The Irish standard., 1919-02-15

her soul! was good to them all Sis
ter, and working hard for them; and
I'm not grieving much, for I won't
be here long now, I'm old, I'd be
eager to go if-if-" His thin voice
trailed into silence and he closed his
eyes and leaned his head wearily
against the back of his big chair. But
Sister Evangelista knew that he was
not done, and waited in silence for
the rest of the story.
It was long time before he looked
at her again and said, in a half whis-
per, "And I-had-one little girl, l.
wasn't good to her. She was the
youngest of all, and-may the Lord
forgive me-but l loved her more
than all the lads together. She was as
mischievous as the worst of them,
Sister. with gentle, tender heart
like her mothers; and when her
mother faded away and died my only
comfort was that Norah would be be-
side me always
But she was only eighteen years
when she wanted to go to the convent
-Norah, of all girls! And she so
pretty, and so winsome and so gay,
and me wanting her every hour of the
day. All that was nearly thirty years
ago. And i never defied God before,
but l said NO Norah waited for
awhile, and still said NO She wait
ed until Father O'Sullivan told her
that she was risking her vocation, and
then she left home and came to Amer
lea to enter"
Again he paused before going on
shame-facedly. "Sister, you can't
blame me more than l blame myself,
but IL forbade her to write to us,
for they were angry, too. The Lord
soon punished me. My sons died, all
of them, and year by year I've grown
lonelier and lonelier, and more hun.
cry for the sight of her face. l longed
for her until couldn't rest, and she
its been hard on her, though l
didn't think of that for many a day.
had two hundred and fifty dollars, so
l came to look for her. She came to
New York. knew that, but l hadn't
guessed America is so big, and New
York-why, it's got more people in it
than a dozen Ireland's! And l hadn't
known Norah Connors are so plenti-
full. l went, all smiling and hopeful at
first, to every convent in New York
City, and some of them have Norah
O'Connors, but not my Norah. And
went to Brooklyn, and to Albany
walked most Of the way, and it was
winter then, because my money was
nearly gone. Then l came here.
can't do any more. If only she could
know how sorry l am, and-how
long I've been sorry"
Sister Evangelista said nothing. She
was thinking less OF him than of his
daughter; thinking, too, how many
nun carries some such weight upon
her heart. She had almost forgotten
Tim, when he began again.
"I'm happier here than have been
in many years. You may think I'm
out of my head If tell you, but
sometimes hear her voice out there
in the corridor, or even close to my
bed, and I've thought some nights
that I saw her face again quite plain
ly, not as rosy as it used to be, but
just as sweet and happy"
Sister Evangelista smiled indulgent.
ly and tried to comfort him little;
and a few minutes afterwards meet
ing Sister 1melda in the pharmacy she
said to her: "You will be on duty to-
night in my ward, and want you to
be very good to poor old Tim. He is
not going to last long, and most of us
left lovely fathers behind u.s.
"Oh, will be good to him. He
seems to like me. I have always
been particularly sorry for him. Poor
old mani" Sister 1melda answered.
"His daughters nun, and he is
broken-hearted because he can't find
her. Norah O'Connor was her name
She left home many years ago. And
now his sons are dead and he's alone
in the world and grieving his heart
out for sight of his little girl"
Sister 1melda looked at her strange.
ly for moment. Hes looking for
his daughter-and he's Tim O'Con-
nor-from County Cork" she said. II
Sister, am going to speak to him" :"
and she almost ran towards the ward.
"She will never grow up," Sister
Evengelista thought indulgently.
Sister Imelda was by the old mans
bed before he saw her, and in an in.
stant she was leaning over him and
had his face clasped between her
hands.
"Daddy-dear, dear daddy-don't
you know me?" she whispered.
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