Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1902-09-25

misfortnne, pure and sin1ae
The second thought 4|owed II
closely. had seen her 1ore. She
was like someone / knoW
went forth again Iate 81 even
ing. Directly | opened zhe front
door Kirstie shot sileu<i from my
side like a arrow from th1 bow, and
/ walked out alone.
Nearby . stream taIked softly,
descending into Che darknea>; across
the valley another sent - ! louder
rush OF sound. The white owl that
hunts nightly In the woods round
the rectOry hooted suddeny aloud.
Night has no darker isles than
those deep lanes. and the hackness
0eioar ne was impaszf The
voices had just passed. but tneir
low, earnest tones returned ON the
quiet air. Further down, two gates
let . broad bar Of moonlight across
the road. / waited. After mo-
ment the figures Of Parsan Oliver
and Kate Richards crossed che light
and disappeared beyond.
The next day I departed for O
weeks tramp through North De-
Won before the autumn pause should
come to an end. Just outside Deep
leigh We met Mrs. Oliver, and stop.
ped to explain our knapsaclss and to
say farewell. But for once Mrs. o.
iver failed 10 express her disapprov-
ing amusement that anyone who could
sit in dry house. OF which the sa,-
itary history was fully known, should
prefer to walk for days through damp
places, and sleep at nights in total
ly uncertified inns. Her mind was
full of other things.
I've seen Kate ?" she said, SOL
emnly.
And is her niece going ?" ! ask
ed.
i insisted r. replied Mrs. Oil
YER. II give her no choice. in
sisted. Kate, said. I havea right
TO insist, Kate, said, I do no.
doubt You have repented. and viii
ask no particulars; but she should
never have come here. Harry Peth-
erick is engaged 10 my housemaid
Jane. and this girl cannot be fiaunt-
ed in the face OF the whole village,
| said. Kate behaved vesy oddly.
She sat and stared at me without q
word. and she's always been such
respectful woman. This cannot be,
Kate. ] said"
And viii she go, do You, think p,
| asked.
Il certainly expect her to do so.
| certainly expect to see my wishes
respected in my own parish. Ishall
be not only surprised, but annoyed,
If she does not.
We had gone some way from each
other. when suddenly Mrs. Oliver
turned and shrieked, "Stopi" l
stopped accordingly.
Il saw a likeness to someone,
she cried.
So did l." / called back.
Il can't think who it is r. shrek
ed Mrs. Oliver.
No more can |, Z" shouted back.
1t evades me-" called Mrs. Oil
yer, with an inquiring air.
So it does me, - returned, and
we pursured our respective ways.
The morning after my return, my
landlady brought in the news with
the breakfast. and delivered both i'm
the same terse, snatchy manner.
Harry Petherick was in church
with Jane last night. /" she said.
Il am so glad T. i replied.
So was Jane, said my laudlady.
And Kate Richards niece is gone. /"
For good p
"A girl like that goes nowhere for
good. She had no right to come
here, as well Kate knew. tt was
agreed she shouldn't. Still, IL only
fair to say Kate hadn' much chance
of stopping her. She came by tele-
gram"
The remark needed no explana-
ton. We are eight miles from q tel
egraph Office. and kilograms are de-
livered from six TO "a hours afterar
rival, according to the chances OF a
cart going Deepleigh way" coming
along.
Not that she was Kate's niece, !"
added my landlady.
well, who was she ?' asked at
last outright.
My landlady pointed significantly
TO the wall. Setin o worn old frame.
painted by an unskilled hand that
yet had caught something of the
grace of the little head and the shy
wild sweetness of the eyes. Kate
Richards niece smiled down NJ me.
THAT was a famous Miss Oliver
of a hundred years back, said my
landlady.