Fabiola : or, The church of the catacombs - Digital Repository Services

This was the way in which sympathy for thf1 bereaved Mrs.
PeBtrame 1 to church, and, after
liction, to I 1. to make iva/y i',)i- the offering
of the n, xt mo- ning'a Holy (jOmmonion, because t!;e soul of
-t of all them, from the depths of a great humility,
i their pr:i
Tliis afternoon, lien Lndy Edith May knelt in her uncle's
pine;-, how many Ion d her !
Wi.en the ban < 1' th Lord p esse ; upon us, at His own good
tiiiii 1
, iiiv we in-! a ive, every cn:e cf us, to the truth t.f our
1 being membe:s *.f ouo family, living iu one faith, moved
by oue love, approaching by one way to one eud, to th. t great
day, th day of death, " thj day for which all other days were
made ? "
Gardener, in whose house Peter had lived, put her head just
inside the priest's door, a d said :
" Isn't Peter coming to speak to aunt Mills before night?
She'd take it kindly, and it's no more than decent, I should
fay." And then, before it was possible to get any answer, she
turned away.
But Peter ws just outside near a hawthorn-tree, through
the branches of which the last rays of the setting sun were
and he said :
going '.o have a walk with Koper, and then we take a bit of
supper with his mother. He's off again to-morrow for a ten
months' absence, he < xpects, and there is eo much waslrng
aud ironing he is ; oblig d to have patience, and wait my time.
Father s: ys he hates o much slop about. But somebody
must wasLi. And my mother died when I was but thirteen
years old that was the year that you came .ashore and he
would not have wanted to work for aunt Mills and me too.
And now I am twenty-six, and I d n't believe I've cost him a
sixpence siiue I could c o a day's honing. If aunt and I had
not had a trade on our hands I wonder what we would have
done, if he had died instead of the good colonel. We've been
Baying so to him t.i-day. He's very h.ird sometimes. He
would i early like to live like a king and keep us as two ser
vants on no wages, and then where shou d we be ?"
"
Why, Mary," said Peter, "I never heard you say so many
words together before iu my life."
41
Well," taid Mary bluntly, " and you never may again,"
CHAPTER V.
James Gardener's cottage was a remarkably pleasant-looking
a good brick cottage, with white chimneys and a slated
place :
rut with a f, green-painted porch covered with roses and honeysuckle,
ai.J a glass-roofed orchard-house at one end, where, in
large pots, grew dwarf peach-trees and plum-trees, apricots
and npctarines.
A thatched tool-house stood near, over which the branches
of a fine westeria hung from the limbs of an old apple-tree,
round which it climbed, making it full of beauty with its
drooping flowers. There was a large garden attached to this
cott ge, and rows of evergreens and great towering pear-tret s
made shad -i where the paths went, and shelter d sunny seats.
There was a pond too, where gold and silver fish were bred,
and wh"i-o the wnt-r-lilios lifted up thrir away and
take a house for c urselves, only she's going t.> marry lioper;
aud if we left James to get a housekeeper he'd mar.y ///, I
suppose; and we. have fairly muddled our brains to-day 10 try