Mineral Point weekly tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1859-1868, 1862-02-26

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more; | am writing now like very child
just as dctachedly, just as incoherently, as
would speak were YOU here, Paul-here be-
side me, with your hand in mine
/ Farewell Paul have no more fond thoughts
of me; simply those of kindness and friend
| ship. You may write to me again, but please,
/ Paul, do not entreat or speak of love so fer
| ventlv. 1t almost breaks NV heart and YOU
| know it cannot be that we shall ever we'd
| 1t Is naru, very hard, for me to write thus |
/ know it will make YOUR heart grow more and
more sad, and rob your life of its little re-
manning energy; but | cannot help it. Duty
| compels me to state the truth my mind is
made up in this matter, and | cannot be
moved. Forget me, Paul; pray to God to
| give YOU strength, pray earnestly-and | will
become to you a though | had never been
| Direct your next letter to Madrd, and believe
me ever your sincere and earnest friend.
MIsIAM.
Paul was sitting in his study at Rom
stead Place while reading this letter.
. Miriam. Miriam" he murmured yes,
as you say, it is sad that these estates
must still stand between our happiness
and our love. Forget you, Miriam? that
can never be. Can forget that | live
Can forget my lord? O this love /.
warping my soul p and Paul knelt down
in the darkening twilight and PRAYED -
He again rose strong in purpose and re
solve. There was a placidness upon his
| features, and much of firmncss in the
expression OF his lips For a while again
he had conquered The next morning
found him penning the following letter to
Miriam. There was no pleading in it
no wild thrilling murmur Of love.
DEAR MIRIAM Your letter has been re-
CpIypd-ani a. hitter i | muSr f,iu I.a
satisfied. And so you are going TO Madrid
And whittier then? You are little tluant-
and | think that you are also little bit sell
fish IN not writing oftener TO me and giving
me description Of the sights and things you
see
am still engaged in my ministerial duties.
\ chapel has been erected on my lands front
ing on the highway, and | have established
quite fine congregation. have also opened
Sabbath School, in which l take a great
deal of interest. The school numbers thirty
scholars already, and | often wish that YOU
were here to help me instruct them in the
paths that paths of pleasantness and
peace
God had given me strength, and have now
become satisfied to our final separation. The
crops for the season were large Mr. Morgan
| is well and as "positive" as ever ! have
retained your old domestic Lula. She expres-
ses much anxiety to see -ou-"
Thus Inc letter ran on-fuil Of common
piaccncsses ; a letter Of gossip from a
mere friend Miriam was not happy as
she read it, though She had forbidden the
earnest pleading Of lovc-the letter would
still have been more sweetly refreshing had
there not been such an air of GOODNESS and
Indifference about it,-but the fault was
hers and net Pauls.
CHAPTER VII
Another year had passed on
In a low-rUofed yet comfortably fur
nishcd cottage five or six miles from Rem
stead place, an old man lay upon a bed
of sick ess and disease For many weeks
his body had been und rruing n slow
prostratiOn. BY his bedside, administer
ing spiritual consolation, sat the man Of
Sod, Paul Deyarcux
Mr. Devareux,' said the old man, =
YOU have Of late made me an especial
object os your care. For this / am very,
very thankful my gratitude is n .itude
which J cannot convey to you III words
and which my rapidly waning life will
not allow me to express in deeds How
ever, may God S choicest blessings rest
upon YOUR soul forever and forever |
have had, too, for some weeks, another
friend: one who comes AMI waits on me-
and makes my soul to grow stronger with
her teachings, the same as with thine,
and sits and reads to me until, in the
gathering twilight, almost imagine that
can sec til CLEAN Of white wings She
is all that is beautiful, and true, and
good.
have never met her, said Paul
No, you have not She does not wish
to meet you here nor elsewhere When
speak OF you ~ ner, her cheeks bright
en-thcre Is dcwyness in her eyes, and
tremGT IN her voice She grows rest
less. and hurriedlv directs my thoughts
and words into another channel | have
noticed this
Her name p said Paul, quickly
! She said l should simply call her
+ Mira
Miriam, YOU mean?'
No, Mira, rs have said"
( Has she ever been to Europe p
Paul asked the question with much an1
iety
She has" was the reply
So-and when Will she come again p
Tonight"
+ Just then the door opened and Miriam
came in The rush of wind made the
light burn DINNER, and Paul shrank away
.
les there she was, calm and beautiful
still There was a holiness. n resi@na-
ton in the east Of her features. Her
dress was simple, unadorncd hy gems,
and her hair was parted plainly over her
/ igh white forehead.
She was unconscious of the presence OF
Paul she did not cast her eyes around
the room; had she done so. it is likely
that she would not have seen him, it was
20 dark where he stood She smoothed
the pillows Of the sick old man she held
cooling lqu to his parched lips she
spoke of life and hope-of the life to
come, and of the hope that points far, far
beyond the confines of the tomb She
knelt in earnest, thrilling, lite inspiring
PRAYER Paul stole forward and knelt be
side her and when she had finished, she
was startled TO hear a rich, mellow voice,
the familiar voice OF the long ago, breathe
out additional sentiments of in.pira ton
and truth.
She rose to her feet and found both her
hands within Paul =, and his eyes gazing
lovingly into hers
Miriam, my beloved, my little wife !
have you come back 70 me at last p
Yes, have, Paul = and her head
rested on his shoulder, and her bosom