Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1885-09-20

,Sori,s deferred 10 her in everything,
hat On ouietly. and with such tact, that
she never knew the extent Oh ner power
but by its results. Yet, in spite Of his
constant companionship, in spite Of his
Difference and attention, in spite Of all
those signs and words that almost any
woman but herself would have inter-
preted Alright, she went on from day to
day. never dreaming Of the old feel
ipgs she had awakened, never
thinking how dear she was be-
coming to Guy Chester. She had
given up ali thought Of love
or marriage for herself when Tom
Ridgway disappeared she indeed al
most considered the thought of such
thing a dissertation, and, as time went
on, she never sighed for the home-loye
she had so sadly missed, though she
valued it more highly, il possible, than
even that Of her early friends who re-
ioiced in the love Of husband and
children.
The winter naturally interrupted the
work at the manor, and summer was
we'll advanced before the last laborer
finished his work. Muriel had not
visited it for some time, and one warm
AFTER DON the Squire came to take her
over the house now it was completed.
"If have not your approval shall
feel that all the work has been wasted"
he said, and she wondered a little at
his earnestness and shrank from meet
inc his ewes. as if she feared to find a
hidden meaning there. But even 1t
disposed, she could scarcely have with
held her approval. The work had been
conducted with exquisite taste; no.
thing that could be retained had been
disturbed there had been no wanton
destruction of old ideas or picturesque
effects. The only real additions were
the Conservatives, which were already
filed with a wealth Of summer blooms.
Muriel loved flowers, and was well
skilled in their management.
"What Paradise this is already be-
coming " she exclaimed, as they
| looked down the long vista OF green.
81 am glad you are pleased with 1t.
| | have taken especial care to have your
suggestions carried OUT and the
'S0uire, well satisfied, carried her of to
have tea on the smooth lawn in front OF
| the house.
After the pleasant meal was over,
Muriel went to see the new stained
glass window in the picture-gallery.
IL looked toward the west, and the
long, oak-panelled room was filled with
q glory of colored light. Muriel stood
by the cushioned window-seat and
watched the effect. In the centre
blazed the 'Squire's cost-of arms, glo-
rious in CLEAN of gold and bravery of
color. with the motto below " In life,
hope"
IL have often been sustained by
those words" Guy Chester said, gen.
tly drawing her down to the seat be-
side him. "For ten years, Muriel,
have had but one faint hope to cheer
me, without which | verify believe l
should have died"
"You loved your home so much,
and yet you stayed away so many
years "
II loved my home, as you say; but
it was not the hope Of seeing that
which sustained me; could have re-
turned whenever | wished; it was the
far dearer hope Of again seeing the
woman | loved"
Muriel knew-she could not but
know-the meaning of his words; she
tried to rise, but he caught her hands
and pleaded his cause with imprisoned
earnestness.
"My darling, you must have seen
how love you. | have striyen to let
YOU see how dear you are to me. DO
not let me despair-only give me one
word Of hope, and | will wait as long
as you like. will accept any condi-
ton you may propose, so long as you
promise to be mine at last. Muriel,
my dearest love, you cannot tell what
| have suffered all this time. | went
away because | dared not look upon
your happiness. have suffered much,
and done that would give worlds to
recall, for love of you. Surely, you
will give me the little hope | ask"
lie paused, for Muriel was weeping
silently her thoughts flew back, as
they often did, to her first lover, and
she said, brokenly:
"You are very good. lnever thought
Of this-if had but known"
"Oh, my darling, do not bid me de
spair :" he interrupted. - can wal
for your answer; | will not urge i
now; speak to your aunt before yol
decide. | will come for my answer to
morrow" and with long, tender kiss
on the hand he had held all the time il
his, he left her.
Murel went home with her brain il
4 tumult. She was too agitated t.
think; she could not collect he
thoughts nor analyze her own heart.
Miss Franklin was at the door, AM
her quick EYE discerned the traces o
tears on her niece's face.
Come in, my dear; | can CUES
what has happened" she said in he
firm, gentle voice, and she listene'
while Muriel told her.
Miss Franklin was not taken by sur
prise, she only wondered that the SPUR
had not spoken before, and she espouset
his cause warmly.
"My dear, cannot think it RICH
that should let your old love stand i
t the WAY. You must not waste you
} life for the sake of one bitter sorrow.
but, aunt, my life is not wasted
= am quite contented and happy wit
= you"
1 Nuriel. my dear, | do not want 20
$ to imagine for a moment that | am tire
: of your companionship. do not kno'
S what should do without you, but yo
: must remember that am not a youn
|, woman. In all human probability 20
o have many years Of life to live after
= have gone. Besides, you must think
a little of the Squire. lie loves you yer
much, and fully believe you would b
happy with him.
. So, by dint Of loving counsel an
! faithful advice, Miss Franklin game
the 'Souire's cause and in tho NOR,