Love of Brothers

t with distaste. It looked mean. The envelope of flimsy paper was dirty. Some emanation came from t

ng importunate, disagreeable, like a debased face thrust in at her door. With a sigh she turned to it, to get it out

e while she opened it. A smell of turf-smoke came out of it,-nothing worse than that. Perhaps

onley good. There is a woman lives in the Waterfall Cottage yo

sinceer W

X

it. It was so short and written so legibly that the w

from her into the heart of the brightly burning fire of wood and turf. A l

o speak. She had no intention of keeping the matter of the anonymous letter from her husband, but she

reached them at their breakfast table. She felt disturbed and agitated, but only as one does

usual benign placidity, at las

ing news, Ma

thinks he can get a few days' leave next week for the ph

mly. "He hasn't been away very long

mes on

ct he k

you finished, Shawn?

dear. Will you come o

y a beautif

get my

he uppermost of three terraces: below the lowest the country swept away to the bog. The wall, made to copy one in a famous Roman garden, was beautiful at all times of the year, with its strange clinging and climbing plants that flourished so well in this mild soft air. In

She threw crumbs to them as she talked, and the robins picked them up and flirted their li

l, M

crumbs from her lap. "I did not tell you the truth when

so long together for me not to know you throu

thing, a creepi

rvously under the droop of the long lashes.

ely I saw it all at a glance. It is horrid to thi

ed. She had a pecu

to be believed. They said-I beg your pardon for telling you,

ad the power to disturb her before: or she thought she did. The upper part of his fa

ot believe

Would you believe

sharp, like a cry, in the protest. "No rep

darkly blue ribbon, reflecting the cloud of indigo which hung above the bog. Beyond was the Wood of the Echoes, the trees

down on her shoulder, wit

erfall Cottage, at night too, and only not by stealth because I thought that Hercule

he greatest gentleness, so that she might ca

?" she asked, with

ou, Mary," he said. "Go on stroki

gia?" she asked

t. It is a sort of congestion cau

quite unsuspicious. "You

her, and she saw that th

ecrets from you all ou

ry

may-of grief. Then she said, with

had no right to know. There are reticences I can r

ther person's secret involved. I kept it back

tell me now unless the

ust you,

rld that you should have cared for me. Terence was so splendid, so big, so handsome and pleasant with every one. How could you have preferred me before him? And I knew he wasn't fit for you, Mary. I knew there was another girl,-yet I held my peace. It tortured me, to keep silence. And there was the other girl to be thought of.

essing hand felt the cold sweat ooze out on his forehead. How sen

you say," she said. "His mother wanted i

him-to some extent?

ver ask me. Perhaps you never would have only that I came to you when you were s

iced it. Her own well-spring of Joy had never run dry. It had survived even his sadness, and had made the house bright for their on

er despair,-'an angel

to me when you showed

eve he was often on the edge of telling me his secret. Over

t tell such things to th

s,-that. I thought it was ... a lady .

s mad about her. He knocked down a Connaught Ranger man who made a joke about her. That last leave-before he was killed-he was never out of the place. She had been at a convent school-the old woman had brought her up well-and she used to go on visits to school friends in Dublin. Terence told me he met her in Dublin when we were at the Royal Barr

ittle creature, like a moss rosebud, such dark hair and the beautiful colour and the ardent look in her eyes. Old Mrs. Dowd answered Aunt Grace with a haughtiness equal to her own. Aunt Grac

pliments. I have sometimes thought she meant Bridyeen to marry a gentleman. Several were infatuated enough for that. The old woman was always about watching and listening. I

w that the picturesque old woman and the little granddaughter had gone till aft

hem-the old woman and the poor child. I would have done what I could. They were gone. No one knew what had become of them. They had gone away quietly and mysteriously. The little pl

a said softly. "She looked as shy as

Mary? She has come back

e you would want to be kind to

er one night I came that way-when I was late and had to take that road. I saw her through the unshuttered window with a strong light on her face. I went back there in daylight and came upon her drawing water from the well. She was frightened at first, but afterwards she seemed glad to

id Lady O'Gara. "That will be the