The Springdale news., 1889-12-06
MIRIAM.
The Romance oi HGltlGllaigh Hall.
By MASDA L. CRocKER.
 CoPYRI84-E, 1ss9,
CHAPTER x1y.-CaNrINt.rn.


 "Alas alas! another golden opportunity has flown from me, and l am left in my house desolate! desolate!n
 Sir Rupert rose from his chair, and, stretching oat his arms as if to grasp some unseen object, took 8 step forward and fell prone on the floor. The terrified James now seized the belI-pu1 and sent it's hur- ried summons loudly through the Hall.
 In moment hurrying feet came up the staircase and wild, frightened faces looked in.
 "The masters fainted,n explained the butler, trying in vain t9 lift him up. ''He imagines the mistress is here, and wanted me to coax her to stay with him. And when l told him she was gone, and the little one also, why, he just gotup and took On awful ly, and finally he fainted dead away"
 They removed the inanimate form of their master to his sleeping apartment and ap- phed restoratiyes, which they found at hand in q side cupboard there.
 Sir Rupert slowly regained consciousness, moaning and murmuriug of Miriam. And all night long they staid, faithful servants that they were, by Sir RCperf, anddid what they could 10 relieve him. Once he opened his eyes very wide and started up, saying: "Oh! ask her, ask her-but stop, she is gone. you sayf'
 Then he lay down again, turning lis face to the wall, and shivered as ifseized with an aguefit.
 Let i'm doie," said Aucil, unfeelfngly ''Let i'm, and Il viii bethe ind ov it.
 '.Shet up, ye baste,' snapped Peggy, under her breath, as under the touch of her skiuful, motherly hand the master fell into atroubled sleep.
 T,1C+ nS Ta t.Nsy- 1a4,-y, fllfEba1 the st and the fresh breeze swept over the silent world in token of the coming morning, Sir Rupert sank into a quiet, restfal sleep, and the servants retired, leaving thelr master in calm, unroubled rCpose.
 But after that memorable day of angry meeting, of regret and compunction, fol- lowed by an almost fatal hallucDation bringing hours of wakeful agony, Sir Ru- pert was a strangely altered man.
 Mild and gentle in tone and manner, even to the least of them, he commanded at last the love and respect of the much tried hous ehold. They learned to pity him for his tettering step and whitened crown, and to love him for the sake of one whom fate had driven forever from Heatherleigh. Invariably they murmured 'poor master !h when he walked alone about the grounds, halting here and there to rest and to think
 The dwellers of the country side pitied Sir Rupert from afar, and gradually, al most imperceptibiy, drifted back to the long-avolded Hall. Dropping in on one pre- text and another, they stroye to console him and brighten the gloom of his declining years; but, after all, the master of Hcath- erleigh was slow in accepting any proffered kindness, and seemed to look upon even old aequantances as intruders. It seemed, in spite of their endeavors to be friendly, that they had failed ill impressing Sir Rupert fayorably.
 "The Pcrciyal grit was ill him, barrin' all his lamb Ioike ways, Peggy said.
 Occasionally Sir Rupert would ride out sometimes to the elergyman's, sometimes 10 the city to interview his attorney. And again he would spend half day i'll leaning back in his fayorite carriage and being driven slowly through the parks, across the commons or back and forth along the pleasant reaches and sunny slopes of Fair light.
 What his thoughts were during these long, solemn drives not a soul could guess, and he never conveyed by a single mono syllable one impulse of his soul. And the weary hearted coachman felt as if he were driving his masters hearsc over lonely, beaten ways rather than ms animate self during these sorrowful, soul-dcpressng outings. Many pitied Sir Rupert as he passed by, but many more sympathized with and pitied the long-suffering coach man.
 Perhaps the austere soul of Sir Rupert was relenting-was doing earnest peuance in the wordless marches. An! 1t might have been deepest compunction was busy with the long-neglected heart, and dong it's work in the dark depths of his silent soul perhaps that calm serenity on his daugh- ters face as she called 10 him across the portals of the home he had denied her in that last good-bye; perhaps tho beautiful features of the little son. framed in by it's long golden ringlets and a pair of baby arms outstretched toward his unrelenting heart, had a part in the softening process of Sir Ruperts speech and manner. And perhaps it was on this sorrowful and af- fectlonate picture that he dwet in these dumb, lonely days. All conjectured, but none knew.
 Once, after having been driven to Fair light church, he wanted to be taken to Oak Lawn.
 l | was m the autumn time, and the day was cold for the season. and drcarY enough to have remained indoors, especially for one so frail and woe-begoue. But he wanted to go, desired to see "once more,h he said, the beautiful grounds of Oak Lawn, where rcposed the dust of Lady Percival
 And patient John mad driyen slowly,