Connecticut western news., 1873-12-26

ate hand. At the same moment Gabri- elle saw what was lying on the bed.
 A dead body, the corpse of what had been @ handsome dark-complexioned man in the pride of youth and noble, vigorous form. And Gabrielle started and almost screamed, so like at the mo- ment did the features and form appear to those of Eugene Valmy. Perhaps the supposed resemblance was only the creation of her fancy, made morbidly sensitive and suggestive by her painful dwelling on thoughts of him. Perhaps there was genuine resemblance. Two men of about the same age and size, dark-haired and dark-bearded, with clear and striking features, may we'll suggest the other to a gazer's mind. almost as if she saw beneath her eye the dead body of Eugene Valmy.
 woman sobbed. "My poor boy Stephen
 Gabrielle sat beside her and took her hand, and soon learned her simple, sad story. The youth was her only son; he was a fisherman; he went out in his boat the night before last; storm came on; he was drowned; the tide washed in his body. That was all. These things happen every day where there are waves and fishermen. :" Men must work, and women must weep"
 "I knew something would happen" /" the old woman went on, relieved to have found sympathetic ear. "He didn't care for life any more; I think he wanted to die. His mothers love was not enough for him."
 "Was he in love ?" Gabrielle asked, gently, and still absorbed in wonder and painful emotion at the resemblance to the vanished Eugene Valmy.
 "In love, ma'am? He was deceived, made a fool of by a vain creature, a thing with 0 pretty face-at least he thought her pretty didn't-and with out heart. She played with the boy, and set him mad, and then she threw him away because she got an offer from a man who owns few boats and houses down wonder. She flung my son away; and when he tried to touch her with his words and his love, she only mock ed him and treated him with scorn. He came home to me, and he said,
 AOUu0Is II b11 OFOI W4OA 1 II never be the same man again-I've got it right in the heart ' And so he went out in his boat, and the sea was rough, and he didn't take any care, guess and there he lies dead And she who drove him to it is now alive and merry 1! We'll, God forgive her ! O God, for give all such creatures, who have no hearts of their own, and play with the hearts of men! My son! my boy Stephen "
 70 God, forgive all such women, in- deed," said My Lady Disdain, with streaming eyes. And she thought to herself at the same moment, "How much worse am I than this other crea- ture, even as this poor afflicted mother pictures her ! For she did not really love this young man, while IT did love Eugene Valmy. I do love him j; and cast him off and scorned him
 All this time her faace was waiting patiently outside. At last he ventured to look in, and she was thus reminded of his existence, and felt new pang thereat. She must return home, and in his society. Some two or three neighbors of the poor widow dropped in to keep her company, and Gabrielle promised to come again early next morning. As My Lady Disdain was leaving she cast glance back on the dead body. The moon had already risen and flung sad gleam over the white face, and she thought, with @ start and shudder, that that face look ed more like than ever to the face of Eugene Valmy.
 Gabrielle rode home in the moonlight sad and silent. Even her lover began to understand that her soul was not with him.
 Gabrielle slept but little that night. She looked into her own heart and into her life she thought and wept and prayed. ohe rose in the morning puri- fed, strengthened, and elevated. Un- dine's soul, in fact, had entered Un- dine's body at last.
 Soon all the world knew that, for some reason or other, the engagement between Gabrielle RansOme and Ger vase Trenchard had been broken of. Eugene Valmy did not hear of the fact till after his return from Alaska, whither he had gone-that region being the new est subject in his line-to make vol ume, and try to cure himself of his fatal love. He returned to New York un- cured. For time he kept entirely out of any society where Gabrielle might possibly be but he soon told himself that this was @ weakness of which he ought to be ashamed, and that he must be a man among men. So he went boldly into society, and he met her. Then his cheek so burned and his heart SC beat that he feared he could not even speak to her, and that he must actually fly from the field like coward. Perhaps he would have fled but that he still believed Gabrielle was heartless coquette, to whom his suffering would be but triumph and he would, aq the cost of whatever agony, refuse to allow her that triumph. He approached her, and spoke in calm. friendly tones.
 But My Lady Disdain said, " MT. Valmy, when we last met spoke in g manner which wounded you and shamed me. have learned to be sorry for it. Will you forgive me? I have suffered much.
 There was indeed deep and melan. choly expression on her face, such ashe had never seen it wear before.
 Surely, Miss Ransome, when you speak so kindly and earnestly, I must forgive anything you may have said. Let us speak of it no more"
 "Nay, but I must speak of it little more. Have you changed since then. MT. Valmy ?"
 The blood rushed into the young mans face, and he looked wildly, won deringly into hers to seek for the true meaning of her question. He saw only strange, sweet expression there half timid, half encouraging.
 Do you ask me out of mere cruelty Miss Ransome? How could I change The wound I have received shall carry to the grave"
 "Can I not heal the wound, MT Valmy? For I have changed since ther or, if I have not changed, I know my | true self at last"