Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1865-12-16

her and took my departure.
The next day was Sunday; but Mon
dav morning early brought Madeleines
looking very pretty in her Jour de fete
costume, to saw that if Monsieur was still
of the same mind, twas agreed that she
would come. So
took possession of my little house
n prison no longer-with good old Dame
Patience to attend to the drudgery, and
Madeleine for its presiding genius.
The first morning she gave me my cot
fee standing timidly by me.
"Ab! Madeleine" L said looking up
n her and laughing, "what are you do
ing? Sit down there opposite me, my
child, and We will wait on each other, p"
and she obeyed with the color deepen
ing on her cheek.
After being away greater part of the
cold day; how pleasant to find light and
warmth, and Madeleine's bright face on
my return. The cheerful little dining
room, with the cloth laid for two; the
plants which she so carefully tended
that they lived through the winter; the
books, the music, the pictures. But
she was the living picture, the breath
ing music; ALL would have been dead
and cold without her. After dinner i
taught her to read more correctly (sae
read quite well already; to write, and
corrected her provincial pronunciation
of French, while she In return impaired
To me fiuency in the use of her native
patois.
81 the days went on, anu by the time
three months had got oyer our heads, at
home or abroad, whatever L might be
dning,ir was all Madeleine to me. 1t
was her bright, appreeiative smile,
ar the sweet sadness that at awOrd
would cloud her brow. 1t was her
eyes full of melancholy, full of mirtb, full
of n nameless tenderness was all
Madeleine.
One night 1 was busy writing. She
was sitting on low ottoman almost at
my feet, reading quietly. L looked up
casually, and her attitude caught my
attention. The book rested on the floor.
her hand still lightly clasping it, the
other, the elbow on her knee, was twIned
amid her dark hair, and her eyes
were very dreamy. / never could tell
how it happened-it was sudden-it was
irresistible-I fOund myself at her feel
with my arms about her.
She did not repulse me rudely. She
drew away gently, and told me with
tears in her eyes rhat her good confess
or had Taught her that was right; thai
she was an humble girl, and / gentle
man, and that she wOuld not sin-no
not even for me. i answered that
would not have her stu, that loved hel
more for what she said; that / should
always love her, but that it shOuld he a
holly as il We're her brother. TheI
rising with the strength of this gooG re
solve. drew her to my teet, pressed
my lips gently on her fair brow, and
sent her away to her innocent slumber
Alas for human weaknessl She was
pure and true, If ever woman was; ]
was as disinterested aud loyal III 1T is
possible for "A man to be, and yet in less
than "a month she had forgotten hel
strength, and my noble purposes.
We were deliriously happy, it is true;
but 1T was IN fact the happiness of deli
rum. haunted by vague sense of pain
and wrong. L loved her tn degree of
which | had never believed myself ca
pable / could not conceive of existence
apart from her, and vet / could not
beauty and grace, and the germ of every
accomplishment and virtne; but could
not take home this humble bride, this
nile de STEM" and this false, mean pride
stood gigantic wall between us.
Spring and summer came and passed.
For a long time-months- Madeleine
had not visited her home. She always
found some excuse for this omission;
but / OWNED the true cause-she shrunk
from the sight of her father-of the old
priest who had baptized her babe-o
village companions. She feared that
lishonOr would he discovered. She was
changed, too; never reprOachful, but
always pale, always grave; sometimes
sitting 10y my side for hours in continu-
Gus silence.
At last one bright, early morning a
boy from the village brought a message
from her home Her sister was very ill.
and her father desired her presence i'm
mediately. / wOuld fain have taken heI
in the caleche, but she declined. She
was strong, she said, could walk she
had so little exercise of late that she
arm in arm, and the way seemed short
eICuSu III Tile eAIu1SiIetN Detiltllll
October day-alT the landscape ideal
lied by the golden Indian simmer haze.
In sight of her home she stopped, NOV
ed by / know not what thought, and
said:
mo further, Henri, / will go alone. +"
"When shall 1 come for you, Made
leine? How long are you going to leave
me alone?"
Il will let yOu know when L can come
back" and with this indefinite consola-
ton L had needs content myself, and
go my way.
An! the long days, the weary hours
that succeeded. Light, and perfume.
and jOy-ny very sonl seemed To have
gone away with Madeleine. Tell, by
degrees. into condition of depression
that was uncomfortable, and at the ex-
piration of the fourth day, received no
word from her, started for her home
with the determination of bringing her
back at any cost. 1 found the family
all together. The old man in the cor
ner, Madeleine kneeling by her sister,
little bed. The child was better, and
both she and the father, evidently quite
unsuspicious, very glad to see me. As
to Madeleine, she no longer appeared to
me to belong to them, so much had this
year, passed in ease and refinement, de-
veloped her natural elegance. =
L fold har that II cnul1 not ratr1ru