The Mineral argus., 1884-10-30
MIRIAM DOUGLAS.

the lock on your s2tchel is broken,
making things unsafe, besides being a
very shabby old bag, sir, begging your
pardon" So quoth Eliza, relict of Jo-
siah Minis, the sexton, to her ledger,
the Rev. julius Byron.
"What a bore exclaimed this gentle
man, when L really haven't the time
to attend to anything except these let
ters."
81 have an errand which takes me
past Piper and Tipson's; l could buy
you a new satchel, if you would trust
me. Going among all these fine peo-
pie at the wedding with your lock tied
up with a bit of string wouldn't do at
all, sir"
THANK you, Mrs. Minis I have great
trust in your judgment, and should be
obliged if you would attendto this mat
ter for me, and save me going into
town"
As the door closed after his landlady,
the Rev. Julius Byron resumed his
writing with a sigh of relief. AS he sat
leaning his head on his disengaged
hand-a hand beautiful enough to atone
for plainness in all other features had
Nature willed him to be plain-Jullus
Byron was an ideal picture of a stu
dont-brown eyes with a fairy, dreamy
look. hair long enough to show a ten
dency to wave loosely back from his
forehead, and a pale, clear complexion,
set off bv a golden brown ~velveteen coat,
which he wore when in his study.
Twenty-nine years old, undeniably
handsome. gifted with winning man
ners, aud shepherd of a flock most will
ing to be guided, Julius Byron, as II by
a miracle, had escaped being spoiled
and petted into effeminacy. His safe
guard lay, perhaps, in a pair of soft
eyes which had held him spellbound for
a few r~apturous weeks, and the witch
cry of which had lasted over three
wears of almost total separation.
Miriam Douglas, dispensing tea and
gingerbread to a horde of charity chill
dren in the park at Mount Edgecombe,
was one of the prettiest and dantiest OF
modern Hebes, in a muslin dress in col
or matching forget-me-nots and hel
ewes equally well, and with roses at hel
waist and throat which stole their deli
cate tint from her cheeks. Miriam was
seventeen that day, and the blue muslin
was her first long dress; to this the las
sic paid far more attention h a to th'
admiring gaze of two dreamy brown
ewes. After the feast there were offer
ings of flowers, good wishes and rathet
too many kisses and embraces from thu
charity-children, and among her othe
trophies Miriam Douglas carried away
the heart of the Rev. Julius Byron
Had she known this it would have al
fected her less than the consciousness
that the Barclay girls, her former play
mates, were curiously admlring tn
womanish arrangement of he
bright silky hair.
There were a few tennis parties al
five o'clock teas after this, during whic
Mr.. Byron worshiped this divinity froI
afar. She seemed a little in 1--WE of hin
and rarely spoke to him more than fy
minutes at a time. What a delightfI
task it would be to chase away The timiC
atv from the soft, fawn-like eyes, an
how pleasant to think that the sea-she
pink stole to her cheeks from Joy at h
approach.
Fate, however, cruelty interfere
with Mr.. Byron's dream of awakenir
loving confidence in the bosom of tn
bashful maiden of seventeen. In thrt
short weeks, before he had made al
p~erceptible Roadway, Miriam was sun
moned to the bedside of adying ~relativ
and Julius Byron was called to a paris
in a commercial town.
Three long years this idyl had be-
in the past; and through all this tin
the memory of Miriam Douglas exclu
ed any other love from the young Gle
gyman's heart, though many were t
goddesses willing to be therein e
shrined.
He wondered at himself; she h
slipped completely out of his materi
existence; he knew not where she wa
or if she was dead, or worse-marrle
Still. with all this uncertainty, he cou
not forget her, and a voice within h
seemed to whisper that they shou
meet again.
The rapid skimming of his pen oV
the white page was stayed for the 81
.ond time 10y a heavy footstep at t
door outside; and Mrs. Minis, pant
and crimson from the ascent OF
stairs, exclaimed
There. sir you could not have fou