The Wilmingtonian., 1885-03-14
THE STORY TELLER.
MIRIAM'S FILTRATION.

Marian Creswick, with her "Diana bow"
of mouth stretched in most pretentious
yawn. 'Is there nothing here but crochet
work, wild Strawberries and teapartiesP"
Miriam was the very impersonation of her
Jewish name-tall and dark, with creamy
complexion and eyes that seemed to melt
and swim like stars hiding away in shady
springs.
She wore soft sweeping robes thai fell
around her in statuesque folds, and moved
with the slow, royal grace Of Hebrew
queen, SO that Constance Dale looked up to
her in girlish admiration as the incarnation
of all that was radiant in womanhood.
''But thought you came here to rest and
iam," SAID Constance.
$50 did, but don't mean actually to
stagnate il 1 can help it,"
Constance looked puzzled Miss Cres-
wick laughed.
"The dear, unsophistcated little fairy"
she cried gaily. "The sewing circle and a
portfolio of embroidery patterns may be
enough for you, but won't suffice for me. l
- I've a filtration or two to spice the
NOM. n.y."
"But thought, Miriam, that Judge Dal-
toms SON.
"Stuff and nonsense" Interrupted Mir
lam, with good humored imperioUsness
"Of course l am to marry Perciyal Dalton
some day-or at least so the elders say-and
I've no doubt he's very fine young man."
"Oh, Miriam, you do not mean that you
have never seen him ?''
"Why are you so mortified at that ?"
asked Miss Creswick, half turning, SO as to
fasten spray of rosebuds in her midnight
dark hair eve aren't engaged, nor shall
we be, probably, until it is ascertained
whether or not shall suit my lord. He's
rich and he's handsome, if report be true,
anu Iiao 10 PloopS MUM al Calo l"i
now."
Sand when does he letuln from Europe?"
asked Constance, with breathless inter
est.
SIN September, suppose. Come Conuy,
don't you want to walk down to the rost.of-
flee? I'm SO tired of doing nothing"
The two girls had just emerged from the
shady line upon the quiet country road,
when a tall young man of far-haired Saxon
style of face passed them, carelessly dofing
his cap to Constance Dale.
"Who is that, Con ~ whispered Miss
Creswick, turning her stately head to look
after the vanishing figure.
"Mr. Egerton's nephew Percy Wylde,"
"The parsons nephew? How handsome
he is! Why didn't you Introduce him ~
''Shall call him back ?" asked Miss
Dale, laughing
"Nonsense. Is he villager?'
'No; he is here for few weeks enjoying
our fine scenery and delicious mountain
air."
Good said Miriam, nodding her head.
"We can help to amuse each other
here"
Miriam" cried Constance, with face
that was really shocked, "you would not
hirt " ith him merely for pastime?'
ITO be sure would" laughed Miriam.
Don't be fool, Conny--men are our nat
ural prey, just as we are theirs"
And she only made fun of poor Con-
stances indignant remonstrances
81 hope he won't speak to you, that's all"
said Constance.
YOU'RE not in love with him yourself,
cara" laughingly demanded Miriam.
"of course not" flashed out Constance,
with flaming cheeks; ''only do not like to
sec any creature, whether brute or human,
cruelty hunted down."
at won't hurt him." said Miriam
dryly.
And true to her word, she did rot allow
twenty-four hours to elapse before she got
acquainted with the parsons good-lookina
nephew.
Apparently Mr.. Wylde was quite ready
for a flirtation--and, TO speak the truth i
would have been rather difficult to avoiC
falling into Miss Creswick's erchantingly
spread snares.
Picnics, boating parties and dreamy ram
Bles up the mountain side, all conspired t
aid the SIRENS plans, while Constance look
ed on grieved and troubled, and sorely snx
ious to warn Percy Wilde against the pit
falls he was so surely nearing.
"Butwha can I say" sighed poor littl,
Constance Dale. "lIiriam is SO beautiru
and so fascinating while am nothing bu
country girlr'
So the time passed on, until the ripe, ful
beauty of the summertide was at its height
and Miss Creswick was packing her trunk
to join her aunt at Cape May.
"Of course, it has been very charmiu
here, she said as she sat on the old farl
house piazza in the moonlight the night b.
fore her departure; "but one can't dream O