The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1870-06-16

WV SAAoe AoA Ae4p3 III Iue IuSu VI VII
blowing here and there, in the We,
moodsof her heart, changing from OF
emotion to another. Even the trer
bling shadow Of the poplar.tree upe
the turf seemed to whisper peace to b,
and tranquility; and so by degree
her sad excitement abated. She dj
> not reproach herself; she did not kno
. now whether she had been most
blame for that which she should regr
all her life; but when she reache
home, she telt some how that the wor
was over. Little Josette ran up to he
and pulled her by the hand into ii
everyday world again, telling her I
come and see the GAZETTE she and he
mother had cooked for dinner; PAR
rubbed his head against his mistress
black gown; MadaueI Marteau cam
smiling to to the door to. greet he,
Refine, coming and going about be
business with pale face and sa
heart, all that day kept telling hersel
that it was too late to regret, but no
too late to love still, and then she. de
termined to write to Dick once again
and this time the letter was sent. 1
was addressed to Catharine, though i
was intended for Dick. Only a fe1
words, in the French.woman's quaint
stiff handwriting II have heard new.
ofyou," she wrote. "With my whole
heart pray heaven for your happiness
that heart which is full of love 70,
you, of hope for the future, and Of faith
in your tender friendship. You will
come here some day-will you not !
both OF you, and give me the great.
est happiness which I can hope for on
earth-the happiness Of seeing you hap
py|
And then Reipe, holding Josette
by the hand, went and slipped the
letter herself into the box in the village
wall, where in lay until old Pierre, the
postman, with his clumsy key and his
old worn pouch, carried it away to Bay
eux, across the plain.
Dick was sitting with Catharine when
this letter was put into her hand. She
flushed up, poor little widow, and be-
gan to tremble when she read it, and
with sudden movement half held it
out to Butler, and then changed her
mind aud took it back once more :; and
SO sat, without speaking for a minute,
with her dark eyes fixed gravely upon
his face. She looked like a child try-
ing to remember some half:forgotten
lesson, and Dick wondered what words
she was trying to fashion. 1t was a
long, low, old fashioned room in which
they were sittiug-the drawing.room Of
a house on tFe terrace at Richmond.
with three deep windows looking out
upon the loveliest haze and distance
upon the river-wandering at its own
sweet will-upon the showers of au-
tumnalgold sparkling benenth!the mists
that were spreading to the silver hills.
Toto and Totty were in one of the win.
dows, whispering and exploding into
sudden shrieks Of laughter at one an
others witticisms. Rosy was curled
up over a novel on the floor; and Cath
ariue, sitting in her little bowery cor
ner, with some work and some flowers
on her table, was looking prettier and
more gentle than ever in her black
dress, with her plaintive childish face
crowned with the sad dignity Of a wid-
dow's cap. So she sat talking to the
melancholy and ill-bumored young man
in the armchair beside her. "You
must find me great bore," Dick was
saying II come and :grumble, and
abuse every body and every thing. I
tried to go back to my painting this
morniog-confound it, I can do moth
ing with it; I can do nothing but grum-
ble." Dick often rode over to see thae;
little widow ; he would come in the
worst Of spirits, and go away oheered
and touched by Madame Fontaine's
constant kindness and sympathy, The
little woman had learned out of the
depths Of her own morbid experiences
to be tender, and gentle, and forbearing
with others wandering in the same
dreary labyrinth in which she had
been utterly lost only a very little
while ago; SO it seemed to her, looking
back. Things were different now, and
Catharine could not help wondering
Why, sometimes, and feeling that to
the dearest friend, the tenderest,
the most loyal simple heart that
ever beat, she owed more than she
could ever pay with lifetime Of love
and fidelity. She did not feel any
particular gratitude to Lady Farebroth.
er, whose money had contributed to
the pleasant home and its various luxu.
ries, and was doing more good now
than it had ever done in the old lady,f
lifetime but the helping hand, the
kindness, the protecting love which
first rescued her was Fontaine's, and
Catharine did not forget it: one was ,
chance, the other blessing. C.thar'
inc, sitting there with Reine's letter in
her hand, wondered over the many
changes md chances of this mortal life
She knew well enough by this time that
moor Madame de Tracv vaa an1v a.,