Litchfield enquirer., 1878-10-31
GFrom Harper's Weekly ] MELANIE.


 playing, whist. Madame De Beauvais, the charming chateaine of the quaint. stiff, ro0my, entirely pleasant old pile within whose hospit- able walls they were gathered, sat opposite the handsome priest, while Monsieur De Beali- vais, with unfailing cheerfulness, had trumped hls partners trick, until the placid depths of baron de Font -Reale's even temper were stir red to annoyance, and he rubbed the few re- Emaining hairs that wandered over his shining head so vigorously to and fro that the distract ed locks, not knowing upon which side he wished them finally to repose, had compromis- ed the matter by standing straight up in sill very tuft, which rose above the. old gentle mans pleasant face like comical httle horn. ready for defense if Monsieur De Beauvais's playing went from bad to worse, and, as was not seldom the case, a genuine dispute follow ! ed. u 4sss.. lsa h.a.9 . ;. l. Just now there was an entr'aete and calm, I while the little party of offourregaled itself with cakes and mild deoactlon called tea, which 4 (I61ip De BeanVais, who had once spent a I week in London, and had been mildly smitten 1 with Anglomania ever since, fondly prided herself was tea 8 PAnglaise. 9. l At precisely ten the sweet, faint chime of madames elegant antique trif1e called clock I nlagically summoned swift-footed, noiseless l slave in spotless attire, who deftly compound ed the cheering beverage, apparently after the | fashion with which his more accustomed fng- CTS had mixed salad two or three hours be- 1 fore. Auguste was prodigal of hot water and i stingy of tea, liberal with the sugar but dis l erect as to milk-Or rum, an elegant little jug i of which latter innocent-looking fluid was an l unavailable accompaniment to tea at the Chat l eau de Beauvais.
 l When the silent matre d'hotel had departed, l to share with madame's femme de chambre whatever scraps of gossip he had managed to collect during his short stay Tn the salon, Me laine de Beauvais--a tall, dark-haired young girl, who had been silently musing in distant corner-came forward, and passed around some delicate little cakes, leaving them finally, after quick glance at the Abbe Tuvache's handsome face, upon the table just before him. She met her fathers look of proud fondness with charming smile, and then stepping l through the open casement-for though the days of September were growing few, summer had forgotten to go away from Normandy she stood just outside, listening to the gentle plash of the old fountain and the whispering of the forest trees beyond. ..-
 The Abbe Tuvache himself, as if the rum which filled goodlY share of his dainty Scvres cup were not enough, had added flaw bring of gossip which evidently was deeply in- l teresting to the listeners, the more especially as it chiefly concerned Paul de Font Reale, | who had come. with his uncle to make an an- nual visit at the chateau, and hunt, or rather 1 shoot, in the De Beauvais forest. 1 'tAnd so" continued the smiling abbe, sip ping with evident satisfaction the mixture Au- guste had placed before-''so spoke her fair, you know, for old Madame Lafitte has dan- gerous tongue. But 1 said to myself that not 8 l finger would lift to bring about such a mar riage as that. It is very we'll for Monsieur Paul to hunt Andre Laftte's wild boars: but l to marry his daughter Dame! it is another pare de manches :" t.s ....
 ''Crois bien !" again sung the little chorus, in various keys sas
 ''So,' rose Madame De Beauvais's musical solo-''so it was, then Madame Lafitte Tiens tiens! what won't those nouveaux | riches aspire to next? 'Barbe bleue ? ma file calls her, and really not without reason for the woman has voice and beard like man. So it was the old Latitte!' madame repeated, | gingerly building little rows of card tents as she spoke "Her grandchild will have 8 mill lion francs of dot. l wish we could give our Melanie half as much. But farms that yield a. pitiful three per cent cannot vie with cloth manufactories that pay I don't know how much, and -"
 'I don't care how much" Monsieur De Beauvais took her up. ''Give me-" he ex- claimed with the pride of true Norman, whose chief and satisfying ambition is in ad- ding field to field, and farm to farm-s'give me my dear fields and forests and"
 And they are dear," put in madame (who was Parisan), with light laugh. ''It seems to me, mon ami that all the rent we have yet received from that little farm you bought last year is sixteen chickens, lean and old and some few pounds of butter-fat and old, too | But million francs is a belle dot," she resum- ed, building up anew the unsteady card houses, which had fallen en masse, "a bien belle dot and doubtless time will kindly bestow upon the little Julie additional attraction of whls- l ker as faseinatingly blue and stiff as that | which decorates her grandmother's wrinkled cheek. Melanie dear, come in and give me drop more tea. Not too strong, child, or 1 shall not sleep wink all night and no milk, remember. But where is Monsieur Paul all this timer" questioned madame, suddenly, and of no one in particular, continuing with care- full patience her fragile pastebOard architecture and regarding the whole with evident satisfac- tion the graceful play of her plump white hands.
 Probably gone down to the shore" an swered Monsieur De Beauvais, "whither 1 will follow him, and just take look at the sea-it l is the high tide, you know-while you others are finishing your tea. I will only be absent few moments; but should 1 not be back in time to go on with the whist-which really" he interpolated, lis toolong and silent, and re- | UuITt6 tOU StEkCt HOuS II 1 dare say no one will be inconsolable. And you, my old friend"- smiling at the baron land monsieur Pabbe, can finish the evening with comfortable game at ecarte;" and for 1 tifying himself with the mildest of cigarettes, Monsieur De Beauvais departed to mediate | by still and moon-lit sea.
 ssOr Monsieur De Font-Reale can play with dummy, which will be about the same thing" | laughed madame, as her husband disappeared; land then he will be responsible for trumping l his own tricks Thanks, mon enfant, the tea is 1 just right" ,
 'I suppose Paul ought to marry money, l poor fellow l" said Monsieur De Font Reale; | dipping little cake abstractedy into his tea and going back to the interrupted matrimonial discussion ''his few thousand frances barely suffice to keep ayoung man in boots and gloves, and my poor brother left the boy nothing but a sword which fought for it's country, and an honorable name. But Julie La1tte, whose fa- ther once made my coats! It is really trOp fort. Why, it is not many years, ;" went on the cid baron, putting down his cup to attack the pugilistic little horn, which he finally left standing rakishly over his right ear-''not many years since Andre Lafitte measured me | for my last dress-coat- (which must say fit- ted well, and was made of such good cloth that l wear it still-and now te can count his l millions, and would buy the son of Leon De Font | PCtle lOF LHG lILGiG DlGh DuL GQG WOrI0 l is turning round the wrong way, 1t seems to me-"
 And money, not love, seems to send it round," laughed the Abbe Tuvache; ''but Paul de Font -Reale, with his proud old name his rare intelligence, and his charming person, must look for better partie than the little La fitte. If he should have to seek really large dot in the ranks of trade, there is no need to I go to the bottom of those ranks, ma foi And . lkI,s, ,oF G/>l discreetiy lowering his voice, Monsieur Paul can SC consoler, you know"
 And then, after half-whispered and decid- edly mundane conversation, the Abbe Tuvache slipped into minute history of certain conso- lations which Monsieur De Beauvas pere- lately deceased, and for whom the abbe was to say an imposing mass upon the morrow had allowed himself during the lifetime of a patient invalid wife.
 Interested in his own recital, and charmed at the profound impression his revelations were evidently creating, the Abbe Tuvache