The Press., 1895-01-17

thoughts, Sir Humphrey went back alone to his English home. Pride, obstinacy and the conviction that his wife was wrong and required punishment and humiliation prevented his following her.
 The sun was setting behind whitened peaks when Macha came wearilV up the last ascent of the hills. There were the bare scanned levels, the weird rocks, the scant green patches, the dark mys- terious looking lake. "Oh, God, I have returnedP' broke from her. ''There is my mothers cabin' The fierce ache that had gnawed her heart suddenly left it, and glow of satisfaction went tingling through her veins. Strange, instinctive, unreasoning love of home and kindred that can for bid a human being to accept ease and pleasure in exchange for the suffering of want! Macha, who had been delivered over to abundance and luxury, cast them from her like broken letters and rushed forward into the embraces of her old companion and foster mother, poverty.
 This was the spot where she had danced and sung, wept and prayed, where she had been hungry and cold and full of care and had been necessary to the existence of those she loved. Here was where she had watched, half eredulous, for the fairies among the rocks, and, wholly believing, beheld with delight the procession of glorifed beings in the heavens This was the home of her passionate devotion, the strait hard bed from which she could 4~ So1I Lo,.
 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 us!" 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 freless 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 the earth. Macha had known how it would be, though her husband refused to believe in the tale. Who will take oil from the finty stone or honey out of the rock? The very birds will not live ill this barren world. Why should man cling to it with such an 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 time 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 ill 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 ''living 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 G!Ho she had but inflicted a 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 a day she made, in imagination, impassioned acts of love and sorrow and appeals for pardon at her husband $ 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 attempt 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. ''I behaved badly to my mother in leaving her at first" she reflected, "and badly to my husband in running away against his will. There must be twist in me somehow, for I know 1 did not want to do wrong" Sorrow stricken,' remorseful, perplexed, she lived through the long uneventful days and nights The strength ebbed 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 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 fa'llt as to her motives and conduct, for her 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 l. r IT..