The Irish standard., 1915-10-23

Duncan Fox was on his way to the
Coyne home, but he was not walking
with his usually swift step. He came
along, a haze of thought between him
and the world. So distracted was he
that he nearly fell over an Irish girl
wheeling q baby carriage. She turned
to inform him that the pavement
seemed large enough for him to pass
without killing her young charge,
when she noticed who he was and
checked her tongue. God bless hint"
she said In her heart, as in passing
he apologized.
II know she will understand better
than any other woman" he cogitated.
"She is SO different from any other
woman ever knew, yet find it
hard to tell her. What q soul she
has, that girl! What great things she
would do, were she mani"
He threw open the gate, but not
before he had seen Margaret's smil-
ing countenance at the window. There
was no vanity in the glance she cast
at the mirror; she wanted to look
composed. She quickly plucked the
rose from her hair, though it looked
we'll in its golden bed, and just as
swiftly pushed it down into a vase.
She gave Duncan her hand. He
pressed her fingers as brother might
have done.
"Sit by the window there, Duncan"
she said, opening the conversation as
she always did. He was the better edu-
Gated, she the better conversationalist
Il want you to have view of the
roses; you are fond of them"
He noticed that her chair was drawn
some distance from his, and he won
dered If that had been done on pur.
pose; such thing had not happened
before during the days of their court
ship.
II have been thinking of you all day,
Duncan"
There was a minor chord in the
music of her voice, but he failed to
notice it.
Il am fiattered; literary women,
story writer's in particular, usually
have other and worthier heroes to
think about" he replied, lightly, not
noticing her earnestness.
"How long were you an Episcopal
ian Minister" she asked.
"Six years."
"Six years! what a long time in the
sanctuary! God must have been
pleased with you, then, seeing how
earnest and sincere you were."
"You emphasize then; what about
now?"
"You must be very much accustomed
to the cassock," she went on dreamily,
not needing his question. "You took
the Lord for your portion of the in
heritance, Duncan!" The tone was
what mother might have used, and
he glanced interrogatively into her
flushed face. "Will you ever be happy
outside the sanctuary"
There came to his mind an old
story he had heard of a maiden who
exposed her bosom for the assassin's
knife that she might save him whom
she loved. He made no reply.
Duncan, if l were to die, would you
marry?"
"No, Margaret"
II thought not. When I told you
that had resolved not to marry, be-
cause I wanted to devote all my time
to literature, but that you came and
made me break my resolution, you
said words which run in my mind now:
I had decided to live a life of celibacy
till met you, Margaret, for God and
the church should then have all my
attention. Those words you said
when you were not a Catholic. Dun
can, you have vocation to the priest
hood; God calls you there; something
tells me SO. Obey that CALI"
She arose, majestically, and glided
to his side. He took her outstretched
hand, and she slipped their engage.
ment ring into his, but he could say
nothing Had she read his thoughts?
How God speaks to hearts!
This stuffy ROOM" she said, with
studied Impotence. What a peerless
L octrasa Sho x,asl MCox,ao