Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1879-09-28

ner and request, and also vaguely hurt
she scarce knew how or why. Indeed
she had wondered often, l-tely, at a sub
tie and unpleasant change in LOUIS
Could it be possible that she was about
to discover its cause?
"You ask singular favor" she said
with forced quietness. care you aware
that my dear mother worked at this
veil9" O. 81. r. r. ... 81
The hot, lmpulsive temper answered
instantly, without thought: at is fol
that very reason that hate it."
And then she understood him. This
daughter of America had been slow to
suspect or comprehend the pride of the
French aristocrat, but she saw all clearly
now; and she would not marry the man
who thought he stopped to take her. She
folded up the veil and gently, but firmly
said:
"You did not know, when first YOU
sought me for bride, that mamma was
a lace-worker in France; if you had per
haps you would not have loved me. Since
you have learned this fact you have re-
GREETED our engagement-you need not
speak; I have seen a change in you-I
feel that this IS so! But there is no harm
done,' she went on, with simple dignity,
"since have learned the truth before it
is too late, and "so"-she held out to him
a trembling, little hand, which he took
mechanically-"and SO will grant the
favor you covet, my friend. Your bride
shall not wear my darling mothers veil'
here he kissed the hand, and she drew
it quickly away-but that is because I
shall not be your bride!''
No need to dwell upon what followed.
His prayers, his protestations humble
at first, then angry-her tears, that had
no power in them to sap the strength of
her resolution. They parted coldly at
last-lovers still in heart, for love dies
not so easily, but outwardly seeming
scarcely even friends.
She stood proudly as he left the room
when the sound of the street door clos.
ing after him, struck like knell of hope
to her young. passionate heart, she flew
to the window and watched him out of
sight.
"Go! go!' she cried, dashing away the
tears that blinded her. "Go from nv
eyes, hateful tears. and let me see my
love for the last time! NV love! nv
love! And have lost him!'
She sank down and sobbed. Just then
the sound of her mothers voice, singing
merrily an old French song in a room
| above, came to her ears. Once more she
| dashed the tears away:
"He despised you, my darling mamma
you! No, no, I will neuer pardon
him!''
Her parents questioned her in vain.
She had quarreled with Louis; that was
all they could learn. And before a
chance for reconciliation came, Elsie was
smitten with mortal illness, and died in
three days, and Adele, overwhelmed by
the awful calamity, was Frustrated with
brain fever.
| At this juncture a summons came from
France, demanding his immediate pres
ence there. Strange changes had taken
! place. Two Of the three lives that had
stood between him and the title and es-
tates of the Marquis de la Riviere had
been suddenly swept away. and the third,
frail and delicate child, Law diving.
The present marquis, himself feeble old
man, was also at the point of death, so
| they sent in haste to Louis, as the heir.
The news bewildered him His heart
swelled 9Th exultation and delight, but
it sank again. Adele! Had he not
lost Adelea 81 care not for rank or wealth
unless she shares them!" cried his heart.
II will GO and implore her pardon"
He made the attempt, but in vain.
He sought her father, and said a few
words to HIM, however, that might have
made all we'll again had she ever heard
them; but she never did. When her long
and wasting sickness was over at last,
! and she began, slowly and feebly, to take
hold on life, she found herself an orphon
In very truth; Walter had followed Elsie
to a better world.
Not even then had she drained the cup
OF sorrow to the dregs; her fathers affairs
had been terribly involved; when all was
settled she was penniless.
Poor Adele. Truly might it be said
that her sorrows ''came not single spies
but in battalions;'' father, mother, lover,
| home, all gone. What had life left to
offer her but patience and pain?
And Luisf He would have written
her Immediately upon his arrival in Paris,
but that he felt SO blissfully sure that her
father would make all WELL A few weeks
later he did write; informing her fully of
his strangely altered fortunes, and i'm
| ploring her to pardon and accept once
more as her true lover, the Marquis de
| la Riviere.
And the letter never reached her. The
house to which it came was empty and
deserted, the lately happy home was
broken up, and the little American girl,
for whom husband, and title and for
| tune were waiting in Sunny France, was
earning sorrowful living as lace max
| cr!
Such are some of the strange reverses
ton.
So the marquis waited for an answer
in vain. Then pride rose up in arms:
"She scorns me-" he thong ht "She, a
poor peasants child. I am punished for
my folly" And he resolved to drive her
from his heart. But after many months
his letters to Adele was returned to him,
crossed and re-crossed with strange ad-
dresses.
1t was messenger of hope to him.
She had not sighted, she had not scorned
him; perhaps she had not ceased to love.
Before another day and night had passed
the marquis was on his journey to New
York
| Need tell of his welcome there? When
did wealth and title fail to find a warm
one? Or of the friends of former years
who flocked to claim acquaintance? Has