The Madisonian. (Virginia City, Mont.) 1873-1915, 1895-03-23
~perpTexlty, and then a wild flush took
lA.. =, A. l-.- AN--

OH, pluCklng at the hawthorn bush. The
white may smelled rank, but strange
and soothing. The petals shivered and
fell. Miranda's heart beat on, wonder.
ing. Something clapped at it's doors
again and again. Would she open?
What was this impatient visitor that
pleaded SO for entrance? She had so lit.
tie knowledge. She was but newly ar
rived upon the world. Her emotions
We're still strangers to her. She was a
pilgrim still among her new sensations.
Ought she to open? Nay, to stay so and
wonder was surely pleasantest. One day
she would throw wide the doors and
look. But now it was sweet to feel that
hand upon the knocker, that clutching
at the latch. and lie trembling within
in feigned insecurity. She turned and
faced him. Straightway the clamor
ceased. and in her heart was silence.
She looked MIN coldly in the face.
"You smile for love?' she asked.
eyes, DEAR" said he, land for the
thought Of you"
"Oh, you take me too lightly" she
broke out. You do not guess what a
solemn thing this love may be. You
futter into a thousand follies on the
scantest reflection. You will dance, and
you will play, and you will jingle jangle
through your holiday world without a
thought for anything but pirouettes and
jigs and whirligigs of laughter. The
most sOnOrOuS of sacred sorrows may
sound in your ears, and wake no echo
but a jape within your heart. And you
would put me upon that dead plane Of
ribald merriment with yourself? l will
laugh with you. Yes. l will go beg of
you for jests in my jocund seasons. l
am willing to shrek over your whim-
sicalities at my W pleasure. In my
serene unthinking moments l will be
content to exchange humors with you,
and to vow hat life were more than
void and dull were not such as you at
my beck. But when l have opened my
chamber and fastened the door upon
myself my soul and l shall be alone to-
gether, and | will weep and pity and
repent and ache out my heart with sor-
rows in which you can have no lot. l
am young, but l have an inkling Of
what the world may mean"
1.-THE world" said he, ''means hap
piness."
"The world" she retorted, ''means
tears and bitter wringing of the hands.
Have I not heard of death? And have l
not seen pain? You think me gay, yet
how long shall l keep this gayety in my
heart? l go round upon the wheel. 1t
turns and changes. What shall beta
tomorrow that I should not weep today?
You would pluck me with no greater
consideration than you would pick a
flower from it's stalk wherewith to deck
your coat. Should it wither or fall
adjust, another will serve until the COM
ing of the wine. Look you, you will
sigh and weep for love, and your signs
will be smiles, and your tears will be
laughter. Fortnight your heart is
singing like a lark. Yours! Yours is the
shallowest of paltry passions"
Il would do much for you," said he.
"Give up your dimples," cried Mi.
randa, "and so to the churchyard with
a wry face?"
even that" he answered, nodding.
"Pah!' said she, "you will not con-
tain your face lugubriously for five min
utes by the clock. Though you shall re-
member to be sober for two sentences,
at the third you will be whistling, and
the fourth will find you holding your
Sides"
He moved a step tow ard her.
"And if / should die for you?" he
asked pleadingly.
Miranda gasped. She contemplated
his face with uncertainty. His eyes
shone with the dew of tears. His hands
trembled. It was the corner of his
mouth betrayed him. Miranda burst in.
to laughter.
"You!' she cried. "You! Why.
you would forget my coffin as it passed,
and the color of my face ere my back
was upon you. See here" she said, IL
will give you to the hedge for misery.
but l swear you will take the lane as
jauntily as an hour since. Get you
gone, my merry man, and come again
to dispute with me in an idle humor.
File, fe, to think on you and death in
the same company"
He sighed and turned away.
"You have the smallest heart of any
maid l know" he said, shaking his
head.
"The better for my laughter. " laugh.
ed Miranda.
He moved across the meadow, his
head hanging, his eyes downcast, his
stick dragging among the daisies. Mi.
randa stared after him, her lips parted
in amusement. He climbed the stile,
and stopping on the topmost step turn.
ed to her again.