inistry. A report that, in twelve months, received its confirmation in
the well established fact that Thurston Willcoxen was a candidate for
holy orders.

And in the meantime the young guardian did not neglect his youthful
charge, but in strict interpretation of his assumed duties of
guardianship, he had taken the education of the girl and boy under his
own personal charge.

"Many hard-working ministers of the Gospel have received pupils to
educate for hire. Why may not I, with more time at my command, reserve
the privilege of educating my own adopted son and daughter," he said,
and acting upon that thought, had fitted up a little school-room
adjoining his library, where, in the presence of Mrs. Morris, Miriam and
Paul pursued their studies, Mrs. Morris hearing such recitations as lay
within her province, and Mr. Willcoxen attending to the classical and
mathematical branches. Thus passed many months, and every month the
hearts of the children were knitted closer to each other and to their
guardian.

And Thurston Willcoxen "grew in favor, with God and man." His name
became the synonym for integrity, probity and philanthropy. He built a
church and a free-school, and supported both at his own expense. In the
third year after entering upon his inheritance, he was received into
holy orders; and two years after, he was elected pastor of his native
parish. Thus time went by, and brought at length the next eventful epoch
of our domestic history--that upon which Miriam completed her sixteenth
year.

CHAPTER XXX.

MIRIAM.

Six years had passed away. Thurston Willcoxen was the most beloved and
honored man, as well as the most distinguished clergyman of his day and
state. His church was always crowded, except when he changed with some
brother minister, whose pulpit was within reach--in which case, a great
portion of his congregation followed him. Many flattering "calls" had
the gifted and eloquent country parson received to metropolitan
parishes; but he remained the faithful shepherd of his own flock as long
as they would hear his voice.

As Miriam grew into womanhood prudence kept her silent on the subject of
her strange vow. She, however, preserved in her memory the slight
indexes that she already had in possession--namely, beginning with
Marian's return after her visit to Washington--her changed manner, her
fits of reverie, her melancholy when she returned empty-handed from the
post-office, her joy when she rec