The Yale expositor., 1898-11-04
CHAPTER VT

/ stayed on in Donegal, and during
lourteen golden days caricatured the
"royal walls of the Atlantic" while
1elen sat at my feet and did the hon
eTs Of her native soil, her brown hands
Jrsy all the time mending old Dad
dy Griffin's tattered fish nets, bleach
lag for miles along the parched turf
that covered the brow of the cliff.
well, yes, it is a bit of a job, sir"
the admitted deprecatingly; but, sure,
X 1 did not do il for him, who would?
His sons are away at sea, and Milly,
his wife-she was my nurse when |
|as a baby-has gone to see her
daughter at Droomleague; and he's
60 old and blind-the creature! Who
wouldn't give him a hand?"
She netted busily, while l daubed
lazily and amused myself drawing out
CHS impulsive child OF nature, to
Nhom all the artificial beauties and
y onders of the great world beyond
that lonely wall of rock were as I'M
known as to an inhabitant of the Car
l6bean islands in the last century.
The pastime began to grow upon
n.s; l felt a daily increasing interest
in watching her dark face glowing
and Frightening, her strange eyes
sparkling, distending with wonder,
horror or delight in obedience to my
Bybaritic fancy. Then, becoming
more interested in my companion, l
telegraphed up to town for specimens
Of magical modern art, then for books,
pictures, photographs, dollhouse flow
crs, bon-bons, all of which she be-
!ieved l daily unearthed from my in
exhaustible portmanteau at Muir
phys farm. l stayed on, needless of
aught beyond the fact that l was
clearly giving pleasure-to a savage,
interesting waif, who seemed not
TO be worth any ones while to look
after, much less amuse, and at the
same time improving my own despair
ing condition, for the air of Donegal
vas certainly healing my wounded
heart. Day after day the haunting
image of my fair false love became
fainter and less painful to my sight.
| was gleefully looking forward to the
time when / could cast her from me
altogether and return free and whole
in heart to the ancestral acres. when
one morning letter from a friend at
Colworth, which commented casually
On the apparently successful innings
Lord Sandmouths son was making
With the heiress," awoke my slumber-
ing love and jealousy to life again.
Helen at once noticed my woe-be-
gone appearance, and, accepting pitt
fully my explanation of "beastly
headache" begged me to lay aside
ray work and lie down quietly in the
shade. / complied; but, soon firing
CT inaction, began to read first TO
rly self and then aloud rhymetic tale
Of love, despair, and death told ~
a fnaster-hand. The sea-stained nets
soon dropped from Helen's fingers.
the color dyed her clear cheek, her
eyes filled, then dropped, and / had
the selfish satisfaction of reducing
her to the same dismal, unhappy state
as myself
Neither OF US rallied again; and,
when We parted that night, stood on
the hill carelessly watching her re-
treating figure, and saw her dog
a painfully sensitive little terrier; the
only living thing she loved-appar-
emily begging to be told the cause
OF her unusual preoccupation, crouch
Ing, wriggling at her feet, jumping
up against her, challenging her atten-
ton by every art of dog, but in vain.
She walked along with downcast head,
her arms dropping by her sides. /
was moving after her unconsciously,
to say, to do, for the life Of zoe did
not know what. Perhaps to tell her
not to mourn over imaginary woes.
but 10 keep her real signs or real
sorrow, for the pain perhaps of love
betrayed - wantonly betrayed - like
mine. when a yellow hand clutched
my shoulder. and coarse voice ex-
claimed breathlessly-
stop, We thief o. the wurrld-stop!
What are We af.er-eh?"
turned indignA 1tly and found my
nola MI 81 IL l.