttered explanations to him, that in
reality would have been impossible to
her tongue. And she was too shy and
too timid to atten., .,t to write to him.
'When a wife leaves her husband, :"
| thought Macha, ''of course he will not
want her any more" " She blamed no
one but herself 81 behaved badly to
my mother in leaving her at first she
reflected, land badly to my husband in
| running away against his will. There
must be twist in me somehow, for
know | did not want to do wrong. P"
Sorrow stricken, remorseful, perplexed,
| she lived through the long uneyentful
| days and nights. The strength ebhed
away from her limbs and light from
her eyes. She made no complaint, for
she was willing to endure bravely in ex-
piation of the willfulness of her sins. Her
one burning desire was to see her hus-
band before she died. Yet, so self con-
| demned did she stand, she could not
summon courage to implore Of him to
| come
Sir Humphrey sat at home in the
depths of what may be truly called a
sulk. He had more than half forgiven
his willful wife and was ready to re-
ceive her should she ask to return. He
was willing to go and fetch her as soon
as she should send for him, and it was
not wonderful that he was at fault as to
her motives and conduct, for heF nature
had always been a riddle to him Why
| could she not write and tell him where
| she was? That much he had right to
expect from her. He was quite resolved
not to go in search of her, not to at
tempt to communicate with her till her
! penitent cry should be heard and till
her love should make her ask to be taken
! back to his home. He told all who re-
! quired to know, that Lady Gilbert was
/ paying visit in her native land and
then sat in his loneliness awaiting some
sign.
1t was only few weeks, after all,
since she had LEFT him and returned to
her mountains, but many heart has
been broken in far shorter time The
woman was one who in other circum-
stances would have made the happiness
and well being of those she loved, but
divided duty and fidelity rent her asun-