Waterbury Democrat., 1902-02-08
MIR AN DY'S
 RO w
By MRS. GEORGE P. HAsBRoUcK.

t baugh, as they sat together at Widow Diedrich's quilting party; ian Griffin's Corners ud a-been quite as well off eff it ud never heard of such things as summer boarders.'
 'sThat it would returned Mrs. Died- rich, 'tez anybody thetss had 'em knows. They're that fnnicly over their victuals, just past bearin'."
 "They are thet, but there's no deny- in they're right smart, some on 'em; an I s'pose thet's what's taken Miriam dy Nevins.'
 'Nlirandy Nevins?" said Mrs. ober- baugh.
 'sWhy, ain't you heard she's keepin' steady company wi Arthur Morrison, what's boardin' down to Mrs. Van Blum's?''
 "Land sakes alive, eff thet don't beat all! Mirandy, what's close onto 40, got city chap for beau!"
 @Yes, an awfully gone on him too, they say. I tell you, Mirandy's got to look quite chipper.'
 Mrs. Oberbaugh was too much as tonished to reply, nothing quite so startling having come within her no- tice for years.
 ''I hope he's not after her money" Mrs. Diedrich remarked, after pause.
 Bless you, no; rich man like him wouldn't think shucks of Mirandy's little bit; but guess he sees she's capital manager, an Il make things go twice ez far ez one of them city gels"
 ''An' Mirandy's got beau at last. We'll, well, well! I hope it'll turn out good. But, mark my words conclud- ed Mrs. Oberbaugh, with an impressive shake of her head, "you don't often get much from late settin' but added eggs.''
 ''Yes, it was true; Miranda Nevins, who had never felt her heart warm under the sun of love in her youth, was now in middle age basking in a golden afternoon. Left an orphan in early childhood, she had been adopted by relative whose exacting ways had made life very hard for the delicate child. Then came long years of patient nursing of the irritable, penurious in valid, whom she would not leave be- cause of fancied debt of gratitude. At 3S she found herself free, and, greatly to her surprise, the absolute owner of $3,0oo, which the wretched old miser had hoarded even when needing the necessaTies of life. Youth, however, with it's dreams, was gone, and the delicate prettiness she pos sessed as girl had been destroyed by care and toll. As the people at Grif- fms Corners expressed it, ''Mirandy always held up the heavy end''
 Her life had been co1orless and sad beyond expression; not single gleam of love had come into it until she met Arthur Morrison. He loved her-ah, it was impossiblei so she told herself. But had she not said the same when told of her fortune? All day long the poor lonely woman, whose empty heart hungered for affection, repeated the words, until at last all doubt was banished.
 She hardly listened when her lover spoke of his wealth, of his handsome house in the city, of the luxuries with which he would surround her; he loved her, and in that assurance lay a wealth of riches passing all imagina- ton. Everyone noticed how the old careworn look passed away during those days of her lately found happi- ness, and when at times blush would steal over her face, it brought back the beauty of 20 years ago.
 When the first tints of autumn were on the woods MT. Morrison departed, and Miranda, after waiting patiently for that precious thing, her first love letter, wrote herself to the address he had given her. Every morning the neat little woman with the patient eyes would drop into the general store and post office and make a purchase while the mail was being distributed, and though she never yentured to ask if there was letter, her lingering steps and wistful looks were perfectly understood. This had gone on for some weeks, when one morning Miran- da received a letter from the dead let ter office, and found within it her own to Arthur Morrison, scrawled over with different street numbers and the statement that no such person was known. For an hour she sat, with the letter before her, trying 10 un- ravel the mystery; itswas easier to be- lieve that the whole postal force of New York was in league against her than that her lover could be false. She would go to New York, she would find him-ill, perhaps; poor, it might be; dead, even; but false-never!
 Griff1n's Corners had, according to its custom, taken the iveliest inter- est in the progress of Miranda's love affair; but the little woman had been very reticent, and speculation had had to supply the lack of actual informa- tion.
 Miranda's reserve being so we'll known, it was therefore rather a sur prise to find her quietly discussing the qustion of her supposed engagement at the minister's annual dona ton par ty. The little woman was the center of a group, and had an unusual glow of color oh her cheeks a S she spoke.
 "There hadn't been no serious en- gagement, but he'd thought, an she'd thought, an then at last they'd both thought; and then they'd concluded to let the 'ull thing drop right there.''
 "Ans guess you're right, Miranda" replied tEe minister's wife, who was burdened with many children and shared notoriously insufficient in- come. "A woman who can put her 1apIr Q Qnn ~nol i. n...