Richard Forrest, Bachelor — page 44: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“GOOD-BY, BEST AND KINDENT SISTER,” 35 house, and that was Father Moore, the village priest. Day aiter day the venerable man called, only to be informed that ‘‘Miss Delmar was too ill toseeanybody.’’ But at last, one bitterly cold morning, touched by his devoted persist- ence, the inexorable Nora opened the door wide enough to let him in and showed him into the room where Rose was sitting. He drew back in astonishment and dismay. Could this pale, haggard creature be the splendid specimen of woman- hood he had seen only the week before? She held out her hand to him, but scarcely lifted her eyes to his face. ‘“You have been ill, they tell me, my child,’’ he said, kindly. ‘‘Yes,’’ she replied, almost inaudibly. ‘‘T am sorry. But your sister, why is she not with you?’’ he continued, glancing around the room. ‘‘She has left me,’’ answered Rose. ‘‘Left you!’’ echoed the priest. ‘““Yes, forever—of her own free will, Father.”’ “T do not understand, ’’ he faltered. “It is quite simple. She has become tired of everything here and has gone away.’’ The good man, who was much attached to the two young sisters, was completely dumfounded, and he showed it. He uncrossed his knees, changed his position, and then grasped his hat more firmly by its broad brim. He was not given to questioning, generally, but curiosity got the bet- ter of him on this occasion, as it sometimes will with sven the best of people, and moreover, his was not idle curios- ity. | ‘‘Would you mind,’’ he began, almost timidly ; *’ otice, Good