The Plymouth weekly Democrat. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1860-1869, 1869-02-04

the chlldS bright lace.
"Yes, you are like him." sne said alb
| stractedly, and she remained thus, with
the watering pot in her hand, like one in
| dream.
"And they told him about you, you
know" pursued Louise, land papa
groaned, and said you would never do.
And Uncle Joseph laughed, and said you
| would never do; and Henri, you know,
said, Why not? Women do very well in
business when they have brains and not
heart"
Charlotte was silent; if it were not that
she changed color little, she looked as If
she had not heard the child
"And Henri is going to Uncle Joseph's
tonight" continued the little thing" and
| as he will not be back till Friday, mamma
will ask you to come and spend to-mor
rows holiday with us. They asked Henri
| if he would mind seeing you-he said no;
| but ii would be awkward for whole
day."
Still Charlotte was silent.
How hot it is under the skylight T. she
said, atlast; "come out with me, Louise"
| and, passing through one ofthc out houses,
they came out on the brink of the river
behind it. Charlotte had wooden bench
| placed there, and of an evening, when the
shop was shut, she liked TO come and sit
| here and breathe little fresh air. 1t was
| also a favorite haunt of Monsieur Lenoir's,
who was great angler, and who devoted
! to his favorite pursuit everything like
spare time. They found him there, stand
ing on a stone, stiff, straight, and still, like
an old heron watching for his prey.
| Charlotte sat down on the bench without
speaking to him, aud Louise nestled
i r,ct H1r Tl,n o1r-,
and still. The stream was silyery and
gray; above the willows and aspens on
the opposite bank rose pale crescent
moon; the lowing of distant cattle came
from remote pastures, and fromthe neigh
boring gardens the gay laughter of the
Roussels Presently a boat shot forth,
and turned on the stream. Charlotte saw
| that Henri, strange young man, and
Marie, the elder sister of Louise, were in
it. Marie was laughing very gayly, and
| half in mirth, half in real fear, she was
clinging to her brother.
"Take care" he said, gently; "take
care" And even as he spoke he saw Char
lotte sitting on the bench, with Louise by
her side He was bare-headed, but he rose
and bowed verv gravely, then sitting down
again he rowed on. The voices lessened,
then died away, the boat vanished in a
bend of the river, everything was calm
and silent, and the stars came out one by
one in the deepening blue of the sky, and
| Charlotte Morel felt very sad and very
lonely But as she rose and went in with
Louise, she thought, would do it over
again"
She took the child to her own house.
She found Monsieur Roussel in the garden.
He asked her to sit down; and not having
| oe Hanr, oho nj, a1
| whilst her uncle resumed his digging.
"And how are you getting on?" he said,
after awhile, resting on his spade to sd-
dress her.
81 am getting on well, uncle, thank
you"
Monsieur Roussel groaned, and shook
his head.
"Gct married." he said "get married,
Charlotte"
81 am in no hurry, uncle"
"Well, you did wonderfully well not to
take Henri, at least" he said ruefully.
"What do you think he came for?''
Charlotte did not answer.
"Why, to ask me for seven thousand
five hundred francs. Neither more nor
less. What for?' said |. But that he
could not tell he replied. Seven thou
sand five hundred francsI" exclaimed
Monsieur Roussel, In pious horror. "That
boy will not end well, Charlotte"
Perhaps Charlotte had found to her own
cost that ones friends are liberal of such
prophecies, for she did not look so horri
| fed az Monsieur Roussel evidently ex-
pected
You do not mean to say you think
that natural?" he exclaimed, looking 10.
, jured.
"I think nothing about it, uncle. Where
is aunt?"
!, too, was full Of the seven thousand five
!. hundred francs.
"You know what Henri came for:" she
said, plaintively.
Yes; uncle has told me. What fin;
EVENING"
"Will you come and spend tomorrow
: with us? Henri will not be at home,
!: continued Madame Roussel.
~ am not afraid of Henri" ratheI
! ! proudly replied Charlotte; but 1 shall
be glad to spend tomorrow with you,
: she added, with little sigh, holiday
. . seem so lonely"
The Verrieres fashion of spending holi
day is dull one.
A good dinner, walk in the garden
/ and round game of cards in the evening
S was all the entertainment that Madam
!. Roussel thought needful for her family
: A thunderstorm interfered with one par
I OF the programme; the garden was mac
cessible. The dinner and the round gam
;. remained. Very long and wearisom
s seemed the dinner to Charlotte, who di
not care for good cheer; and the evenin
: was not much better. She soon lost a
s her counters and was henceforth out c
II the game. Whilst the others played or
g she leaned back in her chair, listening {
+ the wind, which was rising, and to tn
{ rain that now beat wildly against the win
e dow-pancs Monsieur Roussel was peer
q ing at the cards through his gold specta
+ cles; Marie showed her hand to her motf
u er, who nodded and smiled; and littl
e Louise, leaning heavily against Charlotte
r was falling asleep, Mademoselle More
,, looked at them little wistfully. There
d pleasure and also pain in beholding
II family circle when we are ourselve
8 alone
q "If they had not asked me to joi
them" thought Charlotte, 81 must hay
q sat alone in my room this evening; an,
J. because they asked me, he left the hou'
I, just as he left Verrieres on my accoul
"a four years ago. They do not seem to mi
G. him much; and yet they surely care mol
u about him than they care about mes"
81 A violent knocking at the front dot
er reused her from her revery. She locke
te up with start and found the notary. h
a. a, wife and daughter exchanging alarmt
I'd glances