The Red Cloud chief., 1889-12-27

| pan wing necklace up with q far-awav. pre-
occupied air and shut them in their elegant
cases with q sigh.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Il is May. and a beautiful day, with a
symphony lingering IN tine fragrant air.
Miriam is out among the rose5uds that
beautify the cl2mberiug vines as they wait
| for the breath of Jun to unfold their glory.
And, instead of the pale, pinched express
sion on her perfect features as in the win
ter, the flush Of health anG-may / say nap
piness yes, happiness, creeps into her
| oval face, where the dimples of her girl
| hood are still visible.
The silken ringlet entwined with its
biobon of blue. which SO moved the heart
of Allan Percival, is not to be compared
with the luxuriant tresses straying in
| shining lengths down over her shoulders.
Miriam Percival Fairfax has outiived the
crucible years of her life; the dark chap
tiers of her strange history are being fol-
lowed up By bright, golden pages. fragrant
with the love Of a bIissfui, happy summer
70 be.
l had q difficult task, indeed, TO persuade
her that the dream Of seeing Peggy and of
hearing her seeming prophetic words would
all come 20 naught. But l fancy. although
she declares yet Al times that 'it means
something TO come her faItr n night
visions is on the wane.
| But the roses bud whs,e last year the
rue grew darby luxuriant. and the smiles,
the rarest of ali rare things then, are slip
ping gradually into her days.
Some time g she came to me with her
fine voice all a-trembie, and wondered to
me if l thought il would be proper TO wear
1r,.-af .aAf-4l r., h4. ~ $ba
somber Grape folds had grown to be iden-
| teal with Miriam. l should not have known
her, / thought. without them-but ten long,
Borrowing years for a young heart to throb
beneath the garb of mourning was enough:
who could ask more. Then. too. mourning
was of the heart, not the habilineuts alto
gether, and if this lone woman has found a
silver lining to the heavy clouds Of her
heavens, why not?
eyes, said. perfectly proper, dear, see
ing tha; Allan is coming"
Then she smiled one of her rare, perfect
smiles, witch can neither be forgotten nor
| described, and said she should go down to
the city and make some purchases"
Sly little puss: did she imagine that /.
VINO had played the part Of a detective for
q tweivemoutn o. more. could be hood
wInked into '.spring fashions" IN this man
ner! If she did, she has reckoned without
her host, as l mentally cite a wedding Gay
somewhere adown this golden summer; a
perfect Gay in June, no doubt, as Nay is
waning. All. yes: methInks l hear wed
dIng-bells, and their clear, sweet music Is
in harmony with the symphony of the day.
But Miriam. A couple Of letters lying IN
her lap bear foreign post-marks, and she
has been reading them softly to herself.
smiling the while. as if the contents were
pleasing in the extreme.
Tn soft. gray texture of her ~dress-she
chose gray for afternoon costume, but
there is a beautiful white satin folded ava
amid a cloud of costly lace for another oc-
c~asIon-falls from her Queenly figure in full
folds. and ste looks every inch a veri,able
queen: this stately. proud daughter of the
Percivals.
"Heatherleigh is in the past" she says,
turning her head. with Q smile which Is
Percivais have nothing more in its somber
shadows. No; NO more, foreverr'
"Sold!r ask.
"Yes; disposed Of" she look
ing away seawsrd. The fair face 1ushes
and pales ftfully. There is a strong tide Of
memory su-ging up from the past; a thou
sand thoughts are coming to the front for
recognition, and it is safe to say they are
net pleasant ones.
work away on my embroidery and fin
ish an impossible grape cluster IN smoky
purple without pretending to offer any
IN ng further. Such things are best thought
out in silence, / hare learned. So we sit an
hour IN the soft. sweet weather without q
word: she looking seaward and down At
the letters alternately, and / attentive to
my embroidery, with an occasional glance
at her face. She will speak presently. and
tell me what she is thinking about ! have
known her long enough to know this, and
work away, awaiting her pleasure.
Il have sent to the Hall for a few things, -
she begins, just IS l expected h would;
a i'll am happy enough to get those the
whole place knLwn IS Heatherleigh may
rest for aye under the curse of Sir Leon
Heatherieigh, for aught l care"
Her face aushes crimson, then pales like
q lily; she Is still r~evengeful and passion
ATE in her hatred of the Hall I had thought
she had forgotten the old. desperate days,
but she has not ] do not answer; I have
NO words. I scarcely ever have when Mir
lam towers up in speeches like this, and
she relapses into another reverie. as disa-
g~reeable, perhaps, as the first
Peggy Garrison never told you,'' she be-
gins again, ''of . certain nights work OF
ours, did she-hers and miner
Her face assumes Q look OF mingled
pride and defiance, and she smiles Q little
q / answer NO"
Il thought she could be trusted, even
unto DEATH" and her eyes filed with tears,
in memory Of the deceased servant 'Eow
after 1t is all over and done with, I win tel;
you our little secret" she said, cnn6den.
tally.