The Red Cloud chief., 1889-10-18

Arthur lived she would have continued
her residence here ard would have kept the
elegant home, beautified and cared for, foF
him.
But with bis death all her plans cher
ished for his future were laid exav with
him, and nothing now remained but to get
away from it all.
The breeze swept up from the sea and
through the open easement, dallying with
the loose Grape sleeve of her dress, the
sweet English violets lent their breath to
the caress Of the wind, and q bird in the
garden below began ITS vesper song.
Miriam shut her eyes and leaned back in
the depths Of her chair to dream OF
fond baby fingers stealing up around her
neck, and OF . deep, musical voice calling
tenderly across the vale: Miriam, dearest,
goodbye"
Patricia rose quietly and glanced at her
sister-in-law, and seeing her eyes closed
said, softly: ''She is resting. poor darling"
Then she went out, leaving her, as she
thought, to q refreshing nap.
'-Of course she said to herself. with q
bright blush Of happiness. ''Of course,
Hollis Will purchase Miriam's home if she
wishes to dispose of it, but we would rather
she would 1--we with US instead of going TO
America"
And the litne little English girl glanced
down on onedimpled hand. where a brilliant
solitaire flashed IN silent Affirmative.
Miriam opened her eyes slowly. Patricia
had gone downstairs, and she was alone,
alone In the sweet June twilight, with the
Luusic of the clear, evening bells. chorusing
the deep bass of the sea, floating tenderly.
softly around her. The plainiive song Of
| Pahip a2as- ,ar,a mn S-or below .DA Sna
knew the old man with his bagpipes was
making mis- rounds once more for Jus, wan
~ha'-penny. please" ..Friendless aud poor.
perhaps sorrowful also" she murmured,
leaning over the window ledge.
Yes: he was coming her way, and would
stop just beneath her window, as usual.
Poor old fellow; ne aped the dress OF the
Highlander and doubtless thought the
music Of his bagp!pes equal TO any Of
SCOTS minstrel melodies. Well, he was q
sorrv-lookng minstrel of the degenerate
latter days, TO say the least
There, what Was that ne vas singing. in
his rich Scotch broCuei Hark! the song
had changed. and Where my bonnie lore
lies sleeping is what ne ESSAYS in his
quaint voice. She would so down and drop
3 penny in the wIthered palm.
why do you sing that sorrovful song,
my friend. questioned Miriam, opening the
lower sash and recognizing in the dreamy
light the picturesque Saro OF the aged man
whom Arthur loved to hear sing.
The song ceased, and caressing his bag
pipes with loving touch he made answer:
All, lady fair, sair is me heart for the
bouuie love gone out of me life"
Then your lows is dead as well as mine"
said Miriam. with q tremor Of hopeless pain
running through her words.
The quick ear Of the man with the rusty
looking bagpipes noted the qlaver Of tears
IL her voice, and a sudden mist came be-
tween him and the world.
Yes. me daring is dead" he replied,
'but the guide Gods will be done: I'm not
the wan to be unhappy, ma for wan
glorious day I'll cross over where the music
is finer. and I'll lind her there"
He put his trembling fingers once more
On his pipes, dropped his head and began:
"And where my love lies steering
The angels keep watch and ward"
''Don't, don't,r walled Miriam. in q
helpless tone, you mean to comfort, no
doubt, but you only wound afresh. l can
not say with you that ! am not unhappy,
for / am 81 miserable, SO desolate, SO
crushed! Here is money for u comfort.
If there be any comfort in it; but 90 not
sing that song for me again, please"
She put a handful OF shining silver pieces
in tie faded cap. and bidding him ''good
night shut the window Town gently and
went upstairs.
-Bagpipes belong to the Scotchman, /
know she said to Patty on the stairs.
but they WORRY me tonight as much as If
they were in the hands of unsophisticated
Teddy McGlynn."
But Patricia knew that irilm was trying
70 Ensemble.