New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1852-09-09

night he must endure all the agonies of sus-
pense!' and then she looked earnestly at her
companions face, and wondered if, when hers,
like it, was pale and faded, her heart should also
be as cold. strange sad feeling crept over
her, and she continued quite silent during the
remainder of the drive. Her thoughts were still
busy in the formation Of another plan for the
discovery Of Lucille, when upon her arrival at
home, she was informed that NJ. Lagnier desired
anxiously to see her, having something to COM
municate
Mademoiselle, / have not been idle" he
exclaimed, Immediately upon entering the apart
ment. ssHere is Lucilles address, and have
seen her mother. Poor things!" he added,
:" they are indeed in want. Their room is on
the sixth floor, and one miserable bed and bro
ken chair are all the furniture. For ornament,
there was a rose-tr in fower-pot upon the
window seat; it was withered, like its young
mistress!'
ssThey are not Parisians'" inquired Ade-
laide.
&c No, no, Mademoiselle. From what the
mother said, picked up quite little romance
concerning them. The husband died two years
ago, leaving them pretty little farm and a
comfortable little home in Normandie Lucille
was very beautiful All the neighbors said SO,
and Mrs. belmont was proud of her child. She
could not bear her to become peasants wife.
and brought her here hoping that her beauty
might secure her better fate The young girl
had learned q trade, and with the assistance Of
that, and the money they had obtained upon
| selling the farm, they contrived to manage very
| we'll during the first year. Lucille made no
complaint, and her mother thought she was
happy: Partisan paid her attention, and
asked her to become his wife. She refused /; but
| as he appeared rich, the mother would not hear
of declining the offer. She encouraged him to
visit them as much as possible, and hoped at
length to overcome Lucille's dislike to the mar
riage. One evening, however, as they were all
seated together. a young man entered the room
He had been an old lover of Lucille's--a neigh
! boris son, and an early playmate. She sprang
forward eagerly to meet him, and the rich pre-
tender left the place in fit of jealous anger,
and they have net seen him since. Then troubles
came, one following another, until at last they
fell into the state Of destitution in which found
them. Andre Bernard, who had quarreled with
his parents in order to follow them, could find
no work, and every SOU that Lucille gained was
given to him, to save him, as she said, from ruin
or from sin. Last week she sold her hair, to
enable him to return home. She had made him
promise that he would do so, and tonight he is
to leave Paris
cit is he, then, whom we saw arrested ex-
claimed Adelaide; s' and he will not be able to
return home. Oh, let US go to Lucille at once! !!
l Du, pidys COmO Will Mhudmc VI I1cTdu-
ville!' and turning to her friend, she pleaded
SO earnestly, and the large tears stood so inn
ploringly in her eyes. that it was impossible to
resist. Madame d'Heranville refastened her
cloak, and soon afterwards, with Adelaide and
NJ. Lagnier, found herself ascending the steep
and dilapidated staircase of the house inhabited
by the Delmonts. Adelaide seated herself upon
the highest step to await the arrival Of her
friend, whose agility in mounting was not quite
equal to her own. As she did so, a loud and
angry voice was heard proceeding from the
apartment to which this staircase led It was
followed by a sound as of young girl weeping,
and then few low, half broken sentences were
y uttered in voice of heart-broken distress.
Mother, dear MOTHER were the Yords, &c do
not torture me. | am so ill-so wretched, ]
wish were dead.''
4 "Ill wretched, ungrateful girl!'' was the
reply. ''And whose fault is it that you are so
Not mine. Blame yourself, if you will, and
him, your darling Andre. What will he do,
now that you have no more to give-nothing
even that you can sell, to supply him with the
means of gratifying his extrayagnncess You
will soon see how sincere he is in his affection
l and how grateful he feels for all the sacrifices
that you have made-sacrifces, Lucille, tina
i you would not have made for me.''
ssMother," murmured the poor girl in a ton,
of heart broken reproach, 81 have given m,
beauty for him. but have given my life fol
$ you" ADELAIDE listened no more. Shocked be
. you'd measure at the misery expressed in thu
low, earnest voice of Lucille, she knocked at the
door of the apartment, and scarcely waiting fo1
. permission, lifted the latch and entered hur-
riedly
Lucille was seated at window working, or
seeming at least to do SO, for her head was bent
over wreath of artificial flowers, through
which her emacnted fingers passed with quick
! convulsive motion. 1t needed not, however, a
very nice observation to discover that the work
progressed but slowly. The very anxiety with
. which she e1erted herself, seemed to impede hel
movements, and the tears which fell from tim,
| to time upon the leaves obscured her sight, an(
D often completely arrested her hand She die
| not raise her head as Adelaide entered toe
3 deeply engrossed in her own sadness, she had
S not heard the opening of the door, or her moth.
| er's exclamation of surprise, and Madamoi
r selle de Varenne was at her side before she wa.
in the least conscious Of her presence. Adelaide
0 touched her gently on the arm.
"What is the matter, Lucille!" she added
'' Tell me: will do all can to help you" Al
1 these words the mother interposed, and sale
f softly: 81 am sure, madame, you are very kline
t to speak to her. am afraid you will find her
9 an ungrateful girl ; if you had heard her words
: to me just now-to me, her own mother -
. 81 did hear them,' returned Adelaide. 81 Sh
said she had given her life for you. What di
= she mean' What did you mean, Lucilles" sh
$ asked, gently addressing the young girl, who's
: face was buried in her hands. -
n "Forgive me mother; l was wrong" mur
mured Lucille; &C but scarcely know what
k say sometimes, NIademoiselle," she continue
: earnestly, 81 am not ungrateful; but if 20
II knew how all my heart was bound to home, an
j. how miserable am here, you would pity an
It forgive me, if am often angry and impatient.
N You were never miserable till he came,'' II
is torted the mother; :" and now that he is goins
1t you will be so no more. 1t will be happy da
10 for both of us when he leaves Paris" At thi
'. moment heavy steps were heard ascending th
stairs; then voices raised as if in anger. Lucill
4 started up; in an instant her pale cheek wa
suffused with the deepest crimson, her ey
I" flashed, and her whole frame trembled violently
ID Her mother grasped her by the hand, but sh
ID freed herself with sudden effort. and dartin
d past Madame dsHeranvlle and the hair dresser
Ie who had entered some time before, she ran ou
k upon the landing. Adelaide followed, and a
II once perceived the cause of her emotion. Andr
is was rapidly ascending the stairs, his counter
e ance pale, and his whole demeanor indicatin
v the agitation Of his feelings. He was closel
.; followed by the police officer, whose voice. as
,e once more grasped his prisoner, appalled, I'll
y terrified Lucille. &c You have given US shar
v rum he exclaimed, Z" and once thought yc
d had got off You should not have left 70,
,r hiding place till dark, young gentleman An
" needless of the frantic and agonized gestures
l. the unhappy youth he drew him angrily ava