The Toledo chronicle. [volume] (Toledo, Tama County, Iowa) 1873-1924, 1874-10-08

The little Babette was that day not
well, so her mother was forced to remain
at home as nurse But when Jean was
fairly out Of the house Varieties heart
failed her :" If he should be drawn-if
substitute could not be found-if-but
no." One look at the old bureau treasured
her. The remembrance of her mothers
between her and all possible trouble
:. Thanks to the good mother, all will be
right" she murmured, though her tears
| fell
She was almost child still
1t was late in the evening before Jean
returned home, and the first sight of his
wan, white face almost frightened Mari
cite out of her senses.
What is it," she asked. What has
happened?"
at is all over, Mariette l must go-I
am drawn"
You go-yous" echoed the young
wife Are you mad, Jean? Is it posi-
bic that you can get no substitute: Jean,
answer me, for PHYS sake" as he still
made no reply.
Yes-yes, if could pay him, there
| is Joseph, the woodlands son, would will
ngly take my place, but"
But why talk Of money, Jean? Where
is the key Of the bureau? Don't delay
moment" cried Marietta excitedly.
The key-oh. yes-the key. It-that
! forget
mo, no, Jean, here it is. What are
YOU thinking of Here it is round your
ne ckn
But as her fingers touched the key
leans hand grasps hers and holds it SO
lightly that he hurts her.
Jean, what is its'
For second their eyes met, and then
| there crosses the young wlfe's heart such
a spasm of terror and doubt that she
calls out as if in pain. Jean drops her
hand.
1T is no good looking, Marietta" he
said, after a moments pause, in
strange, hoarse voice You would find
nothing. The money is-spent.'
Marietta could only gaze at him in
kind of blank stupor.
Spent, Marietta. Do you hears Do
YOU understands" and suddenly Jean,
| leaning his head on his hands, burst into
| a storm of passionate tears. God for
give me-" he cried, Il have robbed the
child and ruined US all Why don't you
speak, Marietta: Say something, if only
| to reproach me-"
Then Marietta found words-not Of re-
| proach but of loving, wifelycounsel and
| help. In moment she seemed trans
| formed A child no longer, the old
things were put away forever. The old
| spirit Of careless happiness Of blind re-
lance, was indeed fled, but in its place
| nober spirit had taken up its abode
| within her-a spirit that could suffer
and dare and endure. She was woman
at last.
\ woman very full of strong, earnest
purpose, one would have said who
saw her the morning after these events,
leaving her house at daybreak, stealing
away from her still sleeping husband,
her child by her side, and on her arm
basket in which were carefully slowed
away all the small treasures which she
possessed-her cross of Breton work, her
gold earrings, and her silver chain.
Jean, we must find the money" she
said to her husband the night before,
when he became calmer
Where" Jean had asked, drearily.
One hundred, ay, even perhaps two
hundred, francs it might be possible yet
| to raise upon the farm, he had said after
| awhile; but three hundred-no-there
was no help for it, he must go.
! For the sake of hundred francs
No, no, JEAN Marietta had returned
| cheerily. II will get you that-leave it
| to me-
| But TO her utter CONSERVATION, when
all are disposed of-cross, earrings,
chain and even her wedding shawl-she
| IS not yes half way toward the hundred
! francs. What can she do To return
home without the money is impossible
| impossible, She repeats as she walks
YEARLY up and down the one street of
the little market town where she had
taken her wares She stops opposite
window that had attracted her more than
| once. II is that of the artistic en- cAerour.
Varieties hair had always been consid-
! cred one of her special beauties. Now
the thought comes to her again and again
| that by it she might raise the required
| sum. But could she possibly bring her.
self to make this sacrifice? She hesitates:
| draws back; it is to save her husband
she will.
Clasping her child's hand tightly in hers
as If for protection she enters the shop.
| and before the old artistic can ask her
pleasure lets fall a mass OF soft brown
silk about her shoulders
What will you give me for il ?" she
asks, with a beating heart.
Sixty francs, Madam" returns the
Old man, after critical inspection. 1t
is the sum she wants
:. Cut it, cut it, and be quick she
cries eagerly
The work of destruction does not take |
long. A few moments in the BARRIERS |
chair, few clips Of the scissors, and |
the brown silken glory is lost to Marietta
forever
Silently she submitted to the process |
with meek patience that had some. |
thing OF martyr spirit in it, Babette in
the meantime making delighted tour Of |
discovery round the room among the |
wigs and pomades and paraphernalia Of |
the BARRIERS art, until all at once the |
Child catches sight, in a mirror, of her
mothers altered appearance She rushed
to her with a scream of horror.
"Oh! mamma! mamma! what has the
wicked man doneg" she cried, in great
distress. He has taken my mamma
away, and left an ugly-oh! quite an
ugly-mamma instead"
Then, ard then only, Varieties heart
failed her. The martyr and the heroine
were all forgotten, and the innocent van
ity of the woman's nature rose to the
surface. Her tears fell fast. What had
been losts One terrible fear took pos
session of her. The child said she was
ugly now. Would Jean-would her hus-
band-think SO, too. What If this sacri-
nee made SO willingly for his sake should
turn his love away from herr MT