The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1894-11-03

that she refused, aftianced as she felt
herself TO her ideal.
The curate was q gcol young man,
handsome, too, with good brains, good
heart and good expectations. He
was devoted to Miranda, and his
sober fancy had never pictured any
thing so fair and sweet as this reality.
the poor young ecclesiastic was
very unhappy when she refused him.
He never smiled again for at least a
week. Then he pulled himself to-
gether and went about his business
manfully.
In May Miranda land Ferdinand)
went to London, where the pretty
country girl was good deal admired
and enjoyed herself very much. In
deed. she was pronounced bewitching;
there was no monotony about her, and
there was touch of innocent CO
quetry.
Soon after she reached her aunt's
house Miranda had gone into that
third room; but everything there was
differently arranged, and the photo
graph screen had disappeared. She
dared ask no questions about it.
One day at breakfast her aunt read
letter that seemed to give her con-
siderable pleasure.
my dear" said she, Charles
coming"
"Who is Charlie?" asked Miranda.
who had never heard of him before.
"My DEAR" replied her aunt, rather
solemnly, Charlie is the son of me
first and only love; the man I should
probably have married if he hadn't
preferred some one else"
''Oh, poor auntie!" said Miranda,
with ready sympathy.
''Not at ALL me dear! should
have been poor If I'd married him,
for he would have spent all me
money. He married richer woman
and spent all hers?"
"Apd is he alive now?"
"No, me dear-both are dead long
ago. He got himself killed by tiger
out in India, and it killed her too
Not the tiger, but the loss of her hus-
band. Indeed, then, she was far
fonder of him than ever was. Some
well off uncle looked after their boy,
and got him into the F. o. He's been
in Canada these three years, and now
he writes me word he's coming home,
and will be in London next week. So
sit We down, M iranda child, and send
him card for me dance next Thurs
day."
Miranda did as she was hidden in n
little flutter of agitation. An ex-
quisite possibility had occurred to
her. Could this be the original?
Could Charlie be Ferdinand?
Isis he nice, auntie?" she asked
TREMENDOUSLY.
"Well, me dear, you'll see for your
self. Oh, yes! Charlie is nice enough,
but not so nice or handsome as his
poor father, me first and only love"
Thursda y came; the guests came
more than could ever get upstairs.
Charlie arrived early and did get up
stairs. His hostess, glorious in green
velvet and diamonds, pounced on him,
took both hands, and kissed him
before the assembled multitude.
Presently Miranda made her ap-
pearance, and being effusively intro
duced to each other, they went off to
the ballroom together, Miranda's
heart beat little faster when they
met; for one moment she had seemed
to recognize the beautiful dark eyes
of Ferdinand. But all, no, no! That
round foolish face inclined to be
chubby, that nose inclined to be
snubby, that wide mouth forever
widencd { by schoolboy grin!
Hyperion to satyr! And as for
those eyes, there was no speculation
in them, and it would have been diff
ficult indeed to find genius and great
ness in their shadows, thought Mi
randa, as Charlie prattled namely at
her side.
Miranda went to bed that night
vaguely disappointed and unhappy,
and had painful dream of a dis
torted Ferdinand photographed on n
spoon. Charlie came to luncheon next
day. Miranda was tired and a
little cross; she found him horribly
embarrassing. Nice? How could
auntie say he was nice? He had not
two ideas; he chartered like an ape
and was quite as ugly; his eyes were
not the least like Ferlinand's. He
was an impostor; he bored her: she
wished he would go. He and her
aunt had all the talk to themselves;
Mira nda sat by silent and glum, and
said she had headache. She was
only half conscious that Charlie was
babbling and brag ying of his exploits
on the ice in Canada; she only half
he ard what he said when he asked
her aunt if she had ever got the
photos he sent her year before.
Mine of our skating club and the
what do you call it?-you know"
''Oh, yes" said her aunt. II got
them and put them all into photo
graph screen. 1t used to stand on a
table in the third room up stairs.
dare say it's somewhere up there. Let
us go and look for it,"
photograph screen?" the words
woke up Miranda like pistol shot. AT
last-at last! And what was going
to happen? Was her sin to find her
out? No. she would never confess,
but she felt very guilty, and shook in
her shoes. However, she managed to
walk upstairs in them behind her