The Wichita daily eagle., 1897-09-17
The Little Nun,
(From Temple Bar. In four parts.)
PART "

(From Temple Bar. In four parts)
PART ".
| For a few moments neither spoke. Por-
| tiers were seiz.ng upon boxes, passengers
exclaiming, gesticulating, misunderstand-
| ing, following after them. Then he broke
| out hoarsely: Ursula, I can't leave you.
| / cannot-don't ask me. Look. beloved!
| love you SO well will give up everything
my father, my country. I will not go
home and you, dearest-you will leave your
| convent YOU"
She flung out her hands wildly with a
gesture of horror.
THE good God forbid" she cried SOL
emnly would we do such grievous sin?
All, monsieur, monsieur, this is not love.
But no, no; you did not mean it," she said
soothingly. a sort of divine motherliness
coming into the sweet voice. "It was but
the thought of one short moment. 1t VIII
be pardoned you. Yes, yes, 1 come"--this
to the porter, who was pointing to small
hair-box beside him. Monsieur r'-she
stood before him with dropping head and
hands clasped below the long sleeves-t
is the farewell l have sinned; have done
evil; 1 Will repent all my life. II Will
pray ever for your soul" She raised her
face and looked up at him, the grey eyes
wide open-a long, steadfast look. Sudden
ly her beautiful lips trembled, and before
he could stay her she had bent with a
quick, spasmodic movement and laid them
on his hands. Then she turned, waving him
from her win all her slight strength, and
passed out of sight
Next instant Aldricks saw under the
light Of the vile oil-lamp the face of his
fellow-man. Involuntarily he held out his
hand as to some creature in deep dis
tress. and the other mechanically grasped
it
Hard lines" mutered Aldricks.
"Oh, d-damn Rome!" said the young En-
glishman with sob.
IF you like" said Aldricks but don't
damn doing right"
To find a man N London whose address
YOU don't know is about as difficult mat
ter as to seek a needle in a haystack. Al
dricks had painfully made proof of this
III a prolonged search for a Capri artist
friend, and at the same time he also came
to realize the other truism that the chance
acquaintance turns up in the most unex-
pected places.
1t was in London two years later-Lon-
don IN Hyde Park, and in the early month
Of June when, If man be in good heart
with himself, no place can be pleasanter.
There was q crowd Of carriages. All the
gay world was pfuming and preening IT.
self in the sunshine that lovely afternoon.
Aldricks was not in very high spirits; as
a matter Of fact his nature leaned more to-
wards melancholy than joyousness, and he
was sitting under the trees digging around
holes IN the ground with his stick and
wondering what other stone-hguratNeiy
speaking-he could upturn to find his lost
friend. He was not quick at making
friends, but once he did he hated to lose
sight Of them, and this one had been
horribly unfortunate of late. The artist
feared for him, he scarcely knew what. 1t
clashed with the state of his thoughts to
hear a young man leaning over the rail-
ing In front of him, exclaim to his COM
panion:
'Awfully lucky dog, that young Berkely!
See him with his wife?''
And who may young Berkeley be!
inquired the other languidly.
"Berkely of Yorkshire. Don't you know
him? The iron mans son who died some
time ago, leaving a mint OF money the
elder son d:ed shortly afterwards, and this
fellow came into it all. Awfully lucky
chap"
And wha's young Berkely done TO De
SO favored of the gods?"
Nothing, nothing in the world. He was
no end of a wild young fellow. and sowed
his wild oats out in Africa-any amount.
Seems TO have left them behind him,
though. He came home when his father
was dying and was awfully glum for
long time after; made sort of reciuse
out of himself, don't you know, and
wouldn't go anywhere But now he's come
out again and lately married an awfully
charming girl. Lucky dog! Oh! by Jove,
there they are. See that carriage coming
up?"
Aldricks had stopped digging holes in
the ground and was glancing before him
carelessly enough. Just then there was
block of carriages, and one drew up op-
posite him. A young man seated in it,
laughing and talking with an extremely
pretty girl. turned his head le:surely and
for a moment their eyes met
He was big young man, sunburnt, with
a fair moustache, and dressed in the ortho-
dox frock-coat and tall hat-one very much
like a thousand others in England, and
seeming in the gay sunlight supremely
happy and content. But suddenly the
smile died out of his blue eyes: vague,
puzzled look of recognition came In its
place. He started, and half lifted his hand
to his hat
who is It, Charley?'' said the lovely girl
beside him. ANY one 1 know"
mo, Mabel; it's only a man I fancy
have met somewhere. I can't quite think
where"
The carriage moved on. Aldricks won
dered at that moment if they had both
thought OF the little nun.
A H. BEGBIE.