The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1917-04-28
MARY MAGDALEN'S FUNERAL TEARS

For two days the rain had dripped
drearily from the overcast heavens.
On the morning of the third it had
ceased falling. There were tender
glints of promise in the sky" and a
delightful breeze made the spring air
fresh and invigorating.
The party of four young people, who
were travelling westward in the COM
Portable coach of an express train, had
managed to pass the time pleasantly,
despite the disagreeable weather.
Their eyes had grown accustomed
to dun sedges and rain-soaked fields.
But as the forenoon advanced, patches
of azure sky peeped between the riffs
in the lowering clouds and finally
burst of dazzling sunshine transfigur-
ed the world.
At the same moment, change ap-
peared in the landscape. The train
rounded a curve, and silvery lake,
bordered by perennially green trees.
and distant glimpse of mountains
came into view.
Ol, HOW uSllSuIlul, lOW
ing,
From this drear thraldom to be
free"
Miss Vivian Courtney sang the oper-
attic selection softly, with a musical
ripple in her rich, contralto voice.
Then she said, gaily: I'VE are at last
emerging from the desert, and the
sunshine is welcoming us into the land
of promise Are not the fates propi-
tious, Geraldine?"
Miss Courtney turned to her COM
panion, a young woman becomingly
attired in a blue travelling gown. She
was rather tall, graceful in figure, and
her face might have served as model
for the American type of beauty. She
had regular features, clear, expressive
blue eyes and wavy brown hair, AL
together Miss Geraldine Tremayn was
very fair to look upon.
She glanced up from a book she
had been perusing, smiled slightly,
inclined her head and resumed her
reading.
Vivian, dark eyed and vivacious,
chatted pleasantly with the two young
men sitting opposite. One was her
brother Chester, the betrothed of Ger
aldine; the other, Mr.. Forbes, an old
friend. The four were going to visit
Mrs. Courtney, who few months be-
fore had gone from the East to Den
yer for her health.
Mr.. Courtney's eyes kept rowing in
the direction of Geraldine, and at
last he asked, rather satrically, MAY
| inquire the title of that all-absorb-
ing book? You have scarcely rails
ed your eyes from it all the morning =
Miss Tremayn lifted her head, and
an unwonted sparkle came into her
blue eyes. Unconsciously, perhaps,
there was a challenge in her look.
She hesitated an instant, then closed
the book and held it towards him,
still keeping her finger in the page
she had been reading. 1t was a pretty
volume neatly bound. In the centre
of the cover was large gilt cross.
Underneath in golden letters was the
title MARY Magdalen's Funeral
| Tears" A look of establishment,
| which quickly changed to one of con-
tempt, passed over the young mans
| handsome face. He laughed derisive-
| ly. How long," he asked "since the
| pleasure-loving Miss Tremayn has de-
| veloped a fondness for lachrymose
| literature?'
Geraldine blushed, but answered
with some show of spirit. Il found
it lying on the floor early this morn.
ing. Being unable to find the owner,
I appropriated it,
Vivian peeped over Geraldine
shoulder at the book. Why, how
| appropriated" she exclaimed. ITO.
morrow is Good Friday"
A convulsed expression passed over
Geraldine's mobile face. What host
of memories the holy words recalled
Again she was a child kneeling be
side the image Of Christ Cruciied