The daily gazette., 1877-08-25

| NV hooiiy III tts duasemenJ, Uut ln
Its restored and added diguity-abov.
all, the riches that would flow in upon
them and their children. Besides, heir
family were all of the very sex 80 co.
veted by the count. Surely she could
not object to having a gentle and deli.
cate girl OF royal blood in her house,
one who could stay with her when
her when her rude aud registering bows
had all gone out into the world to make
their fortunes, forgetting almost tina,
they ever had mother. Aud his ar
gument prevailed. The mother
agreed TO sell herchildl .s
| The count returned to his wife, with
bland suavity ofmauner which fair
~ deceived the poor lady. Lying
there, with the tiny atom u,ol her
arm, and press d closely to the breast
from which 1t was drawing the first
sweet nourishment of its life, she Lis.
tened with thrill of happiness long
unknown to the kind and tender words
he uttered. H. toll her of Cniappini's
child, and the sympathizing woman
lamented his disappointment and re-
gretled feelingly that her own babe
was only girl.
Then the temper seized that moment
OF regret to press his suit with the
wondering mother. How ingeniously
he turnedAnd doubled and persisted in
every plea. HOW he painted In glow
Ing colors that future that would open
so royalty upon her and upon the b abe
born on the same night as her own.
and which would draw its existence
from her breast as this one was now
doing. He arI Q lied to every weak
point In her nature, and especially to
that ambition which he knew had long
possessed her.
Ana when the morning light shone
faintly into her darkened room, the first
object that met her strainng ewes was
the swarthy face and square head of the
Jewish boy, in the place of her own deli
cate child. While she slept the exchange
hal been quietly made by Chiaplini,
who brought his child to her room, and
took away the little pearl to shine amid
the troop of wondering eyes at home.
Fortunately for them ali, the count had
not revealed the whole of his position
to the Jew. He had, 1t is true, obscure.
ly limited that through his sons instu-
mentality, the race of Bourbons might
be restored; but he had never told him
that he was Duke of Orleans, but simply |
Count de Joinville.
There were two baptisms in one day, |
in the season following the children's
birth. One was in the capital of France, |
whether the count had carried tine jew |
ish boy, He was baptized by the name /
of Louis Philippe! The other was In !
the house of the Jew, after the manner |
of his sect, and consecrating a sweet and !
lovely little girl as Marie Stella Petrom-
lila.
Had the count proven himself as wise |
as he was scheming and ambitious, he
would have taken the Jewish boy far |
away from his real relatives, and would |
never have suffered himself nor his wife
to look upon the sweet face of Marie. 1t |
was with astrange mixture of regret and
gladness that the countess heard that
Marie and her reputed mother were bit.
terly averse to each other. She saw the
child growing up in stately beauty,
wonder to all beholders how so fair ill
ly had its birth in such household; and
fear alone prevented her from taking her
to her heart and sending home the dark,
hued Jewish boy. But she knew the
penalty she must pay for ouch rashness
and, hard as was the alternative, she !
was forced to obey its requirements.
These thoughts tortured her for seven
teen years; until Marie bad become a
wife. Lord Newburg, an English noble
IN an, saw and loved; and he carried her
to a beautiful home; where she felt no
longing for the one she had left. Her
childhood had been unloved and ne
elected, and her heart warmed TO the
love that met her upon foreign shore.
When her husband died she did not
wish to return; and soon after she was
again sought in matrimony by Baron
a Russian nObleman. They
went TO st Petersburg, and lived in the
extreme of Russian style; but one thought
still haunted Marie, rendering the sweet
est cup bitter one to her taste. Amid
all her splendor she felt that she owed it
to her husband alone. She had nothing
to bring him nothing but the mortifying
that she was only the
daughter OF Laurent Chiappini, the jailer
the pdrUenu, 1t was gall and bitterness
to the handsome, stylish baroness, who
for her husbands sake, was admitted to
the elite of Russian society.
Meantime, st. Petersburg, as well as
all the rest of the world, was ringing
with the miserable death of the Duke Of
Philippe, the jailer's son, but nominally
a prince of the blood of Bourbon, be-
cam ethe next duke of that name. The
baroness read and sighed Perhaps she
thought a disgraced nobleman was a
more desirable ancestor than she had
poss' 8 ed ,pt rbapssh deemed 1t more nom
orable to perish on the scatfold than to
have hanged Others there.
But the wheels of time go on; and oc-
casionally they turn up odd and strange
chances that startle and make us pause
with sense of the insecurity of all hui
man expectations. The poor baroness
was again a widow, had travelled and
seen the world. Her son-the only child
she had ever borne-was the companion
of her wanderipgs; and after years of
with the past, she had again
settled down at the age of fifty, to take
life as it might come, or prepare herself
to JON the beloved ones gone before.
Memory was still busy at her heart.
She thought of her early childhood, rem
dered miserable by an unloving, cold
hearted mother, who loved gold better
than her daughter. She remem bered the
pale, sad countess, who used to look as
her with such yearning look when no
one was by, but who shrunk from her
when Others came. And one day in the
midst of her musing, there came Letter.
She opened 1t and read. 1t was from one
of those whom she had called brothers;
from Laurent Chiappini, the younger. !
His father had died recently, and bad
left a letter for the baroness, which he
nclosed, detailing her real birth, his own
tpmntation and her fathers guilty am j