Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-08-22
MIRIAM.
The Romance of HeatlGllcigh Hall
CHAPTER XXIlI.

CHAPTER XXIl1.
 We have been having an outing, Gladys and l. We have taken that little run up the Thames for which we were booked somc time.
 Gladys, having some friends in London, and wishing to see them also, we spent a couple of days there. FroE, there we start ed for the delightful country trip. It would have been more to my liking to have gone in midsummer, but the summer was past, the opportunity had gone by. and the upper Thames had been left until now.
 No matter; we found ourselves at the Great Western Paddington station one fino morning, with lunch-hamper in hand. Gladys remembers tho lunch item, if nothing else, cn route for Taplow
 Away we roll out of the big city and across the quiet peacefulness of a beauti- full stretch of country. The fields, however, were unfortunately rather brown and bare, it being too late in the season for field dais- ies or bright and blooming hedge rows. It seemed to me a kind of solemn, quiet loneh- ness pervaded the landscape, and I ceased to look from my compartment and shut my eyes to the outside glimpses of the real world, busying myself in delving into the impossible and-perhaps-pos ideal world of my own.
 An hours ride brought us to our destina- tion by rail.
 From Maidenhead we were to go by boat to Marlowe. There q friend meets us, and VIC go winding away across the country again to Oxford-renowned old Oxford and from there to Q little nook in the hills miles further on; Gladys old home, you know.
 l do not know that have time to tell you of all tho beautiful landscapes, wooded parks, soft, hay meadow stretches, still green and inviting. and the thousand other lovely visions which will be green in mem . ory for many long day. But wish to say that our ride on the Thames from Maiden head to Marlowe was one round of delight ful surprises and enjoyable diversion. There are many picturesque scenes on the banks of this old, much-sung, much-painted river. With it's numerous locks, weirs, lovely old mills and hospitable inns, with it's pictur- esque scenery of wooded heights and hand some and wreathed, ivy-crowncd churches and country seats, ''old Father Thames" is remembered as a very genial friend.
 No wonder the artist raves; no wonder the poet strikes his sweetest, grandest num- bers along his banks. No wonder, 1 say, no | wonder
 Oxford being on the flow of the Thames also, regretted very much that we had not had time to boat 1t further; but neces sity knows no compromise with inclination, and Gladys must go by another route. Days and days it would have taken us, Gladys said, to have gone up the river to | Oxford, and of course it would, when we come to take into consideration the classic windings of the stream.
 Well, l am sure 1 missed Q great deal o1 | beauty and loveliness, but it can not be | helped now, nor could 1t have been. Gladys old home nestles in bright little | nook among the hills, and beautiful little | country residence it is, situated on the banks of the Thames, but not the grca, l river we left behind us at Marlowe, or OK. ford, for instance.
 No; quiet, silvery, unpretentious flow 1 just below the garden, where we stood and watched birds of migration pass over our | heads in the gray of the evening light, while the brisk breeze went by and sighed itself to death among the hills. The house itself is also ivy-wreathed- every thing is ivy-wreathed, or ivy crowned, it seems to me, in merrie old England-as well as the more pretentious neighboring residences; a alow-eaved, many gabled affair, with solid masonry and heavy wooden shutters. A little, wooded park and an antiquated-looking summerhouse at