Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1899-11-11

lastate of things often threatened) !; ana
are they now standing on the mat outside
meditating further bloodshed?
A moment s,ircharged with thrilling sus-
pense goes By, and then, not Ryan or the
cook, but a much more perplexing vision
comes slowly into the room.
1t is very radiant vision, though It Is
| clothed "a mourning garments, full of grace
| and bea,xy. Very shy, with parted lips,
and brilliant frightened eyes, but perfect
as an opening flower.
| Is 1t child or q woman? Is the first ques-
| ton that strikes Miss Penelope. As for Miss
| Priscilla, she is too surprised for thought of
any kind, too lost in admiration of the little,
gracious, uncertain figure with It's deep blue
eyes glancing UP at her with half-terrfied
| yet trusting expression, to give away to
speech of any kind.
! She Is Slight, and slim rs hazel wand.
| Her hair Is nut-brown, with red gold tinge
running through It, Her nose is adorable,
If slightly tilted; her mouth is red, red
rose, sad but sweet, and full of purpose.
Her eyes are large and expressive, but touch.
ed, like her lips, with suspicion of melan-
choly that renders them only degree more
sweet and earnest.
There is a spirituality about her, calm,
peace that shines out Of these dark Irish
eyes, and rests upon her perfect lips, as il
were lingering breath Of the heaven from
whence she came.
She stands now, hesitatng little, with
her hands loosely clasped-brown little
hands, but beautifully shaped. Indeed, all
Ter skin owes more Of Its coloring to Pha-
bus Apollo than nature intended She draws
her breath somewhat quickly, and then, rs
| though on Ia upt ,Ul In
task assigned her, says, neryously, in a low,
sweet voice.
II am Monica"
AS she says this, she glances entreaEngly
| from one cid lady to the other, with some
trouble in her great eyes, and some tears.
! Then all at once her lips trcmbe to smile,
and soft light breaks upon her face.
"lou are Aunt Priscilla" she says, turn
Ing to Miss Blake; II know you by your
dark eyes, and by your pretty hairw
At the sound of her voice the two old
ladies' wake from their abstraction.
YES, yes, 1t is your aunt Priscilla" says
Miss Penelope, eagerly, with sudden
plesjcd smile. Had the compliment beer
made TO herself she coI'd not possibly have
appeared more delights.., and certainly
would not have betrayed her satisfaction sc
| iANi oiiN ShsH, woo "Ntg
beautiful"
As for Miss Priscilla, she is smiling too
but in shamefaced fashion, and Is blush
ing warm pretty crimson, such as girl OF
seventeen might be guilty Of, listening to q
first word Of love.
She takes Monica's right hand in hers and
pats II softly; and Miss Penelope takes hel
left; and then the two old ladies stoop for
ward, and, one after the other kiss the pale
girlish cheek, and with the kiss take her at
once and forever into their very hearts.
but surely, dear child, you did come
alone"' says Miss Priscilla, presently, call
| ing to remembrance the fact that there
ought to be two other Beresfords some
where.
NO; Terence and Katherine are with
me-"
But where, my dearf"
well, think they are standing on the
mat, just outside the door," says Monica
| blushing and laughing; and then she says
rather louder, Terry and Kit, you may
come In now. 1t is all right"
Continued Next Week.)