Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1867-07-12


servant Silently took his cloak and hat, with
special Difference, Philip thought; out
was he not now one of the family?
an Dorine," said the servant slowly, : is
unable to see Monsieur at present. lie
wishes Monsieur to be shown up 10 the
salon"
Us Mademoiselle-"
eyes, Monsieur"
"Alone?"
"AIone. Monsieur" repeated the man,
looking curiously at Philip, who could
scarcely repress an exclamation OF pleas
ure.
It was the first time that such privilege
had been accorded him. His interviews
with Julie had always taken place in pres
ence of M. Dorine,s orysorne member OF the
household. A well-bred Partisan girl has
| but formal acquaintance with her lover
Philip did not linger ON the staircase;
| his heart sang in his bosom as he flew up
| the steps two at time. All! this, vine OF
| air.which. one drinks at twenty, and seldom
after |. i He fastened through the so1tly
| lighted hall, in which. he detected the laint
| Scent of her favorite flowers, ana sIeal'Hiiy
/ opened the door of the s0ton. 1900 NJ
The room was darkened.. Ondernea1n
| the chandelier. stood slim black casNeC oI
l trGCtIeS n UgubcQ VI
/ some white flowers were on a taDle' i les'.
| by. Julie Dorine was dead!'.
| When M. Dorine heard the indescripaple
| crv that rang through the silent mouse. ne
hurried from the library, and found Fhlnp
standing like al ghost in the middle Of the
+ n was not until long afterwards that
! Wantwortb learned the details OF the ca
| lanitv that had ibefallen7 him. : On the
previous night, Mademo1selfe DoEine had
retired to her room in seemingly perfect
health She dismissed her maid with a
request to .ibe. iawakeneda early the next
morning. At the appointed hour the girl
entered the chamber. Mademoisefle BORNE
was sitting in an arm chair, apparently
asleep. The candle had burntdown to the
socket; book lay half open the carpet at
her feet, The girl started when she saw
that the bed had not been occupied and
that her mistress still. wore ain evening
dress She rushed to Mademoiselie Dos
rines side! 1t was not slumber. IT was
death.ts9y ag8Iiiy sidj ni sgUod 80 "A. ,
!, Two messages were at once despatched
TO Philip, one to the station at G-, the
other to- his hotel. The first missed him on
the road, the second he had neglected to
open ION hisIarrival at NJ DOrine's house
GIC pOl fdlb, uulCAs 0uC oopHOolnlOI
Wentworth had been advised of Mademoi-
selle Dorine' death, broke the intelligence
with awkward cruelty, by showing him
directly to the salon. e s99ii9 9da
Mademoiselle Dorine's wealth, her beau
ty, the suddenness of her death, and the
romance that had in some way attached
itself to her love for the young American,
drew crowds to witness the funeral cere-
monies which took place at the Church in
the Rue d'Aguesseau. The body was laid
to be laid in M. Dorine's tomb in the GENE
terry of Montmartre.
This tomb requires few words of de-
scription. First there was a grating of
fligraned IRON; through this you looked
into small vestIbule or hall, at the end Of
which was massive door of oak opening
upon a short flight of stone steps, descend
ing into the tomb. The vault was fifteen
or twenty feet square, ingeniously ventilat-
ed from the ceiling, but unlighted. 1t con-
tanned two sarcophagi the first held the
remains of Madame Dorine, long since
dead the other was new, and bore on one
the lettersJ d., in monogram, interviewer
with fleurs-de-lis. n a
The funeral train stopped at the gate of
the small garden that enclosed the place
of burial, only the immediate relatives
following the bearers into the tomb. A
slender wax candle, such as is used in
Catholic churches, burnt at the foot of the
uncovered sarcophagus, casting a dim glow
over the centre of the apartment, and
deepening the shadows which seemed to
huddle together in the corners. By this
Pickering light the coffin was placed in its
granite shell, the heavy slab laid over, it
reverently, and the oaken door revolved on
its rusty hinges, shutting out the uncertain
ray Of sunshine that had yentured to peep
in on the darkness. - .iaqise 51}ao5'lHNt
N M. Dorlne, mhffled in his cloak, threw
himself on the back seat of the carriage,
too distracted in his grief to observe that
he was the only occupant of the vehicle
There was sound of wheels grating on
the graveled avenue, and then all was silent
in the cemetery of Montmartre. AT the
main entrance the carriages parted COM
pany, dashing off into various streets at
pace that seemed to express sense of re-
lief. % The band plays dead march gong
to the grave, but Fra DaaoQZo in coming
from it.. i,Ll ,fH A tl1lG 80 ~
l 1t is not with the retreating carriages
that our interest lies. Nor yet wholly with
the dead in her mysterious dream but
with Philip Wentworth. d94.or.t
The rattle of wheels had died out of the
air when Philip opened his eyes, bewIld-
cred, likeoa man abruptly reused from
slumber. He raised himself on one arm
and stared into the surrounding blackness.
Where was he? In a second the truth
flashed upon him. He had been left In the
tomb While kneeling on the farther side
of the stone box, perhaps he had tainted,
and in the last solemn rites his absence had
been unnoticed. IL s'e't'
His first emotion was one CT natural ter-f
ror. But this passed as quickly as 1t came.
Life had ceased to be so very precious TO
him; and if it were his fate to die atJ u1es
side, was not that the fulfillment OF the de-
sireEwhich be had expressed to hlmself. q
hundred times that morning? What d1d
it matter, few wears sooner or later? he
must lay down the burden at last why not
then? A pang of selfreproach followed
thethought aCouldfhe so lightly throw
aside the lovethat had bent over his era
die? The sacred name of mother rose an
voluntarilYgtol hisl lips. Was. it not COW
ardly to yield up without struggle tne
life he should guard former sake was u
not his duty to the living and the dead 10
face the difficulties Of his position, and
overcome them if it were within human
power? ~.
With an organization as delicate as
woman's, he had that spirit which, now
ever sluggish in repose, can leap WIN
kind of exuitation to measure Its strength
with disaster The vague fear OF the su-
pernatural, that would affect most men IN
a similar situation, found no room ID ms
heart. He was simply shut in chamber
from which If was necessary to obtain re-