The record-union., 1896-06-21

soon succeed IN making a nome fOT
Moreen; but she was an orphan, and
had a guardian, who, was given to un-
derstand by those who knew of our at
tachment would not be so easily
pleased. 1 wanted to write and ask his
permission at once, but Moreen dis
suaded me from doing so.
"He will be more likely to listen to
me than to you,'' she said. "He does not
know you as I do, dear Gilbert. We
must have patience and be brave. You
love me enough to wait little while? %
Love her! 1t was the first, the only
passion of my life. When she left Dub
lin to go to her guardian, the city which
had seemed so great, so desirable a
place, sank into insignificance.
So we parted, secretly engaged. was
destined to meet her again in a sudden
and strange manner.
With her to work for, applied myself
to my studies, and three months passed
rapidly. I received only one letter
from Moreen, written from England
She had spoken to her guardian, but
although he had not replied unkindly
he had secuted the idea of her thinking
of marriage yet. Still, he had asked
many questions about me, and this gave
me courage. She added that they were
returning to Ireland soon, but that for
the present her guardian had forbidden
her to write to me. This was a great
disappointment; but I could trust Mo-
reen. Perhaps I should see her again
soon in Dublin.
This hope was cruelty dashed from me
a from N
uncle to return without delay to Moor
Hall. He wrote that the expense of my
being in Dublin was, for the time being,
toe heavy for him. This completely took
away my prospects, and I determined to
have serious talk with my uncle, and if
necessary, to take some small position
to keep myself until I had completed
my studies. The prospect of being shut
up in Moor Hall again was not pleasant.
So 1 returned home, and never, l
think, did the house look more desolate
and uncomfortable
There was not much kindness in my
uncle's reception of me, and Brian
treated me in contemptuous sort of a
manner which / was quite at loss to
understand. Whether my sojourn in
more polished society had made me fas-
tidious, do not know; but Brian GER
tainly seemed madder and more incom-
prehensible than ever.
] took occasion to speak to my uncle
more than once, but he always stopped
me.
IT haven't time to listen to you now,
Gilbert
He always put me off SO, and I under
fIo+ n n
as he had been accustomed to do. AS
a boy I had always been afraid of him.
and now L was a man I deemed it no
light matter to go against his will.
Probably just now he had got some
great money-maling scheme in his
head, and as soon as it had failed, as
the others had done, he would listen to
rne.
So I studied and roamed about, and
passed my time as best l could. Winter
had set in early, the country was desc
iate and I was more miserable than
had ever been in my life.
1 was coming from the village one
afternoon, walking quickly, partly be-
cause snow was beginning to fall, and
rarity with the excitement of deter
lnination-for 1 had made up my mind
to have it out with my uncle at once
when peasant 1 knew very well stop
ped me.
''Save yer honor he said, 81 saw the
devil ag'in last night"
TOO much whisky, Pat. eh?''
'Shure, thin, / hadn't had enough, or
I wouldn't have seen him. He was just
the same, yer honor, just a great big
ape coming across the moor"
tits the first time I've heard of it,
Pat" I said.
"Ah. thin, it's mesef has seen it twice,
and Michael he saw it the other night.
There'll be something awful happen to
some Of US"
He told me that the devil, in the form
Of an ape, had been seen many times in
the neighborhood lately; several people
had seen him, and everybody had heard
of it. I was quite used to these tales,
and when younger, had not been free
from superstition myself. Now I only
laughed, and told Pat to be careful of
the whisky-advice he no doubt prompt
ly forgot at the first opportunity
That evening I spoke to my uncle. I
told him what I wished to do; that it
was only reasonable should wish to do
something for myself and that l could
not possibly do anything by idling
about at Moor Hall. OF course, I did
not forget to thank him for what he
had already done for me.
Instead of listening calmly to me and
talking over ways and means, he got
angry. He accused me of ungTateful-
ness, declared that I had always been
a great trouble to him, and drew COM
parisons between Brian and myself. not
merely to my disadvantage. but to show
me in about as mean light as he pos
sibly could.
I lost my temper. Good -natured as a
rule, I have the Darley temper with me,
and it certainly showed itself that
night.
"Why don't you speak the TRUTH"
he thundered. Were not good enough
for you here, now you've been to Dub
lin"
cat any rate, 1 received decent treat
ment there"
Taught to despise your best friend.
You're a pauper except for me. Do you
know that?"
And / mean to be a pauper no long
or" / returned hotly II intend to make
my way. 1 have every reason to do So"
"Reason, What reason?"
q am engaged to be married"
He laughed.
You. A pauper, Who is the
woman?"
Il do not see that IT would help mat
ters to tell you,' l answered.
'tWho is she, l say?'
''Her name is Moreen Allison, if you
must know Be careful what you say
of her ! am in no mood to hear her
insulted even by you"
For pauper, you fly at high game" :"
he enid II knoxN her Guardian DanriS