The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1915-10-23
Continued from page 60
THE MEDAL OF GRACE.

They chatted, spiritedly yet guarded
ly, on all the religious topics of the
day. Resale inwardly blessed Mar
garet Finn and her day nursery-it
was such an absorbing thing to talk
about-and Isabelle repeated. word
for word, little story she had heard
at Mass. She listened to the story
because she had to, silently Tuning
because the priest told it at Mass
and with all his accustomed man
nerisms and long pauses. Now she
strove to remember the tale and un-
consciously adopted the teller's voice
and style in her endeavor to bring
out the point. They grew really en-
thusiastic over the retreat. Before the
short half hour was over they had
both made their plans. Then came
the real news, told without bushes
for Isabelle belonged to q class where
blushing was a past art-yet shyly
for all that.
When Rasalie entered the car,
homeward bound, she decided to buy
Js Il
would be painted in colors and it
would stand upright in her dressing
table. She stopped at the first store
that sold religious articles and made
her purchase. The store was near a
church. What was more natural than
to stop at the church and pay visit
to the Sacred Heart in real sub
stance? Gay Rosalie Clayton found
to her delight that it was not so diff
ficult to pray. An hour slipped by
and still she knelt, her head bowed
low-her heart with God. She ar
rived home full of peace she had
not felt for many a day. Bobby was
home before her. He was lying on
the lounge in their sitting room, his
eyes blurred and his breathing heavy.
Rosalie's heart sank as she saw him
and her peace fed. In her magma
ton the future spread in dark pic
lures: Bobby a disgraced drunkard
and an outcast; she dependent. These
thoughts had depressing effect, and
removing her wraps che dropped into
low chair and wept unrestrainedly
while Bobby, now awakened, gazed at
her in dismsy.
After her tears came indignation
and scorn. In scathing tones Rosalie
assailed her erring spouse, whose
dismay fast changed to bewilderment.
Rosalies scornful words failed to
pierce Bobby's befudd1ed brain. He
felt drowsiness creeping over him.
He heard two or perhaps three angry,
unintelligible sentences, and. nodding
his head, he slept again. In sorrow
Rosalie gazed at the sleeping form,
and with motherly solicitude, in spite
of her hurt, she covered him over
with her warm coat, and, drawing the
blinds, withdrew from the room, and
Bobby Clayton, sleeping dreamed.
Somehow the club which was al
ways alluring seemed unattractiye.
He stood outside the door, and, idly
twirling his cane, reflected. Perhaps
the three hundred he had lost the
night before in the little room on the
third floor rear caused his. depres-
O1Ous 1GA, IHOu6AAb AC1 ny IOIuIuIu6
now while his brain was clear he
might get it back, and more-but the
risk was great, too great with Ro-
sale to be considered. He wandered
down the steps and to the park. 1t
was very early in the morning. The
birds were just beginning their first
shrill chirps and the sun shed its
yellow rays through the trees. The
busy city had not yet awakened. The
air was pure and all was quiet The
park was deserted, except for those
homeless ones who rested nightly on
its benches until a policeman's gruff
voice or the suns bright rays sent
them slouching away. Breathing deep
" and still undecided on his chances
of regaining his lost money, Bobby
continued his stroll. On broken
bench, removed from the park proper
and partly hidden from the road by
shrubbery, was man. He was ly-
ing face downward on the bench, as