The Douglas independent. [volume] (Roseburg, Or.) 187?-1885, 1882-03-18
Lost for Love.

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Lost for Love.
So Constance has given him the
shaker"
eyes"
'Tis we'll the Lady Gertrude hath
not heard of this, else it were better for
Reginald that the broad demesne DER
which he rules SO haughtily held lightly
in its grass-covered bosom his pallid
corse. The proud, vindictive spirit of
the Mulcaheys will not brook an insult,
and, by halidom, 'twere we'll for the
young Lord of Topkinsville that he wear
steel corselet DER his periured heart
this hight ere the steel-shod hoofs of
his pI.frey are heard crossing the draw
bridge that leads to the Castle Ma
honey. Mark you this, Wilifred, tbs
not light offense that one. cen though
he be young, and rich, and handsome,
step in between Mulcahey and the one
he loves"
It was Miriam McCartey eighth Ouch
ess of Connemarra, who spoke these
words, and Wilifred O'Brien gazed at her
with sad earnestness as she leaned
gracefully over the back yard fence. her
sunny countenance flecked here and
there by dash of soap-suds, whose deli
cate whiteness brought out in bold relief
the vivid colors of her 1oseate complex
lon. Wilifred was q pale, intellectual
youth, and prided himself on his noble
ancestry. Once he had said to the Jones
boy Whose folks had always lived in this
country: 81 am the descendant of a
noble race. The blood of three kings
fiows in my veins" But the Jones boy
-Only laughed, in his course, brutal way,
and replied that some day man with a
flush would come along and capture the
three kings. Wilifred had brooded over
this and other evidences of the bar.
barism that was continually out
cropping in the lives of the
poor, plebeian Americans whom
he was compelled sometimes to
meet, and his naturally sunny disposition
had become so soured that he would Of
ten put down the hod and mutter strange
oaths to himself, taking no heed of aught
that was passing in the busy world about
him, until chunk of plaster from the
hand of the head brick layer few merrily
in his direction, and he fastened to re.
leive the Duke of Galway, who should
have been two places below him on the
ladder He loved Miriam Mccarthy with
q wild, passionate, soul melting love that,
like the mighty glacier of the Alps, bore
on its outward surface no indication of
the tremendous force within. Two
years ago she had first seen him, as he
walked along with his County Antrim
stride along the streets, amid the blare
of trumpets, the rattle of drums and the
graceful and fiery prancing of the tempo
rarily-off- duty omnibus horses, as the
United Sons of Hibernia swept with
stately grace past her ancestral home on
Archer avenue "I do not care" she
said softly to herself, blushing as she
spoke, ''if he has got his grandfather's
plug nat on; to Lac he is all that is noble,
and manly, and pure, and good"
Two weeks later they had pIighted
their troth, and were now looking for
ward with all the rosy hopefulness of
youth to the halcyon days when they
would be forever bound together by the
holy tie of matrimony, and dimpled
babe coo menfily forth its dulcet cries
when the collie came in like thief in the
night and the paregoric bottle had van
ished into the deep mystery of the Here
after.
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"Are you going to the wake this even
ing?"
It was this that Pizarro McGinness,
the young Earl of Ballyhooly, spoke to
Miriam MCCARTHY, two hours after the
above conversation had taken place.
ssWho's the corpse?" asked Miriam, a
bright smile illumining her features at
the thought of the unexpected society
event which had come to her.
Cecil Clancarty," replied Pizarro.
Miriam's heart beat great throb. $50
then," she thought, "this proud beauty,
who won my brothers love two sum-
mers agone, only to cast it aside when
the picnic season was over, as carelessly
rs papa slings his dinner pail into the
corner when he returns in the cleaning
from the horse railway barns, is dead?
She did not care when my golden haired
Rupert came home full as q tick and
carefully placed kis boots on the "eta-
gerep before retiring. The poor boys
heart was breaking for love of her but she
has died amid all her sins and follies,
and s;x-button kids"
Then, mastering the emotions which
had momentarily almost overcome her,
Miriam turned to Pizarro and said:
.'What happened her?"
tAneurism of the heart, believe, was
the reply.
You don't say SOP exclaimed Miriam
j always said she would kill herself
some day, the way she powdered and
painted.
well, remarked the young man, a
triftie impatiently, will you be there to-
night"
s'Yes; I'll come.''
sand may escort you homer" he
continued.
II will see you later on that point,
was the witty response; and with light
merry ha-ha-villain-I n-I-scorn-your-prof
fered suit laugh on her lips, Miriam
sprang lightly from the ashbarrel OF
which she was seated, and began to shoe
geese out of the rontyard.
sI cannot allow you to go home Will