The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1871-02-15

cOis could relieht the lamps, they we're al
ready at the door.
Thus the days passed Camilles eyes
often bad sorrowful expression, and, for
the first time in her life, her sleep was dis
turbed by frightful dreams Starting up,
sometimes, with a cry of terror, she would
lean ber arm upon the pillow, and weep like
frightened child.
At mass, she prayed longer and more fer
vently than ever before, and sometimes quite
forgot to coquet with her ad nirers. Even
the duke could not obtain look from her.
Where was Jacques?
At last the day arrived, on which the curl
ous throng pressed into the salon, for the de-
cision OF the far-famed trial of love. What a
host of eager, charming faces Even the
beautiful, proud Camargo wore an air of un-
usual excitement. Camille herself, although
in richest dress, was looking pale, and cast
anxious glances toward the door, which Fran
co.'s was necessarily opening, to admit fresh
arrivals.
The philosopher, Etienne Cordillac, and
tho Duke de Babe Berton appeared, each
wearing a triumphant smile. Jacques was
not there The dial-hand marked the hour
of ten--the decision must be spoken!
The DYKE stepped gravely forward, and
placed q small book in the hand of the balle-
rins, whose disquiet increased every moment.
''You have only to glance over these pages,
fairest of the fair, he said, ito see that
have almost ruined myself for your sake.
Here are my receipts noted down-there the
expenses of the last month. am ready to
complete the sacrifice for the prize of your
heartl"
Petitpas laid aside the book, with sad
smile.
'And what have you done for me, Etienne
Cordillac 2" said her sweet voice.
81 chose the hardest, voluntary exile
Who could do more for the queen of his
thoughts ?" cried the renowned philosopher.
81 ~ replied new voice, and Francois the
old servant, stood in the centre of the room.
One moment, and the servants dress fell
upon the foor-the wig he removed with a
low bow. In his uniform, his handsome face
radiant with the ruddy glow of enthusiastic
emotion, jacques stood before his beloved
and her brilliant circle.
II think that / have accomplished the
severest task, he said, sinking gracefully to
his knee, and laying his wig at the feet of Pc
titpas. 'I challenge all men to imagine a
harder penance Daily, hourly, to look upon
the adored queen of my heart, without allow
ing myself to approach her, or receive one
glance from her eyes-to do her a thousand
| little services with the humble department
| of the most insignificant attendant-to lead to
her with my own hands my most dangerous
rivals, and to bring to her their letters glow
ing with love-could purgatory devise a
sharper punishment ?"
A cry of applause followed. The ladies'
were enchanted with the handsome lackey-
the gentlemen crowded, laughing, to his side,
Babe and Cordillac acknowledged them
selves outdone. And Camille Smiling and
blushipg, she gave her white hand to her
childhood friend, then turned with bewitch-
ing grace to her vsnquished adorers.
''If be is guilty of the slightest negligence
in his service, will send him away and en-
ploy another" she laughed, in exuberance of
| Joy, with q tender glance at her beloved,
''and who knows how soon 1 may be forced
| to do so, if"
'Pdttence!" interrupted the philosopher,
and the duke suppressed a sigh. But his face
cleared again, as charming Mademoiselle
Sale laid her little hand upon his arm, and
whispered, teasingly:-
''If 1 wanted q servant, there isl nobody
whom would rather engage than you!"
They passed into the dining-saloon,
Camille on the arm of her lover. The table
elittered with costly furniture, and fresh
flowers breathed perfume from the marble
vases. Boufflet and Cordillac sat next to
| Anne Camargo; Voltaire, opposite her, by
Mademoiselle Sale; the duke on the other
side.
Suddenly, the beautiful Camargo leaned
backward for a moment, and looking, with a
smlle, upon uer HeIBhoorS, dSkeu, Onall we
also lay wager?"
SIN year-only not to-day" cried Babe,
with comic energy. Il shall need as much
time as that to scrape li0re together!"
''And shall need, 1 fear, more than one
year to grow as handsome as the lackey of
Petitpas - said Voltare.
Meanwhile Camiles fingers were toying
with rose; softly they glided into the hand
of her young friend.
'Are you not sorry that it is who have
vanquished you both ?" asked the young
officer, softly, seeking Camille's eyes. "Are
yOu happy, Camille ?"
"Oh, Jacques happy as in that sweet time
when l danced for you in the red shoes !"
Nobody ever heard of change of servants
in the house of the famous Petitpas; but al
the ladies' of Paris envied her so handsome,
clever, and faithful an attendant --AppletORs
Journal.