El Paso daily herald. (El Paso, Tex.) 1881-1901, 1899-01-06
ALIEN KENNAGH.


we have nothing for beggars"
Mark Lehman, dressed in respectable
black, as became the butler in a mansion
like Eyre Hall, obeyed the order with all
the pomp and circumstance of the little
brief authority.
"Get along, you! We don't allow no.
"Marki''
The man stared. His face grew blank.
'Why, it's Aileenr'
Mark Lehman had told Aileen Kennagh
long, long ago under the shadow of the
beech copses of the old home that he loved
her.
eyes, it's me, Mark painted the poor,
weary little girl, land I've walked so far,
and I'm so tired! Aren't you glad to see
me? Won't you give me a drink of wa
ter?'' 8.
And she SINK down, weary and exhaust
ed, on one o., the rustic seats close to the
colonnaded porch.
You mustn't sit there" said Mark
hurrieily. ''You must go round to the
servants door. I-I-of course I'm glad
to see you, Aileen-as an old neighbor of
course on the other side of the water. Luz
cilla!" to "a gayly dressed lady's maid,
''this is Aileen Kennagh, from my county
at home. Will you get her glass of wa
ter?''
Something in the tone in which he
spoke to the pretty Lucilla made Aileen
look quickly up.
'Of course any friend of yours, Mark,
we'll do our best to make comfortable.
Come along, Miss Kennagh."
''All 1 want is a glass of cold water,
said Aileen, visibly shrinking. land just
to speak one word to Mark. :"
''I-I'm busy just at present" began
Lehman hesitatingly, "but'-
Aileen turned away with a chill at her
warm Irish heart
Ill t~af
then" she said. II can get drink at
any wayside spring."
And she went away hoping yet fearing
to be called back by Mark Lehman before
she had passed the great iron gates of the
gardens at Eyre Hall But Mark never
spoke. 1t would be more awkward than
he liked to contemplate being called to
account by the old love while the new in
the spruce person of Miss Lucilla Jones
stood by. And besides what could he do
to help Aileen? What though they want
ed a nursemaid at Eyre Hall? He would
not like to recommend a green girl like
Aileen.
Meanwhile poor Aileen, weary, dusty
and heartsck, had paused at a spring in
tho woods just beyond the gates of Eyre
Hall to slake her parching thirst.
AS she was about to rise-she had
drunk, scooping up the crystal drops with
the palm of her brown, shapely hand-a
voice from the wooded cliff overhead ar
rested her movements.
''Stop just minute, please. You are
the very figure l want to light up the
gloom of my landscape-just one Ininute!'
Aileen smiled and stood still, and she
saw that the gentleman artist above had a
little child in n black velvet blouse play
ing around him.
But even as she looked the little sprite
leaned one degree too far over the almost
perpendicular rock and lost its balance.
She sprang forward with a cry, but too
late.
Little Herbert Eyre lay in a senseless
heap on the soft grass close to the brook
edge, one plump white arm doubled un-
der him and brokenl
lis he dead?"
MIR. Eyre stood pale and terror stricken
beside the little creature Aileen lifted
him tenderly to her lap and sprinkled cold
drops on his marble forehead.
''No, sir, please God, but he's badly
| hurt, I'm afraid. Let me carry him. tn
| only torture him to be changed from one
| to another, and I'm strong. Is 1t far away
| from where you live?"
| mo; you can see the chimney tops from
here. 1t is Eyre Hall. 1 am Mr.. Eyre"
And so, carrying the little heir of all
those broad lands in her arms, Aileen
Kennagh once more entered the domains
whose dust she had shaken off her feet but
a brief while ago, without deigning a
| glance at Mark Lehman, who CHANGED to
| be the one to let them in!
| Little BERTHE chung to Aileen's neck and
would not leave her, and he lay in her lap
during the whole tedious process of set
ting the arm.
81 like you,'' said he, his baby brow
contracted with pain. ''Who is ou's name9'
"Aileen.'
And so at Mr.. Eyre's earnest entreaty
| Aileen staid.
And so even after the little broken arm
was well again.
| Mark Lehman met her one afternoon
| walking up from the woods when she had
| been about three months at Eyre Hall.
| How pretty she looked with her dark eyes
and rose red cheeksl Lucilla Jones had
| just thrown him over in favor of the new
| coachman. He thought remorsefully OF
| the old attachment in Ireland and decided
| he couldn't do better than to give Aileen
| a crumb of hope once more.
"Aileen," he said conciliatingly, step
| ping into her pathway as she was hurry
ing by.
"What is it, Mark?"
You're always in such a hurry, Aileen.
Can't you stop and speak to a fe1low?''
| 'Is it anything particular, Mark?"
Eyes, it is particular, Aileen. You see,
| I-why can't it be between us just as it
used? Why can't you be my sweetheart
again, Aileen?''
| lone reason is, " answered Aileen COM
posedly, "that 1 have long ceased to care
for you, Mark Lehman. The other is that
am engaged to be married."
| "You, Aileen?"
Eyes, 1. Why not?''
"Who is it tor" wrathfully demanded