The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1914-01-10

nlgn-n6Gl0Q SnO0S-paLC6r6Q DOWN the
garden walk.
The Dona Ysobel pursed her lips and
shook her head. She did not approve
of Chubbins What name, she
thought, for girl! The mad Ameri-
cano whom her own little Teresa had
married-and a Protestant he was,
too!-would call her nothing but that.
Oh, that mad, bad Americana! Dead
now, of course, and the silly Teresa,
too; both of them lying, perhaps, in
unconsecrated ground, not far from
the wicked city of San Francisco.
And here with her was the girl who
did not care for her beautiful saint
name and insisted upon being called
-Chubbeens!
Very slowly, her arms filed with
parcels, the girl stepped upon the YER
andah. The corner of a yellow en-
velope protruded from the bosom of
her white MILDLY blouse. The Dona
Ysobel eyed it sternly. The girl
flushed as she stopped to put down
the parcels and when she arose the
envelope had strangely disappeared.
There is nothing" she said slowly,
nothing for you, Grandma"
The Dona Ysobel frowned again. So
often, so very often, there was nothing
for her. Chubbins saw the frown and
went on:
''The Peters boy has sent me some
flowers and Mr.. Drake can tell his
| hos hnv nf nQn6v
Then here's book haven't opened
it yet, but guess it's book; and the
girls over at Harloe's have sent the
incest auto veil; and"
"And the letter, Chubbeens?"
The bona YsobePs tones we're hard
and metallic. The pretty face of
| Chubbins was once more suffused and
her red, full lips quivered.
Just the old butchers bill from
| Concord, Grandma. Here"
Il mean the yellow letter." said the
Dona Ysobel Jelly. "The yellow letter
in your"
The Dona Ysobel finished her sen
tence with stately gesture. She
could not bring herself to say the hated
word, blouse.
Chubbins threw back her head anG
clasped her hands behind her back. A
CLINT came into her black eyes.
"That is a private letter, Grandma.
The fingers of the Dona Ysobel were
rigidly interlocked.
"Private!" she repeated, her eyes
half closed. "Who wrote it?''
Chubbins paused ever so slightly be
fore replying:
'Tom."
The corners of her mouth drawn
the Dona Ysobel arose.
"Have not I your own grandmother
told you to have nothing more to d.
with that worthless gringo?"
But, Grandma, Tom is a nice boy
did not Father Garden say so? And
anyway, you have no right to call hin
a gringo For that matter, I'm grin
go myself. There!"
And then came the tears to Club
bins eyes; and in her vexation sh'
stamped a pretty foot-once, twice
thrice-and dashed into the house.
LIE LUNA L ulu lOI
; the girl to return, did not make fulfil
threats, did not break into intemperat
language did not fall upon the dis
carded parcels and throw them abou
the verandah. None of those thing
was possible to daughter of thu
Arguello-y- Mascarenas. She felt-oh
unutterable things; but with outward
calm she majestically stepped off tn
verandah and began slowly to pac
the garden walk; and never had sh
walked more like queen.
Tom. Tom Hurley. How she de
tested the fellow! How she hated tn
sound of his name! He was the NAL
who had the insolence to want t.
marry Chubbeens. He was a nobody
and in the veins of her grandchil'
flowed the noble blood of Spain. Wit
all her faults, with all the sins of he
parents upon her, Chubbeens was o
the line of the acknowledgements
She was the last, indeed, of the prouc
if unfortunate, house.
The thoughts of the Dona Ysobe
were bitter thoughts. The child-elgf
teen years of age, to be sure, bu
still a child-had been guilty OF def
ance, disobedience, disrespect. Ho'
like her mother, Teresa, she ha
seemed as she stood with her hea
up and the tears in her eyes an
stamped her foot-three times! Tn
, girl had been beautiful in her ange
l -heautifl1l and had
Beautiful and bad! That was VIVA
Chubbeens had been, what Chubbeen'
mother had been, what, alas, so man
4 of the ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS had beer
And most of their beauty had bee
. lowered among aliens, and all OF tnel
$ badness had been visited upon tn
Dona Ysobel.
What, the Dona Ysobel asked he
e self, had she done to deserve it? Eve
|. since the long-distant day when tn
gallant Don Diego had been lowere
into his grave over the hill, she ma
striven to be forgetful of herself. Sh
: did not want to be selfish. She ma
been careful, oh, so very careful, ne
! to pamper herself, not to live for ne
y self. Her children, her cousins, ne
u D1n