Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-08-17

hnd wanted her to come, but had not urged
 knowing that her heart was SOTO over her losses.
 She walked the length of the bit of beach
 below the rocks where she had been sitting out the morning. A great white gull cir. cled over her head and sped away as free az air. The morning sun danced on the calm waters, and few white drifting clouds lay lazily above the downs stretching away to- ward the city.
 It was on day something like this, though not nearly so perfect, that she and Arthur were married; but not with sanction and merry making which would smile God speed for Patricia.
 Hark! what was thatl Was it Patty,s wedding chimess She hardly thought she
 could hear the bells of St. Martin from
 where she stood. But, yes; it must be
 them. Miriam put her hands quickly to her cars to shut out the sound, and sat down by an overturned boat to think Was she self
 ish-hearted, that she could not bear to hear
 the ringing of the bills even? No: but
 some way it brought 1t all back so vividIy-
 her own wedding night. Not like Patty's
 marriage, celebrated in the glow of the beautiful morning, amid friends and music and flowers; no, in the shadows and quiet,
 somber interior of lonely little All Salnts'
 she was given away by a stranger, and as
 wife she crossed the gloomy porch and
 walked by the dead, out to the portals of the quiet church-yard, without song. without Q flower, or a smile
 Well, 1t was fitting, after all; the cere- mony was only . type of all the rest. Nol not all, for Arthur, dear, dead Arthur was true | and affectionate, but she meant the dark side of the after years. She had only the shadows of death in view this morning;
 they were always trailing across her path. way; their dank denseness had grown sec. l ond nature to her soul, for she had become | morbid on shadows.
 But 1t wouldn't do, this moping forever
 in the mists; she would go up to the house, | and be glad for Patricia. About now the
 fair village lassies were strewing flowers in
 Patty's way-happy Patty!
 Drawing the soft, rich wrap about her
 frail shoulders, Miriam toiled weariiy up
 over the rugged path toward the Rest, try ing to feel happy for dear sister Patty's sake. Where turn came in the path, by
 rock jutting out from among it's hoary fellows, Miriam paused for rest. 1 She might have had the carriage and have
 driven down the beach road, but she chose
 to be alone. The presence of even the boy | in livery would have disturbed her to-day, she thought, so she had descended the
 bridle-path alone for her morning walk on l the shore.
 Far away she caught sight of sails gleam-
 ing in the sunlight; some pure white, some
 cream and rose-tinted, and great wave of | something like homesickness crept over
 her. The letter which a white winged
 messenger had sped away with months ago
 had been answered. And that dear friend
 of her mothers had said: "Come;" but only
 few days after tho receipt of the friendly
 epistle raging fever had seized her and
 she had lowered between this world and the
 next for days. Since then she had not been
 strong enough to undertake 0 voyage, espe- | cially unattended.
 In those uncertain days of her severe Ill.,
 ness Patricia had never left her bedside.
 Devoted and kind, she had nursed her
 through until the physician said: "She will | live" Why she had not been permitted to
 cross over and enter into rest and be with
 her beloved ones was to Miriam dark
 problem.
 But now, as soon as she was strong
 enough to warrant starting, she was going | to her mothers friend on the shores of the Narragansett, to cozy little Bay View, as the place had been described to her by letter.