The Yale expositor. (Yale, St. Clair County, Mich.) 1894-current, 1898-12-09
CHAPTER XIX.

| eide"
Suicide, ay, that's what they called
| tt didn't remember the word until
ye mentioned it-'suicide while in a
state OF trumpery insanity was the
jury's verdick. For nigh on six months
afore poor little Helen came into the
wurrld her mother was a hopeless
| ijiot, that ought to have been locked
up safe in 'sylum, as ought to know
we'll"
Great heavens! And this was kept
! from me-intentionally kept by that
, wretched old woman who faunts her
religion"
Charity an religion begins at home
with wan o. her kind. II she had
tould you, the chances are ye'd have
sloped off an left on her hands a
burthen she hated an had fretted
| against sore for the last eighteen year.
She saw her chance and didn't let II
slip. Who'd be after blamin' her, when
We come to think of it,"
"The madness was inherited-in the
family, l mean?" l asked, with sullen
bitterness.
mo. it wasn't. Sorry Casey ever
heard of bein' took that way before or
since"
What was the cause of it?'
Sorrow, trcachery, cruelty, an
wrong, them was the cause OF it
wrong such as 'ud drive women o my
aind by degrees to the whisky bottle
nm the county Jail, but which, in wan
nummer's day, turned poor Nora Casey
rom light-hearted sunny lass into,
NJ I've already tould ye, a broodin'
hopeless ijiot!"
Tell me all about 1t; nothing must
be kept back from me now. What was
the mothers story? Quick!'
"Aisy. aisy, I'll tell it ye soon
enough" demonstrated Molly sooth-
rgly, squatting herself on the ground,
her hands clasping her knees. Mora
was the ould vans only daughter, an
the youngest o. the family; when the
| boys all went their ways she had to
remain at home. She was me nurse
child, and as purity a girl as ye'd care
to meet in a days walk, and as like
her daughter as two peas, only brighter
an more winnin' in her ways, an
never wild that broodin' heavy look
| Miss Helen often had. She was let
grow up Jest as yer wife was, with no
more eddication or care or lookin' after
| than IL she was thrown on the wurrld
without a sowl of her own. She used
to wander about the mountains all day
long, and in course of time met a
scoundrel.
"He had come in grand yacht that
anchored in the bay. Every day he
used to meet her somewhere or other,
an soon won her heart. for he was
handsome an elegant, like no wan
she'd never met before. One day he
tould her to meet him next night at
II o'clock in st. Brigid's ruined church
beyond the point below, an that he
would have a minister to marry them,
making her swear she was to tell no
wan, for II it was known he was about
to marry a poor girl he'd be ruined for
life. But after a few months he said
he was to come in for large fortune
and be his own master. an then he'd
bring her to his home in England an
introduce her to his people.
Poor Nora believed him and went
to the abbey, where sure enough there
was a minister all in white ready to
make them wan. She kept the saycret
safe. poor sowl, an, when the cowld
rain and the bleak wind came, he sailed
away in his yacht, an after he'd been
a couple of months gone news came
wan day from Droomlcague that he
had been married over in England to
some grand lady with a lot of money
the week before. But Miss Nora only
laughed when she heard it, an didn't
seem in the laist put out, though /
watched her close, suspectin' there was
somethin' between them, though not
the cruel truth. Heaven knows.
well, Just three days after we heard
the rumor, a letter came to Miss Nora
enclosin' a check for fifty pounds, and
tellin' her that the marriage up at the
old church hadn't been a rale one at all,
that the minister was only his valet
dressed up, as he'd dare say she'd sus-
pected all along. An he was mortal
sorry he had to give her up; but hard
necessity Obliged him to marry his
present wife, to whom he had been
engaged for the last two years, an
he begged her pardon an wished her
we'll an would never forget or cease to
love his dear mountain maid. That
was all.
when she'd read it an understood
1t at last, she went ragin' through the
house like a madwoman, the letter in
her hands; an when her mother read it
too, an learnt the cruel story for the
first time, she just opened her hall
door, an wild her own hard hands
thrust the poor maddened cravthure
out into the cowld night; an babe her
never cross the doorstep of the house
She had disgraced. 1t wasn't until the
middle of the next day we heard what
had been done; an me ould man an
me, wild our hearts in our mouths, set
but to search for her. We didn't find
4 A