Clarksville chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 186?-1872, 1869-03-27
LOVE IN THE CLOUDS.

through the northern departments
pretty fast; but / made rather
lengthy stay In Auvergne, among the
hills-in fact, stayed there all of one
summer.
arrived there i'm the early days of
spring, when the wild blooms of the
commons were fresh and new, and
the leaves of the grape were silky and
light green. The country was so
wildly beautiful, and the air so life
giving, that l could do no less than
to decide that would tarry for few
days. A mighty fine place that Au-
vergne Is for u young fellow of twen-
ty-one; for, truly, the skies are fair
and maids are fond. doubt If there
is n spot of equal size, unless 1t be Cir
cassia, where the same amount Of fe-
male loveliness may be found-thatis
to say, unless it has changed amaz-
ingly since l was there.
Well, not to be tedious, 1 came,
saw, and was conquered by little
maid whom 1 shall call, for convent
ence, Marie-her surname Is of no
consequence. She was the daughter
of a count, and beautiful as the crea-
ton of a dream. So beautiful was she,
that / loved her with all the soul
had, and my attachment grew strong-
er and stronger daily. / boated upon
the water with her, and rode among
the hills. / was like her shadow
like her second self; only we were of
that there was some secret sorrow
preying upon her-some blight of
the mind that deadened all her pleas
ures; and began to think that my suit
was vain. This idea almost took
away my wits; but to know the best
or the worst / resolved to bring mat
tiers to q crisis by offering myself to
her, body and soul. This I did; and
met with what feared-a refusal.
~ respect you," said she, in a
French phrase; "but, oh heavens!
can love you never. shall never love
a man again"
again % said I, wildly. "And
have you loved another?'
"Ah ~ she replied chow well 1
have loved as woman never loved be-
fore-as woman shall never love
againW -
Then l felt that was fast becoming
sort of second-fiddle hero in a
French romance; and 1t mattered
little to me when, where, or how she
was loved yet, to carry out the mat
ter to its logical sequence, inquired
as to the particulars.
"Must 1, alas must II cried Marie,
wringing her hands-"must / once
more tell that tale of horror? Oh,
Monsieur Raynor, / cannot, / cannot;
indeed, cannot relate it now. Come
to me to. morrow, when the sun goes
DOWN. am calmer then and will
once more, for the second and last
time, tell to mortal ears q story that
freezes my blood by the thoughts of
it. Adieu, Monsieur Raynor, till
| thenW
Iwent home, with my mind in the
condition of vessel that Is being
driven about by the angry gale. My
hopes were a hopeless wreck; and,
feeling that / had nothing now to at
tach me to existence, prayed--yes,
askpsd kprdayoffd%r of Myself, hrafsth that GM Marie-she s
whose angelic smile and gentle voice
has won me to prize my life as doubly
precious can never be mine? Oh,
perish the thought! She wishes to
dissemble for the time only to prove
my affection. Her sweet eyes can
never-have never-smiled for anoth-
er as they have smiled for me. Her
voice cannot have given its entranc-
| ing tones to another's ears. She does
but Jest with me for u true purpose
feel il to be so. / will go to her to-
morrow eve, and. have it from her
own lips.
The day came upon the earth the
next morning with all the rich and
varied glories that dawn ever brings
to France. The landscape was gorge
Gus with the commingled tints of the
carly sunbeams and the emerald of the
vegetation, and the groves were vocal
with the glad carols of the birds; but
there was no joy in it all for me. The
sun ascended to its tervid meridian,
and slowly-oh, so slowly passed
over westward in all its golden splen-
dor; declined, finally, and sank below
the horizon, like great fiery ball.
The day seemed to last for II hundred
years.
Just at the setting of the sun,
leaped over the wall of the fence be-
longing to Marie's father. She was
there, faithful as ever to her promise.
"Oh, speak, MarieW cried Wild
ly. "Speak quickly, and say you
did but trifie with my feelings yester-
day. Say that I may yet hope that
you will one day be mine.n
{" Alas % she replied, Monsieur
J Raynor, you know not how impossi-
) BILE IL Is that we can ever be more
! than friends. Ipromised to tell you
the reason of my refusal, sit beside
me, Monsieur, upon this rustic seat,
4 70 oh nj 81, nj
) tear open afresh tho wounds of my
own heart, and what shall, perchance,
cause a chord in your bosom TO res
pond to the touch of PHYS finger, for
me.n
sat down by her, and twas for the
last time. She then narrated To me a
story in, as nearly as | can reproduce
them, the following words:-
"rhree years ago | lived ut Troyes,
in Champagne, with my father.
was as joyous and happy maiden as
lived anywhere In France. My
friends said was as beautiful as a
picture OF the Virgin, and myself
, knew that sang the livelong day
like bird. My father, as you know
) is member of the governmentw which
has the care of the mechanical inter
csts of the Empire, and, consequent
, ly, has for many years cultivated the
society of such persons rs are acqaint.
ed with the parts and the practical
T workings of all kinds of machines
and, while we lived Mt Troyes, oul
visitors were chiefly men of that class
? whom my father would be closetcd
: with for hours, engaged in making
, drawings and models. One ofour Wis
: itors was n young gentleman, n mem
: Der of one of the decayed families o
the nobility. He, learned casually
came also upon business connected
{ with my fathers's office. He soor