Chicago eagle., 1902-01-25
ClIAprI,I, XII.

was over. but the old friends had not
separated. They had walked together
through the park to Miss Giifard's cot.
| tage: and now, in the bright and warm
little drawing room. they fingered rs II
they did not know how night and dark
ness had settled on the world without.
There seemed 50 much to say. and some
how nothing ever could bc said quite ra-
tionally, and without countless wild and
happy interruptions.
The wonderful change in Miss Giifard
| riveted NOra's eyes SO often that once or
| twice Mark intercepted his own laugh
| ing face, and reminded her that her eyes
were too big to dstcnd in astonshmcnt.
"Of course. you must he astonished ut
my happiness. Nora." Miss GifIard whis-
pcrcd once, guessing the thought which
made the girl 80 gladly watch her; for
| you could never realize the weight which
! for so many years has pressed upon me
In my solitude. Not of suspicion. dear
neSer that: only OF such utter bewildcr.
ment and mystihcltion. could but live
In the past, aud the past was ~ very
| dark"
ut must have been so utterly incomprc.
hcnsiblc." said Nora. gently. But no
one will let me remember 1t now" And
Miss Giffard smiled in perfect certainty
of this.
| what crowd we look herc!' laughed
the vicar. looking round the bright little
well-tlled room. "What intrudcrs we
are. Cis" he added, turning to his wAe.
II really never appreciated the real
comfort of my cottage until tonight"
Miss Giifard answered, cordially. II
A. 10 fnr inn nn 20,
| presiding. Arthur. will you spare herr"
"Katc." he whispered presently. "shc
Is as beautiful as her mother. and more
-morc--what Is itI'
you will understand by and by" she
answered. with smile.
This" said Lord Kcston. standing to
take his tea from Nora. and looking round
with rather girlish dimncss in his
| eyes. "is just my ideal of a home.
| shall never be able to lit myself into any
position Of ponip or state again. Mark,
you will have to relieve me Of all that"
But | don't understand it," observed
Mark. just rs coolly as IL his face be-
| traycd nothing of his immcasurable hap
piness tonight. I'VE have villa iu
Florence. l believe. to which We retire.
every man In our family. on his marriage.
That's all l know of our future"
II think I shall settle myself there for
u time" returned the elder man. laugh.
ing u little; "and then I shall have u
chance Of seeing you and Nora during
] your travels. Judging from some stray
remarks OF yours. Poynz. those travels
| are to extend into u remote country. but,
| at one time or other. you must needs visit
Florence; and you shall find me there.
with others Of our old friends. too, | hope.
But first he went Oh, with growing
carncstncss, II must see the Irish home
Of my-my wife and child; the home
where each Of them grew up to girlhood."
"Oh, father. ycs!" whispered Nora. still
close at his side. I'VE will go to Tra-
veere. And 1t will seem so different, now
I know my mother lived there. solitary.
too, as l did. And you will see all the
old"
| They were unshcl tears that stayed
the words to Ccla's great dismay: for
how, she thought could Nora care for
that grim, comfOrtlcss old house, when
she could live now In such a home as
Hcaton Place? And how, in this peace
ful. pretty valley, could she think ten
derly Of that chill, bare bog?'
| "Nora," asked Mark-she had retaken
her seat at the tea table, and he had
sat down near her, leaning forward to
address her very earnestly-'may l ask
Mr. Pennington to marry us ut Kilver?
| Will you not like to he in the old church
you have known so well. and by the
old friend of whom you are so fond!'
| 'rhere Is no trouble in that" said
Nora, simply, but with the brightest.
/ asv,tft lttSlN L., .,n,t
to say. Mark"
"Thank you. thank you. my own love-"
he whispered, from his full. glad heart.
ut is what have long been wishing"
Looking like a speck on the wide
stretch Of bog. II curious machine was
creeping slowly along the road between
Kilver Vicarage aud Trnveere; aud but
for the fresh and girlish laughter which
proceeded from II now ana then. and its
rather frequent pansts. 1t would have
worn somewhat funeral aspect.
Don't you feel exactly like old times,
Mr.. Poynz?"
| Nora asked this question gravely, as
she sat, very upright and content. on her
side the jolting old car from Traveere,
and looked affectionately down upon Bo.
rak.
| III old times feel very comfortable, as
n rule, and--progrcssive." returned Mark.
from his side Of the car. "my feelings re-
semble them exactly"
| II am afraid" said Nora, her eyes wan.
dering thoughtfully on beyond Boraks
ears, "thnt | don't feel so changed as
as any one else would be, by all | have
learned and felt since you drove me here
before. Mark. ! feel So happy, and-and
quite young again; yet ought to be very
different"
| "You ought" returned Mark, In his
leisurely way, "to he II grave and elderly
party with mission. And you ought
never even to smile; yet | have lately
heard you laugh just as il you were still
the same Nora to whom | gave"
"Why did you stop!' she asked, sim
ply. Were you going to say to whom
You gave such good advice that day"
That" assented Mark, with gravity.
us naturally my predominant reminis'
cence of that day"
| "fou are not altered either-now," said
Nora; and she could not help that beau.
tiful, soft light coming into her eyes, as
she turned them upon his face.
Nora had so much to say to her old
nurse, especially about that pretty home
which awaited her in England, and where
she would have Micky with her. that
when Mark showed her how Borak, feel
| In, hi,naalf auftlciantl, ,or,,oho1 uo.