"They air fer Miss Miriam Standish, who was queen o' beauty at the San Lorenzy carnival. Miss Standish is the granddaughter of Doctor Standish. Ye've heard o' him--of course?" She glanced keenly at Ajax, who rose to the occasion with an alacrity that I trust the recording angel appreciated. "Of course," he said hastily. "Doctor Standish is a man of mark; as a physician, he----" "He ain't a physician," said Gloriana. "He's a doctor o' divinity--a learned, godly man." "And his granddaughter is about to marry----" "Mr. Hubert Leadbetter. I should say _Professor_ Leadbetter, who keeps the biggest drug-store in town." We had bought drugs from the Professor, and were happily able to testify to his personal charms. Gloriana beamed. "Ther ain't a finer young man in the land, Mr. Ajax: he's jest as good as his own sarsaparilla." "You are going to attend the wedding?" said I, thinking of the wonderful bonnet. "If you please," said Gloriana. "I jest couldn't stay away. Why, I've made things fer Miriam Standish ever since she was born. That is how I learned ter sew as few women kin sew." Ajax touched one of the garments lightly, as became a bachelor. "This work will bring you many shekels, Gloriana. I had no idea you were such a needlewoman." "What!" she cried, her face crimson. "Do you think I'd take money from Miriam Standish? Why----" She stopped short in confusion, and covered her poor face with trembling hands. "I beg your pardon," said Ajax gravely, "I wouldn't hurt your feelings, Gloriana, for the world." She looked up, irresolutely. "I reckon I've said too much or too little," she said slowly. "Ye're both gen'lemen, an' ye've bin awful kind ter me. I kin trust ye with my secret, an' I'm goin' ter do it. The Standishes, are New England folk--high-toned an' mighty particler. It's as easy fer them ter be virtuous as ter eat punkin pie fer breakfast. I come from Wisconsin, where we think more of our bodies than our souls; an' 'twas in Wisconsin that I first met Dr. Standish. He had a call to the town, wher I lived with--with my sister. She, my sister, was a real pretty girl then, but of a prettiness that soon fades. An' she hired out as cook ter the Doctor. He was a good man, an' a kind one, but she paid back his kindness by runnin' off with his only son." "Surely," said Ajax gently, "the son was also to blame?" "No, sir, my sister was ter blame, an' she knew it. We was common folk, Mr. Ajax, what they would call in the South--white trash, an' the Standishes was real quality. My sister knew that, an' refused to marry the young man, tho' he asked her on his bended knees. Then he died, an'--an' my sister died, an' nothin' was left but the sorrow an' the shame, an'--Miriam." The name fell softly on a silence that we respected. Presently she continued--