Daily globe., 1878-02-24

INJURED In moments Of impatience. knew
IN my soul that Stephenie St. Jean was no
coquette.
Captain Langdale had been ordered to
his regiment, and she had probably re-
diers life is always in peril, and In the
moment Of parting Stephenie had con-
fessed to him what had never sus-
pected.
Heaven knows that had no reason,
and had good cause to think differently.
She had never plighted her troth to me,
but by word and look and sweet priyi.
leges she had accepted my love, and I
had such utter faith in her truth that the
possibility Of her deceivlng me, had never
occurred to my mind. The warmest and
tenderest intimacy existed between us,
and yet she had never given her promise
to marry me.
Sick at heart, realized it now, review
ing the past in the hateful light of my
sudden discovery. Twas lawyer, and in
the long hours of that utterly sleepless
night | studied the case untiringly as if
it had not been my own.
1t was not a matter of mistaken identi-
ty. Leaving out the consideration that
my heart would never in this world mis-
take Stephenie's voice, distinctly saw
the outline Of her bust, and her dress, re-
vealed below the curtain, was very famil-
lar to nc.
1t was cream -Colored silk, trimmed
with black lace. On her feet she wore a
pretty black satin shoe, with a silver
buckle, and the instep showed a cream
colored stocking, embroidered with silk
en- buds and vines.
The dress and the stockings, with It's
embroidery. were all of the same tint,
and the whole costume but two colors---
cream and black. AS she sat within the
blue curtain the artistic effect was very
beautiful
All, no. 1t was Stephenie, peerless
among women: and in heartsick misery |
at length gave up the lost cause.
| The gray dawn was stealing in at my
window, its sweet breeZes bathing my
aching temples, when sat down at my
desk and penned my farewell letter:
"Stephenie:-I cannot trust myself to
see you again. am weak as q child and
worn out with such suffering as | pray
you never may know. Inadvertently,
yesterday, heard you confess your heart
to Captain Langdale ] heard you say
that you loved him. Then you do not
love me! God only knows how utterly
l believed you did, and what feryent
gratitude and happiness there was to me
in that belief. o, my darling! how
could you let me wreck my heart on the
shoals of your mere careless liking? l
was only congenial friend, a pleasant
companion. Your heart was his; and his
alone-farwell!
This passoniate, incoherent letter l di-
rccted to her, then called my valet
9 Pierre, pack some trunks. We will
go down % Black Rocks for the summer. -
The man started.
Pardon, monsieur, it is very dull
down there. No cunning, no fishing, and
no young ladies!'
And consequently no waitipg-maids
for you to ogle," l answered, with a
drcary attempt at ease and hghtness OF
spirits.
But the fellow still looked at me.
8 Monsieur looks very i'll. / will bid
the doctor call on you, and if he consents,
we will 50 to that horrid place to-mor-
row.
"Nonsense! [ shall be we'll enough
after a bath and some breakfast Don't
be impcrtincnt Pierre We start on the
ten O'Clock train"
Black RrOck was not Inhabited by
fashionable society; this was my only
reason for choosing 1t. The Neptune
i T
large, rambling, old-tashioned inn, not
the least in the world like a modern sea-
side hotel
My valet, Of course, arranged all the
conveniences of my life; consequently l
did not know the dark skinned old WON
an who one day presented herself at ,he
door of my apartment, with a long cov4r
cd basket npon her arm. My man was
busting a coat on my back piazza.
"There is some one at the door
Pierre" said to him, as I sat At the
window with a book, which 1 was not
reading.
( 1T is the washerwoman. She is q
very nice laundress, monsieur
"Yes,' I said, indiferently. Pa,
her"
He received the carefully Uncovered bas
ket settled the bill, and the woman de.
parted.
Pierre prepared to arrange my linen by
opening a bureau door. turned page
of my book as he with 2rew the white
cloth from the basket, when my atten-
ton was again arrested by his excama
tions:
"Mon Dieu! Laces rutfles!'
whats the matter, Picrre?n
"These are ladies things. Here Is ;
wrapper with tluted ruf1les, white skirts
nd,-ha, ha ha.--embroidered stockings
Mees Betsey, Mees Betsey, come
back"
He dropped the basket on the floor anc
rushed after the old woman. I glanced
within, and saw a mass OF: snowy lace anC
embroideries; beautiful as Il bed of lilies
The clothing was too dainty and expen
slve to belong to any one but lady
and wondered who the owner Nigh,
be.
In one corner was a pile Of hosiery
The stockings were not all white-one
pair was OF a cream color, with silk
embroidery Of buds and vines: and while