The mountain Democrat., 1864-12-31
Translated from the French. ]
A Sisters Sacrifice.

"Ne Po'loIi oHe sue OF WHICH was lorm-
ed OF a wide screen lined with green silk,
which divided it from another portion OF
the room fitted up as jewelry store.
Marie and Jeanne were the daughters
Of Pierre GalOubet, q diamond jeweler,
renowned more for his taste and honesty
than for his fortune or his LUXURY. lie
was widower, with two daughters.
Marie and Jeanne were the very idols
OF his heart; Pierre had been soldier in
his youth, like most Frcnchmcn, and dur
ing his absence in Algiers his wife ha |
died. When he came back kind neigh
Dor took him to her cottage, and leading
him to cradle, showed bin two little in
fants sleeping side by side on the same
pillow. Pierre knew that in his absence
child had been born to him, but he had
had no communication from home for
more than year before his return. lie
therefore turned from the children to his
neighbor with look Of inquiry: Are
! they both my children y said he.
! why, no. replied Jacqninette. There's
a whole history about them, and Pierre,
as you are a clever man and have travel.
ed all over the world,you perhaps will be
able to settle point that has puzzled US
ever since the death of your wife
What is it:'
why, which Of these two is your
daughter =
Which ?-why, who is the othcr:'
oh! one day, about month after the
birth Of your child, when your wife OPEN
! cd the cottage door in the morning, she
found on the threshold one of these in.
iantS She knew which it was. but you
know or Nine. Pierre died suddenly and
! she never had time to tell me which of
the two was Yours
Again Pierre leaned over the babies.
and as they opened their eyes and smiled
on him, Pierre felt as if both were appeal
ing to his heart, both asking bis protcc.
ton.
From that hour Pierre Galoubct called
both children his, and Marie and Jeanne,
as he chriStened them (for they had no
name until his return,l became the idols
| Of his life.
When they were grown up, Marie and
Jeanne, who both alorcd their father,
helped hn in hi, business.
| Marie kept the books, and jeanne, who
had great talent for drawing, which had
been cultivated, made ;he drawings and
dcs cn> for the setting If the diamonds.
, They were now both cj.htccn; at least
knowing the agc Of our, Pierre tad al
/ ways pat them down a the same age
! their fathers strict honesty had prcycntcl
his making Il lortlnc, bat thanks to the
management II Jeanne, they were in easy
and C.H!p;tah,- .ircum stances
| Of ,are 4 cloud, however, had risen on
/ the household - full Of the sunshine o'
affection. Jeanne had grown pensivc, and
/ even locke! pale and thin, receiving her
fathers carcS>cs with indilfrrcncc ami
sitting foT hours, pencil in hand, without
! drawn = a stroke. Now on this evening
when the sisters were alone together,
Jeanne had pushed the paper from her
with disgust, and throwing down her pen
, il, had declared her dissatisfaction to Acl
sister.
Jeanne said Marie, looking up, you
! have never felt dissatisfaction before; but
you are unhappy. and you will always be
50 until YOU conlide what troubles yol t.
your best friends, your !ather and your
sister
Not to my father. dare not; but to
you, Marie. Oh dear sister, am Sc
wrctct cd y
Wrctched:-why, what has happen
cd:'
Marie said Jeanne, sitting down on Z
stool at her feet, 'liSten. but do not look
on me. Some months ago, you remember
| came home one Sunday morning from
church, where | had gone with our ser.
Want, with q Spraincd ankle.
Yes, | remember
We'll, had faiien-slippcd off the mar
bic steps of the church, and tainted from
the pain. WeU as lay there and the
crowd began to gather around me, gen.
t!cnan advanced, and putting aside those
who crowded oyer me, lifted me up in his
arms. Preceded by his servants, who
made way for him, he carried me to his
carriage, and placing me in it, asked. our
Scrvaut our address and drove me home.
lie was young, handsome, and in manner
! 50 fascinating as to have been able 10 dis
pense with being. either, Jeanne. The
| next time | went out met him. have
seen him often since he loves me; love
! him
We'll, if he is an honest man, true and
sincere in his love, why should you be un-
happy? You know your father will con-
sent
lie is the Due Octave de Blossac.'
The Due de Blossac, Jeanne ?
Yes
But not an honest man, or he would
never have dared to speak to you of love.
lie is ar honest man, for when he spoke
to me of love, he told me that he could
not marry me, but he offered to devote his
life to me; he offered never to marry
But he did not offer to marry your
you know that was impossible. So we
are parted, suppose forever, and that is
why am wretched.'
Jeanne said Marie, if be loved you
but no, | will not talk thus to you, you
are blinded by love-I will tell you to
think Of our father, whose only hope We
both are, whose only love we both are
Yes, my father, my own dear father,
but his love cannot be the only love Of my
life
At this moment the door opened, and
Pierre himself entered the room. His
daughters rose and both rushed up to him,
throwing their arms around him.
NV dearest father, you look sad; tell
me what is the matter with you
'Ah girls, girls, my own two children
for you are both my children, are you
notp'
Yes
tSomethinp has hapDened that | felt