The Yale expositor., 1898-11-04

a long blue cloak, and limp white
cap framing an ugly face.
What dye mean? What business
is II of yours?" / asked. shaking Off
her hand.
"What business? Ye may well ask,
ye dirty spalpeen," she retorted bit
terly. mo, no; tell We, l won't get
out o. yer way-ye'n have to knock
me down first. I'm only an ould
woman, and yen do it easy enough;
but even then I'll hang onto We, an
dig me nails into We, until we tell me
what we've said to that motherless lit
tie crayther that hasn't sowl in the
wide wurrld to care whether She"
"Ohp interrupted quickly, all the
anger leaving my face and voice. Il
understand. You are old Molly Crit
fin come home at last"
cay, ay, an it's about time l did
come home, I'm thinkin'. Ochone,
ochone; but isn't this cruel wurrld
entirely! Oh, aren't We ashamed OF
yerself, you that calls yerself a
gentleman belikes, TOTO play scoun-
drel like that? Wouldn't her very
innocence, her folornness spake to yer
black sowl and bid yer go yer way
an laive such as her in peace?"
molly, Molly" l said gently, for
felt a certain respect and liking for
this uncouth old dame. the only friend
and protector poor Helen seemed to
have, don't let your tongue run 60
fast, if you please. Allow me word
in self-defense."
Then l explained the cause Of the
girls depressed appearance that par
ticular evening. After little hest
tation a look of relief crossed her
face, and | saw she believed me.
"Well, well. l beg your pardon
that's all l can say. l oughtn't "a
have been so hasty maybe. But
I've had bitter cause, heaven knows
to suspect the likes O. you. Not, sir
that I've heerd anythin' but good OF
you, so far. How you've come all the
way from London to tell the auld
wan bout poor Master Brian, an
give up his letters-the heavens be his
bed this night. But-but," she went
on anxiously, after a slight pause
what I want to know is, yer kline
work done, what on earth keeps We
loiterin' on here at the very back O.
Godspeed?"
81 am doing no HARM" l muttered
doggedly.
"An' / say We are. No harm to yer
self an manin' none mayhap, atheI
ways; but harm all the same to her
She was happy, contented, at laist
poor child, in her lonesome, quiet
ways, scampering about wild her dog
swimmin' and splashin' about in the
say, until you came with yer soft
voice, yer white hands, an yer hand
some face, givin' her what no wan
ever give her before, flowers, an
books, sweeties, an purity gimcracks
an gweeter still, kind words an smil-
in looks, what her poor little hearth
miss AN hunger for sore when we've
gone yer ways an forgotten her very
name. But we name no harm OF
coorse. of coorse-ah, get away with
We. man alive; yer all the same the
wurrld over, rich or poor, high OF
low-every mothers son of ye--self
self, selfr'
You're mistaken. you're mistaken
indeed, old woman" l broke in earn
estly: she's a child. mere child
I know her better than you. Shell
forget me before will her, you'll see. y
You know her better than me, who
nursed her from the cradle an he'll
mother before her." retorted Molly
contemptuously-" An l tell ~
to yer face, it's you that are mistaken
not me. l see a change in her the
last month, a great change; l seen Il
at the first moment looked at hel
last Tuesday, an I've watched heI
close ever since"
well, what have you found out?"
CTo be Continued.)