« iepriekšējāTurpināt »
and she so mighty purty," was Winny's cool
"She's from Galway, I believe?"
"Have you lived long with Mrs. Dormer?"
"She's a kind misthress no doubt?"
"No, she had another, but it did not live."
"All about her, av coorse," retorted Winny, rather indignantly.
"Sure, I know that, but what was it?" The tones were now more conciliating.
"Well, one day she called at our house in Galway, and axed lave to light her pipe."
"And is that all ye have to tell me about her?" interrupted Nurse Lynch, in a disappointed voice.
"If you have the patience to listen and not be snapping the words out of one's
"Then Miss Josephine is her only living mouth, you'll hear more, ma'am," rejoined child ?"
"Maybe she isn't her child at all!" said a voice, suddenly, near them; and an old woman, wrapped in a blue cloak, came from behind a huge rock, at the foot of which she had been sitting, before unnoticed.
Do you know who we're talking about?"
Both women watched her tall figure till shewas out of sight. Then Winny remarked she had seen her before.
Winny, with an important air. "Well, as I was saying, she axed lave to light her pipe; and while she was smoking it, Miss Josephine come into the kitchen, and when the woman saw her she started and axed so many questions about her bedad, that me tongue was tired answering them. She's a cute one, I tell ye. She got round me so with her palaver, that I tould her widout maning it."
"Tould what?" was Nurse Lynch's eager question.
"Faith, then, I'm not going to bethray the saycret the second time," said Winny, with determination; and, rising suddenly, she took up her pailful of shell-fish.
"Stop a moment! where's the hurry!" and Nurse Lynch laid her detaining grasp on Winny's arm, the eager curiosity to learn more gleaming in her gray eyes. "Sit down. again, woman dear, and let us have a confab together. That's a good young man—the parson I mane. He's a kind masther, no doubt; he'll be for marrying Miss Josephine, maybe?"
"No, he won't. They're too much like brother and sister for that," was Winny's blunt answer, as she seated herself once more, yielding to the wishes of her new acquaintance.
"Where ?" eagerly demanded the nurse. "In Galway, about ten years ago. I couldn't remimber at first where it was I "Miss Josephine will look higher, perseen her, but it's come to me quite sud- haps?" observed Nurse Lynch, significantly. dint." "The young baronet is greatly taken with "What's come to you? Arrah, spake her, they say; but I'm afeard there's no plain, woman."
chance of his marrying her."
"And why not?" asked Winny, sharply. "Isn't she good enough for him?”
the door, and kept at bay by a gossoon with a stout stick, lest it should dare invade
"Purty enough she is, anyhow," was the the kitchen while it was honoured with her cautious rejoinder.
"Ay, and good enough, too, why not?" said Winny, with an offended air.
"But, you see, there's a saycret about her birth," put in Nurse Lynch, quietly, with a meaning smile.
"Sure it's glad I am to see you intirely, ma'am ; and how is the young misthress and the quality up at the house ?"
While Nurse Lynch was replying to this question, the gaunt, weird figure who had so
"Who said there was," asked Winny, test- abruptly accosted her on the sea-shore passed
"Yourself, woman alive; sure there's no use in getting so angry about it."
Well, if there is a saycret, it's none of your business, ma'am," retorted Winny, stiffly, as she rose to her feet; and bidding Nurse Lynch a cold good evening, she turned abruptly away.
"She's cuter than I thought," was the nurse's mental observation as she stood watching Winny's sturdy-looking figure hastily retreating in the direction of the cottage. She felt irritated at being baffled in her attempts to get at the truth about Miss Josephine's birth. "There was a saycret in it, anyhow, that wasplain enough," she told herself, exultingly. Winny had let that out unknown to herself. Her suspicions were not groundless. That conviction was so much gained, at any rate, and she hoped yet to ferret out the whole affair. That strange woman in the blue cloak had said she would know all about it some day. But who was that woman, and what had she to do at all in the matther? what concarn was it of hers? It was all mighty' quare intirely, and as she returned slowly to Barrington House, she pondered deeply upon all that had been said on the sea-shore that summer evening.
On her way home she stopped to rest awhile at a cabin on the roadside, and have a chat with Nance Dillon, the "dacent" woman who owned it. Nance felt herself highly honoured by a visit from Nurse Lynch from the big house. The best chair was carefully dusted before it was offered to the welcome visitor, and the pig was driven from
the cabin door, and she eagerly inquired who she was.
"That's Dinah Blake, the Lord be good to her, the craythur!" was Nance Dillon's pathetic answer.
"She's a sthranger in these parts. I never remimber seeing her afore."
"Och, she isn't a sthranger at all, ma'am. She used to live here onct in her life—that was afore your time, Mrs. Lynch. Indeed she was a sarvint up at the big house when the ould masther lived there long ago. But when the black throuble darkened her door, she left the counthry all of a suddint, and never showed her face here for many a day. She is come back agin, but I'm thinking she won't stay long. She'll be off on the thramp agin in no time. The grief about poor Nora turned her head, and sure no wondher.” "Who was Nora, and what happened to her ?"
"A young daughther of Dinah's that went to her grave in shame and sorrow. She lies beyant there in St. Bride's this many a year.”
"And what became of her child?-she had one, I suppose?" asked Nurse Lynch, with eager curiosity. A new light was dawning upon the mystery that perplexed her.
"It died, Dinah said; and sorra word more could anybody get out of her about it." "Are you sure it died? Can the woman's word be depinded on ?"
Faith, I dunno; but that's what she said, anyhow."
"How long is it since she left here ?" was Nurse Lynch's next query; the subject seemed to interest her.
"Nearly twenty years, as near as I can count. It might be a year or two less or more, I can't say for sartain.”
"And she has not been in the counthry since until now?" This was said interrogatively.
"Only onct since; and that was when the major died; you remimber the time your self, ma'am, whin you was sint off with the young heiress to Ennis, to be out of the way of the sickness, the spotted faver that sthruck him down so suddint. Dinah Blake came back then, and bedad she helpt me to nurse him awhile, just afore he died, bekase I was worn out intirely for want of sleep."
"It was mighty kind of her, to be sure, but maybe she had a motive in it,” remarked Nurse Lynch, thoughtfully. "Who was it
led Nora asthray ?" she asked, abruptly, after a short pause.
"Sorra one ever knew except Dinah her
'And did she never tell it to anybody?" "Never! you daren't spake to her about The grief and shame near dhruv her out of her mind, and faith no wondher! for isn't the black disgrace the worst throuble of all. Sure there's nothin' so bad as that, the saints betune us and harm !"
Nurse Lynch made no reply to this pathetic observation. The twilight was deepening fast, and as she had still some distance to walk, she bade Nance Dillon a kind good. night, and continued her way to Barrington House, thinking deeply.
Till they break on the decks with a shock,
And this is the message I bring
"I fear, love, yet think but of thee."
I bring a message for thee,
From thy dear love far out at sea;
First it was told to the wind,
But the wind, cruel wind, stays behind,
And the voice which came floating to me!
I have come home on swift wing,
And this, its last message, I bring—
Good-bye, love, I think but of thee."
THE LATE SESSION OF THE PARLIAMENT OF ONTARIO.
BY A BYSTANDER.
UR article on the recent struggle in the Parliament of Ontario drew from the organs of both parties some comments, the friendly tone of which we acknowledge with pleasure, accepting it as an indication that our article was, in spirit at least, not otherwise than impartial. We will only venture to remark that, while an anonymous writer refrains from any abuse of his privilege, it is better, in the general interest of the press, to respect his incognito. In the United States it is the rule to break through the incognito, and to give every discussion as personal a character as possible; but this rule, in our humble judgment, is more honoured in the breach than in the observance. The moral influence of the press, like all moral influence, will ultimately depend upon
its submission to necessary restrictions, among which, as we believe, are the preservation, for legitimate purposes, of the anony mous character, and of the impersonality of discussion.
We noticed as questionable the censure of the last Parliament involved in the amendment to the address which was carried by the Opposition. It has been replied that we must have overlooked the fact that the Railway Subsidies Act, at which the censure was levelled, had been condemned by the country at the polls. We, however, did not overlook this fact, which was indisputable, and was clearly proved by the secession of some of the Ministerialists from their party on the Railway question. But a Parliament formally assembled is not at liberty to exercise the
freedom of the hustings; it is bound by rules intended for the preservation of its own dignity and the maintenance of the sovereign authority, of which it is the depository for the time being. A vote of censure on the Legislature which had passed the Railway Subsidies Act, implied a vote of censure on the Lieutenant-Governor who had signed the Act, which few would contend to be in accordance either with the forms or with the spirit of the Constitution. Without imputing any wrong intentions, we remain of opinion that an error was in fact committed, and one which, if Parliament wishes to preserve its authority and dignity, should be avoided for the future. No harm can result from the restriction, since it is always open to the Opposition to move no-confidence in the Gov-affrays, and to relegate the discussion to the ernment, and the motion will be carried if the policy of the Government is on any ground condemned by the majority of the House. Or if an Act of Parliament, carried under the influence of the Government, is the special object of reprobation, the repeal of the Act may be moved, and the Government, if its policy is identified with the Act, will, upon its repeal being carried, be compelled to resign. Should a Parliament ever exceed its legal powers, its successor will, of course, be called upon to vindicate the law, and in doing so will condemn the Legislature which broke it. But it cannot be contended that, in passing the Railway Subsidies Act, Parliament and the Lieutenant-Governor had exceeded their legal powers. Nor could anything be founded on the use of the vague term "unconstitutional." The legal act of a constitutional legislature, how ever impolitic, cannot be unconstitutional, at all events where there is a written constitution. In England, where there is no written constitution, the term unconstitutional has a substantive meaning, denoting that which is contrary to the unwritten law.
almost inevitable that a great amount of the public time should be consumed in recriminations. Such recriminations are not the less to be deprecated. The lavish use of them, and of mutual imputations on character, has done as much as anything to reduce public life in the United States to its present low level, and to make the name of politician in that country almost incompatible with the reputation of a man of honour. When charges of roguery and corruption are bandied to and fro, though there may be but little foundation for the charge on either side, both sides are to some extent believed by the people. Members anxious for the reputation of the House, and for the dignity of public life, will interpose to check these
After such a storm as that which raged at the opening of the Session, the waves for a time will continue to run high; and it was
party press, unless one of the combatants takes upon himself the responsibility of putting his charge in form and demanding an investigation. In the present instance investigation took place in two cases. In one of the two-a charge made against the new Prime Minister of having used improper means to bring about the secession of a member of the late Cabinet-the tribunal having been constituted, the accuser declined to appear. His ground for refusing was the form which the investigation had taken, and which was different from that desired by himself. But if the connection of his own name with his charge in the resolution appointing the committee was the point of his objection, he was certainly in error. When facts, forming a case for inquiry, are before the House, it is open to any member to move for a committee without assuming the personal responsibility of an accuser; but when, as in the present instance, there are no facts before the House, he who impeaches the character of another member must not refuse to connect his own name with the impeachment. The liberty of moving for a fishing committee, to collect the materials of an indictment, would be liable to the gravest objections.