The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1877-08-01
BY THE SUMMER SEA.

now palc you aEe, NuoA "hao
ails you? You have not been yourself
these three weeks and more" observed
Camilla Kenwick to her petite, dark
eyed maid.
=" Heaven it is you who are not your
SELF" returned Ninon, as she nervously
adjusted spray Of delicate, wax-white
buds in the rich, black hair of her hand
some mistress. "You talk all day to
NJ. Antoine Chariot, and all night you
moan in your dreams of Ralph-nothing
but Ralph-madam and in the morn
ing the pillow is wet with the tears you
have shed in your dreams. Your cheeks
are always too hot or too cold, and-par-
don me-your temper is just the same
of late. Is it for the little quarrel, AMI
do you love Raoul 50 we'll ?"
Camilla Kenwick sighed and stirred
uneasily in her luxurious dressing-chair
of rosy velvet, as Ninon uttered Ralph's
name in the French rendering with a
pretty, tender, Frenehitedc lisp. =
The girl drew back with o gesture of
admiration.
"Look, madam-at yourself-in the
mirror" she cried, with mercurial de-
light, seeing how her deft duties had
enhanced the witcheries of creature
fairer than Circe. "Your eyes are y
"Black, Ninon, interrupted the lady,
laughing "black, and nothing more"
"They are like two black pools reflect
ing two evening stars" continued the
vivacious French maid.
"You are sad hatterer," said Camilla
Kenwick, not wholly pleased with the
fulsome admiration of the girl whom
she had made petted favorite. 1" am
better satisfied with you when you cate
chise me-"
".Are you, madam? Heaven! | am
glad it is so, for have something in my
heart that must be said"
"What, Ninon ?" inquired Camilla,
starting, as the toyed with her boqu t
of camelias and white rosebuds; "what
is it?"
The tiny face of the little French
maid grew pallid, and the 1.-the, dainty
form quivered; although her voice was
brave and full of melody.
Madam, dee-ar madam, please let
Antoine Chariot know that you are a
wife. Why will you take such an unfair
advantage of the blunder of the hotel
clerk who registered you as mademoiselle
instead of madam? If Antoine really
loves you, when he finds himself de-
ceived, he will kill you or himself. 1
know him." ..'
,"You call him Antoine. You certainly
speak as if you knew him. answered
Mrs. Kenwick, with slight hauteur.
"Who and what is he -
GA French professor of music from
New York, who is stopping at Wild
Rose Cliff for n few weeks of rest" said
Ninon, with pitiful assumption of in
difference.
"You know more than that, Ninon," "
said Camilla, ,angrily and fearfully; land
you shall tell me what it is.
.Ninon was silent.
Camilla clasped the slender wrist of the
girl with cruel clutch.
"Speak !" she demanded.
"I will," said Ninon, " if you will let
me so and face me honestly, as one
woman should another. ...--.
Mrs. Ksnwick dropped her hand in
stantiy.
"You have been good girl, Ninon,
and will give you your way" she said,
gently; eve all know that NJ. Chariot
is a professor of music. What more
lis he?"
"He was my promised husband in
France" said the girl, weeping; d" the
wedding g day was fixed, the marriage set
d. Elements made, and everything else
necessary was arranged. when my father,
who was q merchant in Paris, failed, and
died-by his own hand. Then knc il
was my expected dover, and not me, that
Antoine loved, for he fled, and l never
saw him again until he camehere to Wild
Bose Cliff" aes-..-.@. . ..-, y Ia
"But you loved him?" qaeried
Camilla, startled. ,e..-.scs
"IIeyed him so well that sIfollowed
him across the ocean answered Nlnon.
81 love him still with just that same in,
tense, jealous, passionate love, with
which Raoul loves you, my lady. O
madame, trih he not with Antoine, you dc
not care for him, and to Antoine slight.
ed love would be death. To you and
Raoul it would be worse than death
You know it; for you weep for your hus.
band all night long, though it was but a
little thing that parted you; and do you
think Raoul suffers less than you ?"
"Stop, Ninon !" said the lady authori.
tatively, her proud face as colorless as
the flowers she held.
"Pardon p returned the girl; "bui
must you break hearts as the only pas.
time that will ease your trouble. See,
your sister-for you have called me sis:
ter my mistress, many times, kneels tc
you and begs you to give back her An
tome, her lover"
The little maid was on her knees, and
& her dark urls trembling from out he,
pretty cap, half hid the round, infantile
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