Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-08-12

yearnlnR sensation seized me, supplanted by a nervous, chilling agitation. It was the first time I had felt my self-possession leaving me since came to the Hall; stand ing there before the group of ill-fated sons and daughters branded with disinheritance, Q flood of emotions indescribable rushed over me, and l muteiy motioned Peggy to go on.
 Gently, then, she turned tho face coming 1 first in order over. A bright face met my sympathetic vision, with 0 half-serious, | half-pIayful expression. "Lionel," said Peggy, "an' that's all Oi know ov i'm, be- | cause his curse fell long forninst mo loifc"
 The next, q beautiful face with dark, ex- prcssive eyes and perfect mouth pro- | claimed her tho daughter of proud fam ily. "Agatha," said Peggy, wiping off the dust with caressing movement. "An' it's her, ma'am, that ran away with young
 Frinch Count, because the family couldn't
 bear the loikes ov Frinchman. She died, poor thing, away off ill France, somewhere on the banks O the Seine. An she niyer ! coon back afthur her family forbid her iver showin' her proud, wilful facc again at the Hall"
 There were two moro portraits of the broken hearted, disinheritcd children who had gone out from the doors, and of whose fate none at the Hill cared to know after 1 the gates had been shut against them. The next face was that of a handsome young
 man, whose dark, soulful eyes looked into mine as if to say, ''pity me-" Allan" Clarkson murmured, as the fascinating orbs appealed to us, "puir Allan he was sint away in disghrace, ma'am, all because he loved 0 cottage lassie insthead ov tho wan his family chose out ov the high careless" "Did he ever como backs" asked, pity ing this promising young face so early clouded because of vanity.
 'Och hoonv' moaned Peggy, "an' Allan was nivcr the wan to come back, ma am. He married the lassie and took her with | him whin he left the counthry, me Leddy."
 "And you know nothing more of his his tory thcn?" asked, catching Q last glimpse of the dark, honest eyes as she turned the portrait back to tho wall.
 "No more'n ye know ov the dead, ma'am only rumor now an thin, an' rumors don't | count for any thing"
 But when the housekeeper put her with cred hand, trembling with increased agita- | ton, on tho rim of the last reversed portrait, I felt that I was to look on the face of Miriam A delft movement of the trembling hand, ! Q lowering of the crimson cord and the proud, beautiful features of my friends un-
 happy child swung over to tho dim, dreamy | light of the long, silent gallery. | All InlS Wuu IS uuc pult, prOuO-QcartCO
 childer of mo Leddy Parcival," sobbed Clarkson.
 "Miriam," said, nervously. "The same, ma'am," replied Peggy, chok- | ing back sob, while her warm Irish henrt ! ached for the vision of the proud face which had nestled on her bosom in years agone l Should tell her of Miriama looked into | the smoldering fire of the eyes on the can vas, and caught the answer as if by intui-
 tion. No!
 The picture fascinated me strangely. ! There was something about it so inexpress- | lbly sweet, yet proudly sorrowful withal, that my whole soul went out to the sad, i'm
 perious woman, buried, as 1t were, at Bay | view, with more fervency than ever before What tale those tirmly-shut lips might : unfold could they speak What 0 dearth of paternal affection, what loneliness of life could the Miriam beyond tho sea reveal if | she chose to tell it all
 l And this was the portrait, then, I was to carry home with me, and 1, as yet, had no plan to assist me in keeping my rash promise.
 Poor girlv I said softly, as Clarkson turned the face to the wall once morc Daughter of my friend, and como to this |. her proud face turned to the wall in the hall l of her ancestors!
 I could not trust myself to say more, and Clarkson led the way to Q corner, where the 1 shadows were tittingly the thickest, and ! startled mo by saying in a curious tone:
 "An' here is the masthur, ma'am, a hangln'
 all alone; all alone! The Leddy Parcival