The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1886-09-10

ing but for drop and morsel of the
good lavished ON Lilias, and of which /
was denied?
turned from the mirror with sigh
and with a movement so abrupt that
something = a small box of parlor
matches-was dislodged and fell to the
floor.
And just then 1 became aware that
somebody had pushed back the open
door and had paused upon the threshold.
AS 1 looked up could feel the hot
blood crimsoning my cheeks, for there
stood Cyril Wolroth, smiling amused
ly, I fancied-at my inconsistent bor-
rowed plumage.
With some mortified and inarticulate
exclamation [ stepped hastily back
ward. One dainty kid boot crushed
down upon the fallen box of treacher-
Gus matches; there was sound as if a
magazine of torpedoes had exploded
beneath my feet, and the next instant
tulle and silk and velvet peach bios
SONS were all in one smoking flame
from my shoulders to the hem of my
skirts.
1t all happened so suddenly that I
scarcely realized my danger. l only
knew that Cyril was springing toward
me; that his face had become as pale
as marble, that the smile had vanished
beneath his golden mustache, and that
his blue eyes had darkened with an
awful fear. And then I was enveloped,
smothered, gasping, within a blanket
he had snatched from the bed of the
inner room, and SO l lknaw no more.
When [ regained my senses 1 was
on mass of rugs and cushions among
the dripping flowers of my little gar
den l was faint and weak, but I felt
myself almost unscorched and quite
unhurt. Shawls and blankets sheltered
me from the thick drizZle, and Cyril was
bending anxiously over me. Twas con-
scious of curiously cracking noises in
the air, and strange red glare about
me.
"What is it?"I said, struggling to
uplift my throbbing head.
But the question was superfiuous. I
instantly understood what was happen
ing My little house, stored with the
meagre fruits of my years of toll and
sacrifice, was burning -crumbling into
ashes before my sight.
Cyril put his arm about me. His
blue eyes were tender, his face was
grave.
81 did what could" he said gently.
"But everything in the room was blaZ-
ing before l had you out of danger. l
sent for help Immediately, and some
thing has been saved"
1 could not utter a syllable. My
sense of loss and homelessness stupi-
fled me.
"Let my love comfort you, Mariana.
I have loved you so long, DEAR" Cyril
said, tenderly, as he drew me toward
him. "Let me build BONNER house
home of which you. shall be mistress
wife ever loved"
And so it was not Lilias it was I,
lowly 1, who was to be blessed with the
love of Cyril Wolroth.
In the wonder of it all, in my graft
tude and infinite CONTENT was only
capable of some sobbing incoherency;
but he understood, and his grave face
frightened as he bent his head and
kissed me on the brow and cheeks and
lips.
A half hour later, l was reposing on
sofa in the yellow stone house among
the green oak trees.
~ had expected you with Lilias.
My sending Cyril back for you was
really providential," Miss Isabella said,
with sympathy and sincere kindness.
81 shall keep you now, dear Mariana,
until you and my brother are married"
"That won't be long," smilingly in
terposed my lover, who was already
assuming proprietary airs where was
concerned.
And we were, indeed, married very
soon afterward.
II knew very well it wasn't daffodil
bulbs and rose cuttings which brought
him so often to see you" Lilias re-
marked mischievously. "But he is
nice-Cyril is ! And 1 envy you, de-
clare 7 do Amt Mariana