Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1881-02-24
gu Original Storg.
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.
THE LADY OF LINTON.
CHAPTER XIV.
BY WALTER MORGAN.


As Sir Roland, tremblingly. slowly reached
out his hand, and with a timid gesture laid ii
in Miriam's wasted hand, convulsive shud'
der passed over her whole frame. She
turned away her head, and in faint voice
said
"You do not hate me utterly, then ?"
"Hate vou o, Miriam my wife, Ifyou
only knew" -,
"I thought you would want to kill me. |
know deserve death at your hand. 1t would
be only just retributon."
"Do not utter such terrible words, Miriam
I love you with my whole heart and soul
have loved you all along"
She turned an incredulous look upon him
"Loue me! You?'
AYE, love. gave my whole heart to you
.once, and have never taken it back"
81 cannot understand it," she said, dreami-
". Il fancied you would never utter my
name without curse. Don't you know that
am demon-a tool in the hands Of Satan
himself?"
You were his tool once, Miriam. You
did not act of your own free will. But forget
A that now Let us never recur to that time
again."
"And you forgive me-actually? You are
willing to forget"
81 am willing to forgive and forget every
thing on one condition.
"And what is that?"
THAT you will in future give me your
friendship" he replied, in voice of deepest
emotion.
My friendship-poor Roland! You have
asked for worthless gift"
"Your friendship, Miriam, and the privi
lege of being near you sometimes ask
nothing more"
Such generosity is not human. deserve
that you should spurn me, trample me be:
meath your feet. Do you know how far |
have wronged you?'
II said that We would think of that no
more"
"Nay, l do not mean that one guilty act
alone Did you know that just little while
ago 1 engaged myself to marry man who
loved me-aud this, not knowing positively
whether you were alive or dead p
Roland flushed deeply, and looked away.
81 did hear this" he answered in low tone.
"But you believed me to be dead, did you
not?'
81 had done so, all along; but old Pris.
ella had given me hint of the truth"
"Well, we will forget that also, Miriam.
Of course" he added sorrowfully, 81 cannot
blame you for loving any one else, because
you never cared for me- | cannot wonder at
that. never hope to win any warmer feel.
ing from you than the friendship have sued
for. But for your own sake, after all that
has happened, it will be best for you open
ly to accept my protection. Let the world
make whatever comments it likes. We need
not regard them. When you are quite we'll
again, we will, if you like, 90 abroad, and
make new home for ourselves in some far
country where no one will trouble themselves
about US, or inquire into our past"
"And give up Linton Towers? Nay, that
would be too hard fate for you. Rather let
me 60 away. Send me where You will, make
what arrangements you choose, and | will
abide by them. Let me retire into convent
and try to expiate my sins by life of pen
ance and seclusion."
"And could l be happy here, do you think
under such circumstances? No, we will 60 to-
ge,her-that is," he added with a sudden
painful doubt, "unless my companionshiF
will be too great tax upon your endurance'
"Would / shun the companionship of an
angel from Heaven ?" asked Miriam, in q
scarcely audible tone. Il have sinned deep
ly-my soul has been stepped and dyed il
crime but before God, if you are willing tc
be with me through my future life, that life
shall be an atonement for the past.
lie kissed her hand, and his tears fell on ii
like rain.
so be it" he whispered. Where thou
goest, l will 60 1t is covenant between
US, Miriam With Gods help we will Luilc
up future that shall compensate us for these
wasted years, and if my devotion can make
you happy, you shall yet find happiness upor
earth"
And so the covenant was made and from
that hour wondrous peace dawned in Mi
riams soul. She had compared her husband
to an angel of Heaven, and surel y his minis
trations to her were angelic in their tender
ness. A new feeling for him began to awaker
within her. 1t Was not love, but deep, un
spoken reverence, that seemed to shed pure
etulgent light about him, and lift him ta
above her lowly level. Her pride was al
gone now. With repentance had come it.
sister, humility, abasing her in her own eyes
to depth far below anything she had eve
before conceived. 1t was not prayerful hu
mility at first. She had so long been an alier
from Heaven, that she shrank, almost in ter
ror, from presenting herself as suppliant
the throne of grace. 1t would take time t.
clear all the mists of error from her eyes, ant
make her see things in their true light. Gen
tly, cautiously, as one would lead a little help
less child along difficult path, her HUSBAND
strove to guide her wandering and uncertaI'
stems hack TO the road in which she shOult