THE FORTUNES OF MAURICE O'DONNELL.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XI, Issue 1, 27 April 1883, Page 7

THE FORTUNES OF MAURICE O'DONNELL.

(By CoNAii Noib in the Dublin Freeman^

CHAPTER XV.

Tee postscipt did not say much. It merely ran — " I trust, dear Miss O'Donnell, once again to revisit Donegal, and once again to see the sunset on the sea, graced with your presence. I bare many a time and oft thought of it since I left Craighome. It has been seldom absent from my dreams." Not words of very much import in themselves ; but they contained pleasure ineffable to Grace's mind. She could not really understand how with the strange feelings of yearnings for them both — for she always in the one thought associated her brother and her friend — that now filled her heart to overflowing, she could hare been so indifferent to him when here. Night after night when she retired to rest, alone: with her prayers for her dead mother and father, she found herself unconsciously associating the names of her brother and his friend. And many a fervent hope and invocation went up from her sad heart for their safety whilst the steamer bearing them on their way ploughed through the blue waters of the Mediterranean. But Grace could only hope that the happy days when she would make the place bright by their 'presence would come again and soon ; and so she brushed away each morning the rising tears from her eyes aa she thought of them, and addressed herself to her duties. And one of her duties — duties at least of hospitality and kindness — was to sit beside and read to the invalid who was left behind. When the sorrow of parting was heavy on her she felt a curious repugnance and distaste to this. It seemed an offence to those that had gone. But her sense of hospitality overcame this feeling ; and often, as sitting at the window overlooking the woods of Duncabir and Glentruagh, where they lay bathed in the sunshine, her wandering thoughts as she xead to him, went afar from the subject of the novel, and were with the two wanderers on their way to the East. So, too, when they walked together over the hill-side his merry remark and gay lightness of spirit grated on feelings, and though she did her best to make her presence agreeable and to make him feel at home and welcome, it was but an effort, and her heart or affections had little part in the effort. He was growing much better with each successive week, and had at last grown quite strong, when one morning as she came into the drawing-room he was standing at the window where it looked over the Northern Sea, with some opened letters in his hand. ' Hearing her footsteps behind him he turned quickly round. His face though clouded and gloomy, bioke at once into its usual expression of frankness and gaiety. Indeed it would be hard for any face not seared with unusual pain and sorrow to have retained one gloomy expression in presence of the handsome form that approached, and the eyes of laughing blue that looked at him. " You have had some news, Captain Buchanon 1 " His name — we beg our readers' pardon for not mentioning it before ; but the occasion did not occur — was Frank Buchanon — ''and of a kind pleasant, I am glad to see." " I really cannot cay at this present moment whether they are or otherwise, Miss O'Donnell," said he. "You don't seem to be much displeased with them at any rate," said Grace, placing herself by Ms side, and looking over the scenery which glowed in the freshness of the morning. "From out absent friends I hope." - " You would need to guess again," said he as he turned towards her, glancing at the letters in. his hand. " I am sorry they are not." "So am I," said Grace. "It is some time since we heard from them now." " I rather think I shall see them before I hear from them," said Frank glancing at her. " This is a letter of my recall." " So soon," said Grace looking up with an expression of surprise. It was clearly not the expression he had expected — or wished to see, for a look of disappointment and pain crossed his eyes. " Yes," said he, " I have only two days to prepare. Quite enongh under any other circumstance, but it comes now with a pain I never felt before." Grace half felt the meaning conveyed in these words and sought instinctively to parry any further statement. 11 1 am sorry, truly and leally sorry, Captain Buchanon, that your stay is so short. I wish it were otherwise. Ido indeed. But I trust a few months will see us all gathered togethered at Craighome. Farting is always very bitter. I felt it so in the beginning ; I feel it so now." There was sympathy enough in her words and in her tones, and in her suffusing eyes, but it was evidently not the sort of sympathy be had hoped for, for no touch of gaiety or happiness crossed his face. So he remained silent, still looking out through the window. The awkwardness of the silence was broken by Grace saying — " Could you not remain some time longer ? You are enough recovered yet to travel." " I fear not Miss O'Donnell. It is necessary I should go. In truth I have remained too long already." " Oh, Mr Buchanon," said Grace expostulating!?. " I fear I have, Miss O'Donnell," said he depressedly, and with little of his usuai gaiety and earnestness. "It would be better for me I had never come. For many-reasons." " Oh, Mr. Buchanon," said Grace, as she turned her face a little further from him, so that the hot flush that mantled it should not be visible to him. But there was no need for that, for he did not raise his eyes from the wooded valley — lit up with brightening sunshinehe was looking into, but merely continued — " That is so Gr— r— Miss O'Donnell. But " with a choking feeling that was palpable enough to Grace, though her face was averted, " enough of that for the present. I have farther news, how-

ever, which I trust will be agreeable to you. It is as surprising to me as I am sure it will be to you." " From Maurice 1 from " she was going to add in her surprised impetuosity another name, but she restrained herself. " No, not from either of them, I am sorry to say," said he quickly understanding her ; and his words were not without a trace of sadness that bordered on bitterness. "Not from either of them. It is from my sister— Alice." " Lsdy Alice Buchanon ? " inquired Grace with interest. She had often heard the young lady referred to by Frauk both during the presence of the absent officers and since, She always seemed to be a favourite subject with him, and his airy conversation in discussing odds and ends of gossip not unfrequently brought the name into mention. Neither of the other had ever seen her, though they had often between themselves laughingly referred to her and to his repeated and unconscious mentionings of her name. And Grace had grown to recognise her name as in some way that of an old friend from having so often heard it mentioned. " Yes ; I have a note from her in my hand, saying that she is on her way to see me. She cannot understand but that lam seriously hurt, since lam delaying so long, and in any case wishes to see me before I rejoin my regiment." " This is quite a delightful surprise " said Grace, whose genial good nature rejoiced at the presence of any friend or visitor at Craighome — " an unexpected pleasure. When does she leave ? " " She has already left," said he glancing at the letter. " This is dated Thursday, to-day is Saturday. I should not wonder if she were here to-day." The delight that Grace evinced at the news and the anxiety to have everything arranged for her reception would have been at any other time highly acceptable to Frank, but it struck painfully on his heart now. A few days —nay a few hours — would see him parting from her for ever, and her lightness of heart and animation of manner chilled him. " There is not regret for my leaving there," he said to himself ; "if I were only journeying to Derry for a few hours she could- not show more unconcern." " How shall you meet her 1 " 11 1 think I shall lide into Derry, Miss O'Donnell." " And 1 think, if you please, I shall accompany you," said Grace pleasantly. "It is only Irish hospitality to meet Lady Alice at the boundary of what used to be the territory of the O'DonnellV' t! I shall feel extremely obliged," said Frank. " The ride will be very pleasant, the morning is so fine." After a short delay they were in the saddle and cantering down the lawn. And indeed as they emerged from the shadow of the trees into the sunshine, and passed from the demesne of Craighome into the open road it would be difficult to see fairer lady or braver Bquire. God bless your sweet face. Miss Grace," said the old woman who opened the gate for them, looking after them — " the sorra handsomer or fairer undher Ireland's sky to-day — and break all hard crosses afore you, my darlint ; and faix she 'might do worse," she continued, as the form of the officer, erect and easy in the saddle, showed his fine figure to advantage. " Hisiface is so open an' pleasant an' his eye so bright an' winning, that faix he's more like an Irishman nor Englishman." She watched the retreating forms as they cantered gaily along until the train of Grace's riding dress disappeared behind the turn of tha road, and they became lost to her view. " She might do worse," she continued, as She reclosed the gate, an' I hope the poor colleen — the light of the glory to her I— will show herself to have the good sense to do what's right and careful for herself — when that graceless loon ov a brother didn't stay at home in the place that was good enough for his father an' too good for him— the •colliocbM" The old woman had scarcely turned into the house when it came to Grace's turn to determine whether the thoughts that crossed her mind were likely to come true. " You don't appear to regret my leaving, Miss O'Donnell ? " said Frank, as he saw the freshness of the morning air rise in blushes on her forehead and face, and the light of the fresh sun sparkle in her eyes. " I feel very sorry," said Grace. " I always feel sorry when parting with friends." 11 It is a very evanescent sorrow, I fear." " You wrong me there, Captain Buchanon. It is, on the contrary, a very lasting one. How could it be otherwise in the loneliness of Craighome ? " " Do you never feel that sorrow — that regret — that I experience now, when parting means leaving — giving vp — surrendering whatever there is that makes life bright and beautiful 1 There is something like that around my heart this moment." " I am sorry you should be depressed." (To be continued.)