The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1909-08-07

as soon as San talk conerently. You
will forgive me, won't you, Mr.. Ware,
but there is no one elseto whom l can
go, and yet l seem to do nothing but
take up your time with my trials and
worriments."
led her out into the path again,
thinking she would grow calmer as
we walked, and she said no more until
we were nearing the house, when
she resumed in plaintive tone,
broken occasionally by half-suppress-
ed sob:
Its about Annie, Mr. Ware, and 1
did not tell you at first, for thought
could see her myself and find out
what it all meant. Ever since this
morning she has been walking up and
down her room crying and sobbing,
and this afternoon l heard her say
such dreadful things that almost
feared for her reason"
What did she say?" asked gently.
"Oh, l hardly know" she went on,
but she seemed to be calling upon
heaven to forgive her for some dread
full sin that she had committed, and
she was SO wrapped up in her anguish
that even my knocks at the door made
no impression upon her Then she
would grow more calm and only sob
and moan for time, but soon those
awful words would come again and it
seemed as II she would go mad. She
has always been subject to occasional
attacks of melancholy and when
would try to learn the cause of her
trouble she would put it of as mere
fit Of the blues.
you don't, mind my telling you all
this, do you, Mr.. Ware, for you have
always helped me out of every diff
Guilty, and 1t is second nature for me to
turn to you now. At first thought
could straighten 1t out myself, but she
wouldn't even let me see her, and
then, Mr.. Ware, since dinner I have
not heard sound from her room and
can get no response when rap. Do
you know" she whispered, touching
my arm In a frightened way and shud-
dering as she spoke, II can hardly
bring myself to say it, but 1-I-al-
most fear she has taken her ife!"
Her eyes filled with tears again,
and I lost no time in saying, reassur-
ingly:
you mustn't take such a. gloomy
view Of it, Miss Carney. There's moth
ing to worry about I am sure, and as
to Miss Weston's having taken her life
I can promise you most positively that
she not only has done nothing of the
sort, but that no such idea has ever
entered her mind" .,
II knew you would cheer me up as
you have always DONE" she exclaimed
gratefully, but how can you be so GER
tain about Annie, Mr.. Ware? Remem.
Der, you don't know her as we'll as
1 do"
Look" 1.replied, pointing to a win
dow OF Miss Westons room, and there,
in the full glow of the lamp within,
she sat at a table writing rapidly.
Miss Carney gave glad little cry
and started away toward the house,
but turned in an instant and extended
her hand, saying:
you have cheered me up, Mr.. Ware,
just as knew you would. Thank you
SO much, and-good night"
As her hand lay in mine she turned
it until its back was uppermost and
then raised 1t slightly. l had already
been sorely tempted, but this was
more than could bear, and, bending
forward, touched it lightly and rev.
erently with my lips.
Good night" she repeated, softly,
"and thank you again.
1 watched her until she had disap-
peared into the house and then turned
and walked miles and miles over the
deserted country roads, my head bowed
down and my mind nearly dazed. When
returned to the house the cold gray
morning light was breaking in the
eastern sky.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Recall Of the Wanderer.