The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1882-03-30
Lost for Love.
So Constance has given him I'll
shaker

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 perjured heart
his palfrey are heard crossing the draw
bridge that leads to the Castle Ma
honey. Mark you this, Wilifred, It's
not light offense that one. cen though
he be young, and rich, and handsome,
step in between Mulcahey and the one
he loves"
1t was Miriam Mccarthy eighth Ouch
ess of Connemarra, who spoke these
words, and Wilifred O'Brien gazed at her
with a sad earnestness as she leaned
gracefully over tine back yard fence, her
sunny countenance fecked here and
there by dash of soap-suds, whose deli
cate Wilderness brought out in bold relief
the vivid colors of her loseate complex
ion- Wilifred was 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: II am the descendant Of a
noble race. The blood of three kings
flows in my veins" But the Jones boy
only laughed, in his course, brutal way,
and replied that some day a 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
ne 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
aim, until chunk of plaster from the
hand of the head brick layer flew 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
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 of. duty omnibus horses, as the
United Sons of Hibernia swept with
stately grace past her ancestral home on
Archer avenue. 81 do not care" she
said softly to herself, blushing as she
spoke, ''if he has got his grandfather's
plug nat on; to me he is all that is noble,
and manly, and pure, and good"
Two weeks later they had pIighted
their troth, and we're now looking for.
ward with all the rosy hopefulness oil
youth to the halcyon days when they
would be forever bound together by the
holy tie of mstrimony, and dimpled
babe coo merrily forth its dulcet cries
when the collie came in like q thief in the
night and the paregoric bottle had van
ished into the deep mystery of the Here
after:
"Are you going to the wake this even
ing?"
It was this that Pizarro McGinness
the young Earl of Ballyhooly, spoke I,
Miriam Mccarthy, two hours after tn
above conversation had taken place.
who's the corpse?" asked Miriam,
bright smile illumining her features a
the thought of the unexpected societ,
event which had come to her.
Cecil ClAncarty," replied Pizarro.
Miriam's heart beat great throb. IS,
them" she thought, this proud beauty
who won my brothers love two sum
mers agone, only to cast il aside whel
the picnic season was over, - oarelessl
- papa sings his dinner pail into th
corner when he returns in the gloamin
from the horse railway barns, il dead
She did not care when my golden haire
Rupert came home full e . tick an
carefully plxcsd kis boots ON the ''etl
gsre" before retiring. The poor boy
keart vs. breaking for love Of her but q
hns died amid sll her sins and follis
oud s'x-button Kids.
Than, naatsring ~ emotions WIKI