Myra

“ There was no sleep for any of the pretty group that night, but closeted in a little bedroom, with a bright fire flashing and glowing over their lovely and eager faces, the young girls plotted and held council together, sometimes laughing at the miserable plight in which Myra had presented herself at the door; sometimes listening with a start, as if amid the rush and pause of the storm, they yet feared to detect the tread of some person in pursuit of the beautiful fugitive. ”

“ Like a plant that keeps green so long as the frost is in its leaves, but withers and droops with the first glow of sunshine, her strength gave way, and there was a time when her very life seemed in jeopardy.
Thus weak and feeble, poor Myra lay upon her couch in the quiet gloom of her sick-chamber, and shrinking from the slightest sound, with that sensitive dread which was itself a pain, she heard a noise upon the stairs. It seemed like the hesitating tread of a man, blended with the eager and suppressed remonstrance of some person who desired to check his progress. ”

“ D. met Myra on the stairs. One glance in her face was enough. “Myra, daughter!” she exclaimed; “what is this? You are white as death—you tremble.”
“Mother—mother!” burst from the lips of the young girl, almost with a shriek; “they tell me that I am not your child!” ”

“ Mr. D., full of unrest as the elements, was pacing the veranda—his face was unnaturally pale in the gleams of lightning, and he paced up and down, unconscious or heedless of the water-drifts that now and then swept over him. Poor Myra sat watching him; the storm within her own breast and the tempest without, imparted to her spirit a wild and reckless courage. She stepped out on the veranda; the rain beat in her pale face, the lightning glared across her eyes, already more than brilliant; she met her father in his walk, and touched his arm with her cold hand. ”

“ Every spire of grass bent as if with the weight of a diamond at its point. The vines and creeping shrubs that grew along the fences seemed blossoming with gems, so thick were the water-drops among their leaves; so bright were the sunbeams that kindled them into beauty. The atmosphere was full of cool, rich fragrance, and every gush of air, as it swept through the ponderous vehicle that bore Myra from her home, was delicious to breathe. ”

“ Myra is Venus, and Diana too;
All that was feign'd of them, apply'd to her, is true:
Then sing, my Muse, let Myra be our Theme.
As when the Shepherds wou'd a Garland make,
They search with Pains the fragrant Meadows round,
Plucking but here and there, and only take
The sweetest Flowers, with which some Nymph is crown'd:
In framing Myra so divinely fair,
Nature has taken the same Care,
All that is lovely, noble, good, we see,
All, beauteous Myra, all bound up in thee. ”

“ All that day Myra avoided the family, above all the gentle 91mother, whose tears she feared far more than the anger of her proud father. She had formed a resolution that required all her courage, and more strength than seemed to animate that slender form. She shrunk, therefore, from encountering the tears of that sweet and loving woman.
There was an old servant in the family, with whom Myra from her childhood had been a sort of idol. Indeed, in all that large household there was not a dependant who did not reverence and love the young creature. ”

“ The servants were all out to receive their young mistress as she alighted from the carriage; even the hunting dogs came whining and yelping from their kennels, riotous with joy, as so many politicians the day after an election. Myra had smiles for all; but as her eyes fell upon the gentle mother, who had loved her so devotedly, the young girl broke away, her cheeks glowing, her eyes full of tears, and threw herself into the arms that were joyously opened to receive her. ”

“ This insult shall be atoned then and there.”
“O father!” was all poor Myra could say.
“If he is a gentleman, he shall answer this as a gentleman. If he is what I suppose, then I will chastise this insolence as I would a menial. When once we meet, one or the other will never return alive.”
Myra shuddered, her pale lips refused to utter the words that sprang to them, and she stood before the angry man with her hands clasped, but motionless as a statue. At length she gathered strength to utter a single sentence.
“Father, you will not challenge Mr. Whitney? It would be terrible; it would kill me.” ”

“ Myra, my child, my child!”
“Hush! mother; dear, dear mother; these tears, they make me weak as an infant. If you weep and cling to me thus, mother, my strength may fail; and do you not know that death may follow—death to your husband or to mine, for is he not my husband before God, do you think, sweet mother?”
But Mrs. D. only wept, and clung more fondly to her daughter. Myra withdrew herself gently from that warm clasp, and went away. On the morrow Mr. Whitney would be in Wilmington, and before then the young girl had much to accomplish—much to suffer. ”

“ When Myra entered the hall a murmur of admiration fell from the lips of the assembly. She had never looked so lovely. She seemed to stand in a halo of light; the opals on her dress reflected themselves in the diamonds, making a haze of pale fantastic colour, strange as it was beautiful. As she entered, the Prince was talking apart with the King; so she had a moment in which to observe him before he knew of her advent. He appeared to be a merry youth, with golden curls and blue eyes that were full of mirth and the love of fun. ”

“ She was no young heroine, but a noble, strong-minded woman, suffering keenly, but firm because she believed herself to be in the right. There was silence for a time, for the young girls respected the grief of their friend, then the eldest arose and leaning over Myra’s chair, began with gentle delicacy to smooth and arrange the light tresses that had been so completely disordered by the storm. ”

“ And Myra herself, that charming presence to infold his life—He would go walking through the golden October park, by little leaf-strewn paths under the wild and sun-soaked foliage, with many vistas every way of luring mystery, and over all the earth the rich opulent mother-bliss of harvest, and his heart would ache, ache within him, ache for his own harvests, ache like the sun for the earth, the man for the woman. ”

“ Years went by—life made its inevitable claims, and the great battle of the law went on, which Myra fought out in behalf of the parents who were dead and the children of her husband. In the course of this struggle, a brave old man, one who had served his country well and stood at the head of its armies, laid his heart and his well-earned fame at Myra’s feet, and she became his wife. ”

“ The moonlight was not more clear and untouched of baleful fire than Myra's sweet eyes looking up at him, and now he was walking the wet pavement of the great metropolis, with the clang and grind of cars all about him, on his way to meet a woman whose life was spent in simulating acts as destructive as Myra's had been serene and trustful. At the moment he saw his own life as a thread in some mysterious drama. ”

“ Myra always maintains that she never gave the Witch permission to take the moth; but, as she spoke, they both vanished, and Myra only saw the drawer with the big gap in its row of moths where the death's-head had been, and the Memory-Saver grinning ecstatically at her from the window-sill. Poor little fellow; he was so glad to get away from the Witch's pocket. ”

“ Myra gazed at him horrified. What could she do to revive him? She turned him over and fanned him with a dock-leaf, but he only gasped. Then she tried the effect of a little geography, but the result was disastrous; as fast as it entered the poor little imp, it oozed out again all over him, and he turned almost green with pain.
"Why are you tormenting my offspring?" said a sharp, angry voice at Myra's elbow. "Leave him alone, or give him to me; I'm hungry!"
It was Myra's turn to gasp now; the Black Cock had never spoken to her before, and she did not even know he could talk. ”

“ At last he spoke in a low and troubled voice, kissing the forehead of the child:
“Myra, do you love me?”
“Indeed, indeed I do,” said the little girl, laying her cheek to his. “Better almost than anybody else in the wide world, if you are only my godfather.”
“And whom—” here Mr. Clark’s voice faltered—“and whom can you love better, Myra?”
“Oh,” said the child, shaking her head with a pretty mysterious air, “there is somebody that I love so much, a pretty, beautiful lady, who comes to me so often, and so strangely, just like one of the fairies nurse tells me about. ”

“ Consort? I like that word, Myra," he responded. "I intend to be your consort for the rest of my life, and you shall be my queen and the empress of my heart."
"What a horrible threat!" exclaimed Myra. "And I am afraid, incidentally, it is camouflaged love-making. You must keep to the spirit as well as the letter of your promise, Don Carlos, if you wish to continue on our present footing."
"I am but human, sweet lady, and you are torturing me," said Don Carlos. "I am like unto a man dying of thirst, and you hold a cup of water to my lips, only to snatch it away when I try to drink. ”

“ It is useless to fight against destiny, Myra. I shall win you by hook or by crook, and make you all mine."
"That sounds like a challenge, Don Carlos," retorted Myra with forced lightness. "As you believe in gipsy forecasts, however, let me tell you that a gipsy woman 'read my hand' a few years ago, warned me to beware of a tall, dark man, and foretold that I should marry a tall, fair man. ”

“ We are a favored race, Myra. Descended from the old Egyptians, we inherit their mysterious learning. To a few among us, the queens and magi of our tribes, there has come down a knowledge of charms and medicine, and some of the secrets of astrology. Go, Myra ”

“ I would pledge my life for his honor; he is no impostor,” exclaimed Myra, as her father led the way to a little study that opened from the breakfast-room.
“As you would have done for the gentlemanly old man with the Bible, I dare say,” was the half-humorous, half-ironical rejoinder. “But answer my question, Myra: has this young man ever presumed to lift his eyes to you as an equal? has he ever uttered a word that might lead you to suppose that he thinks of you save as a stranger?”
“Indeed, papa, he never has—far, far from it. When other young men have overwhelmed me with flatteries ”

“ She remembered Myra's broken wrist, and heard again the woful cry from the other squatter girl as she told of the harm done her. If she could get out of the shanty, she could run from him, but that would leave the child to his mercy. She glanced toward the door. Whatever came to her, she must protect the babe. Lifting him from his bed, she sat down at the oven, and extended the blue legs toward the heat.
"He air so damn thin," she said in excuse, "that he allers yaps if he air cold.... Have ye seen Myry's kid lately?" ”

“ D., anxious to save her child from the embarrassment of an answer.
“He seems—who is he?” demanded the husband; his voice was stern and his look suspicious. “Myra, who is this man?”
“His name is Whitney,” replied the young girl, resuming something of her natural courage. “I have made no further inquiries; but he is no impostor, papa, I am very sure of that.”
Mr. D. arose from the table, evidently much annoyed. Myra’s heart beat quick. Why should she tremble, why should every nerve in her slight frame thrill so, if the stranger were no more to her than a hundred others had been? ”

“ Myra struggled to get away, and held out her arms to Zulima. How pale the poor mother was! Her eyes sparkled though at this proof of fondness in the child, and taking her from the woman, she kissed her forehead, and leading her a 36little way off, bent down with a hand upon those bright ringlets, and called down a blessing from God upon her daughter. Ah! these blessings, what holy things they are! The sunshine they pour forth, how certain it is to flow back to the source and fill it with brightness! ”

“ Myra laid her hands, gently, upon the roughness of his hair. Thus they stayed long, without speaking or moving.
And in those sacred minutes Myra learned the lesson which ten years of wedded life had failed to teach: that in the strongest man there is, sometimes, the eternal child—eager, masterful, dependent, full of needs; and that, in every woman’s love there must therefore be an element of the eternal mother—tender, understanding, patient; wise, yet self-surrendering; able to bear; ready to forgive; her strength made perfect in weakness.
At length Jim Airth lifted his head. ”

“ Myra responded, somewhat taken aback. "Here I should address a Knight or a Baronet as 'Sir Charles' without the slightest idea of being familiar, but I should not expect him to respond by addressing me as 'Myra.' Do I make myself plain?"
"Dear lady, you could never make yourself plain, you who are so beautiful, but you are explicit," answered Don Carlos with a radiant smile that made him look quite boyish. "I stand rebuked, Myra, but I am impenitent. Surely one is not committing a crime by calling the girl one loves by her Christian name? ”

“ Connie and Dick were at the door, announcing the bread and butter and tea, and Myra's handkerchief became a convenient mask for the moment. A less simple-hearted man than the old pioneer might have suspected the sincerity of such tears as may be wiped away at a word, leaving no trace behind them; but Elliott was too child-like to know aught of the fine art of dissimulation, and he took Myra's sudden return to cheerfulness as a tribute to his own astuteness in yielding a point at the critical moment. ”

“ Some odd instinct or intuition told her that history had repeated itself, and it came hardly as a surprise to find a half-sheet of notepaper tucked into her nightdress close to her heart. With fingers that trembled slightly, Myra unfolded the note and read:
"Give me your heart and love, my wife, and I will devote my life to you. If you have no love, show no mercy."
Myra read the words again and again, sorely puzzled to decide what exactly they meant, wondering, incidentally, why Don Carlos had not awakened her to whisper what he had to say instead of leaving a note on her breast. ”