New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1874-04-05

so frantic, so despairing and heartbroke
thatI was filed with establishment. Coul
this be the calm and selfcomposed woma
whom had known go long7 What chill
did she speak of? During all the year
that had known her no hint that she wa
a mother had ever passed her lips, and n
visitor but myself had entered her doors,
was sure.
But her grief now unscaled her lips, an,
in accents both quick and low, she told M
the secret of her life-that secret which
she had hoped to have carried with her t.
the tomb.
She was the daughter of one of tn,
proudest families of the State. No expens,
or care had been spared in her bringing up
and when she entered the gay world Mile
Auzete de Beauvilliers THAT was her rea
name), both in point of beauty and fortune
had right to the first position in it's ranks
The world knew that she married a French
side, when the report came back that she
had died there, all believed it, and she had
been forgotten. had often heard he,
beauty described by elderly Creole ladies'
and her early death lamented, but l little
thought that my friend and nurse Lizzie
was this celebrated heiress.
| Her husband, the Marquis, upon whom
she had bestowed all her youthful aztec.
| tons, and whom, strange to say, she still
| loved most devotedly, proved to be vii.
lain Of the deepest dye. Notwithstanding
her nuptials had been solemnzed with every
necessary ceremony to make them legal and
binding in both countries, two years after
her arrival in France she discovered that he
had been previously secretly married to a
young girl who lived near his chateau in
Normandy, and who now, armed with all
the necessary proofs, appeared and claimed
her rights. Lizzie (tor so I must always
call herr, was enceinte when she made this
terrible discovery. As said before, she
devotediy loved her husband, and saw at
glance that if she forced the other woman
to make the exposure he would be in dan
ger of suffering the penalty which the
severe laws of France inflicted upon the
bigamist She thought not of herself nor
her unborn child, nor the vast fortune
which she left behind in the hands of her
undoer; but hastily collecting her Jewels,
and leaving note to tell the Marquis that
she was out of his way forever, fed in
disguise to the United States, where,
in an obscure village in the West,
her child was born. A kind nun,
who had been her preceptress in childhood,
took charge of the little girl when it was
old enough to be separated from her, and
she, assuming the name of Lizzie, came to
New Orleans and lived as had known her
to do. But she had regular tidings of her
child, notwithstanding her apparent Sc
clusion, and when she grew to be woman
to have her brought to New Or
leans and placed in a family of the highest
responsibility, who received her at the re-
quest of the mother superior of the con-
vent where she had been educated, with
the understanding that she was an orphan.
Marie, Lizzie's daughter, was as beautiful |
IS her mother had been, and was not long
IN finding a sutton to her hand. Lizzie, |
through the sister, gave her handsome |
1Owry-which she had saved during all |
.hese years of her retracy, and Marie be-
'ame the happy wife of wealthy and dis
inguished young physician of this city.
But in an evil hour some envious tongue
ave circulation to the report that she was
he daughter of a quadroon woman of bad
epute who died few years before aud was
,nown to heve left daughter. This came
t last to her husband's ears, and he at once
Of her whether or no it was true.
he knew absolutely nothing of her birth, it
ever having been deemed necessary to tell
er. Seeking the nun, she asked for the
ruth, but that lady further than assuring
or that she was OF pure white parentage,
vould tell her nothing. Remembering but
tile of her mother, and that little only ex-
lting suspicious in her own heart that the
ale was true, she resolved to die rather than
We thus disgraced, and so poisoned herself,
saving note to her husband telling him
her motives for so acting. The poison
i'd not produce an Immediately fatal effect, |
ut it was suppose d she could not recover.
hese tidings had just come to Lizzie
trough her secret source of information,
I'D hence her grief and despair.
She came to me fer advice. Should she
once go to her daughter and avow her
III, and prove that the reports were false9
she did SO she must not sop half way,
r this REPUTATION must be as public as the ;
lmors had now become; so she would have
publish her husbands crime, and per-
Fps he might be brought to punishment.
I'd she felt that she loved him too well to
ntemplate this catastrophe without NOR
fear.
To me her duty appeared clear. She
ust go at once to her daughter and ex-
ain all. Perhaps Marie could be saved
Vt by turning her grief into joy, and it was
'ssible that her husband would not insist &
at any further disclosures should be a
ade. So l called cab, and forcing her
to it, went with all speed to DR.. Ms.
We were not too late. Marie was still
i've and conscious. Pushing by the SER c
nts, we proceeded at once to her room |
d turned to look for Lizzie. So changed l
rs she that rubbed my eyes, thinking g
at they had failed me. She swept up to 8
r daughters bedside without sound, her a
rm appearing to have expanded to grand t
oportions; there was color in her cheeks t
d heavenly light in her eyes, and with t
voice as sweet as the IEolian harp and as P
# as the signing of summer breeze, she L
id: L
Marie, my child, your mother has come t.
I'M her grave to bid you live. Behold d
3 ! No faint is in my blood nor disgrace j