The weekly pioneer and Democrat. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. Territory) 1855-1865, 1863-11-06

that in Paris, without fortune, no woman
ever marries. III could be always with
you, my darlings! but often, through the
long nights, think of the solitary years
before you when shall be gone, and your
lives will be one weary monotony of toll
| and struggle
"Yet," said Suzanne, eve are taught
each day to have contempt for riches.
Neither mother nor sister answered,
and nothing was heard but the cracking
| embers and the noise Of the three active
needles
Meantime, where was Monsieur Ducan-
telle? In one of the most luxurious and
sumptuons apartments of the Rue de Bre
da is woman of about twenty-five. She
is singularly beautiful: her eyes are blue;
| her complexion of most delicate, pinky
white; but instead of her hair which
| would seem to harmonic with her tea
lures, heavy braids of jet black hair are
parted on her fair forehead, whilst the
arch of the eyebrow is pencilled in the
darkest tint The peculiarly of her beauty
had given Madelon Tropez great celebrity.
What was her origin no one knew, but
now she was one of the most fashionable,
the most eXtravagant ofthe lOrettes of Pa
ris. Honest women gazed at her elegance
and splendor in the public places she fire.
quented; some with bitter anger, some
perhaps thinking of the ungrattul toll of
their lives with envy. Very little cared
Madelon for the impression she produced
on women of the world ,--they were. ell
tirely out of her sphere; but she did care
for exciting the envy OF her own class
probably that was the greatest pleasure
she derived from her extravaganza. At
this moment she is putting forth all her
Establishment, beside dull heavy man
of some fifty years, gazing up at her with
earnestness and alteration.
eyes, my dear Cr9sus, You must in
dulge me in this; you must e We me that
dear little villa at Passy. What do you
think !? Helene says she cannot come here
any more because it smells OF onions -
from some of my neighbors, Of course. IN
deed. cannot live any longer in furnished
lodgings"
"But | am not rich enough, my da'-
ling"
"Nonsense! You only want to be flat
tered. All Paris knows you are making
millions. However, You know l do not
care for your riches,- care for you; and
[ should not like to die,--and really the
atmosphere of these close streets is killing
me. | have even sent for the doctor;
last night | coughed all night. Here is
DR.. Max Sabatier; now hear what he has
to say"
But the first word the doctor spoke
was to the gentleman, who rose at his
approach.
"Ah! Ducantelle, was it you sent for
me? My dear fellow, we cannot minister
to heart morally diseased"
"What do you mean ?"
81 mean that | cannot give you any
prescription to send you back to your de-
voted wife and your two lovely, innocent
daughters. l am sure your friend here,
Mile Madelon Tropez, must Re charmed
to hear of your domestic happiness"
But Mile Madelon had seized the OPP
portunity to go off into strong Mysteries,
throwing herself into the most graceful
attitudes, and murmuring appeals of love
and pi y to her ancient and agitated ad-
mirer
DR.. Max Sabatier looked calmly on till
Ducantelie, in an agony of fear, came over
to him.
"What is to be done ?" said he
"Give her the last thing she asked you
for, and You refused, whatever it may
COST
With this the doctor took up his hat and
disappeared. Madelon Tropez, that after
noon, pale and interesting, enveloped in
white cashmere shawl, rode cut in her
carriage, with Ducantelle beside her, and
secured the charming little villa at Passy.
This while Nine Ducantelle and her
daughters were suffering from cold and all
the hundred other privations OF poverty.
But Mons. Ducantelle had no remorse; he
had been inoculated with the gold fever,
which petrities all emotion and feeling
which lives in an atmosphere of its own,-
which destroys all memories of the past.
NJ Ducantelle had been all his life head
clerk in the office of broker, and for years
had plodded on contentedly with his sal
airy of five thousand francs. He had
grown morose and logged under the con-
victon that it was impossible for him in
any way to provide for his daughters be-
yond their yearly expenses. He esteemed
his wife, he loved his children, and his bad
temper was assumed to hide the deeper
feelings of dread and sorrow that struggled
in his heart. All at once change seemed
to dawn. A new clerk came into the Of
fice,-a man of great ability, quick, reck-
less, daring, determined from the outset
not to vegetate. He had opportunities, or
he made them, of knowing the right time
to speculate. He had but few thou
sands; with these he tried his fortune,
tripled his capital, and, in the height of his
delight, confided his luck to Ducantelle.
Ducantelle, who had never been dazzled
by the millions of his employer which
made him millions, was perfectly fascin-
ated by the fortune achieved with SO little