Page:The Father Confessor, Stories of Danger and Death.djvu/302

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WALTER BARRINGTON

On the night of the party Agnes and her brother turned up, all smiles. The girl was dressed in a pretty pink frock, and looked almost beautiful. I was glad to see her with the frown off her face, and to feel the poor thing was happy and in the enjoyment of her youth. She was soon surrounded by an admiring crowd of young men, all begging for dances.

"Father insisted upon my coming," she whispered to my wife, who stood looking on with tears not far from her eyes.

"I do love to see her so," she murmured. "Now, doesn't she seem in her element? I declare when I look up at that dim house next door, and see the young faces looking out into the world, like birds in a dark cage, it almost makes me cry. I am sure I don't know what that old man does with his money; he certainly does not spend it on taking his children about, for he only takes them to museums and free picture-galleries, zoological gardens and things like that. He never has company for them—only such children as they ask in themselves."

"Perhaps he is saving," I said; "and a sick