The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1867-11-01

80 I'LL k1se you for your mother
Or your rsister-cousinAauntl p S.t
THE LADY OF LARosE.
81 - CONCLUDED.
Afew days after this conversation
Victor put on the best suit of clothes
Ghat his scanty wardrobe contained,
and proceeded to visit the Lady Of
Larose. He did not go at once to
the house, but wandered about the
grounds, delighted with the beauty
of the scene. A new surprise met
him at every turn. In one place, he
came to q little rivulet running
through the grassy turf, which was
gemmed with o thousand flowers.
Here he came across a grotto, whose
cool recesses wooed him to enter. In
another place, he saw fountain
sparkling in the sunlight. He reached
the Howery eminence, which was
adorned with @ pavilion, 30 delicately
constructed that it might have been
the work of fairy hands. Around
and about the spot, gorgeous phea-
SAINTS and stately peacocks walked
with pompous steps. At last, his
eyes rested upon the browning glory
of the scene-the superb villa Of
Larose. @t
Victor advanced with hesitat;ng
steps to the magnificent porch, where
he was met by o servant, who politely
invited him to walk into the house.
Entering the saloon, the poor young
man was amazed at the splendid dis
play. He began to repent OF his
presumption in daring to offer him
self as q suitor to the possessor Of so
much wealth; he dreaded to meet the
Lady of Larose, and q thousand
times he wished himself back in his
poor chamber.
While occupied with the thought,
the door opened, and Emile Lamont
entered. Victor arose and bowed as
she came forward, without raising his
eyes to her face. With q voice as
sweet as an angels when welcoming
souls to Elysian bliss, she addressed
him, and on the subject which is
always interesting to every man
himself.
''May I ask whether you are Mon
sieur st. Aubyn, the poet?"
ST do not know, Mademoiselle,
whether I deserve the name of poet,
but I-plead guilty of publishing o
volume OF verse year ago, which
brought but little fame and less
money"
"Your beautiful book should have
brought you BOTH"
i"Am TO understand that Made
moiselle Lamont has read my little
book?"
ct have read and admired it over
and over again, and if all the world
we're like me, your book would have
made you famous"
eff all the world were like you,
this world would be o Paradise, -
cried Victor, overjoyed at hearing
his book praised.
'tLook at me, Monsieur st. Aubyn;
! is Paradise composed of such?"
Victor raised his eyes to her face.
Those lips were indeed hideous, but
from them had come words of praise
and encouragement to cheer him
onward in his effort to reach Fame's
proud temple. Those cheeks were
thin and yellow, but perhaps they
had glowed with enthusiasm over his
poetry.
eff you will excuse me, Mademoi-
selle, will say that the houris are
not quite 30 plain"
s'Don't mince matters, Monsieur
st. Aubyn-my glass tells the truth,
and want you to do likewise"
''But, Mademoiselle, it is not GUS
tomary for gentlemen to speak 30
plainly to ladies about their personal
appearance.
Monsieur Victor st. Aubyn, I
want you to understand, once for all
that Emile Lamont is not like other
women. Therefore, do not hesitate
to say what you think of me-"
"Well, then, if you insist upon it.
can only say that you are bitter
ugly:"
Glitter ugly! I like that, indeed
That is quite refreshing! Bitter ugly
very goodr' cried Emile, with a
laugh sweet and musical as a silver
bell.
II am glad my plain language has
not offended you. It is certainly
venturing upon rather dangerous
ground to tell a woman that She is
ugly"
"You must remember that 7 am