The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1879-10-02
peak. but contented himself with en-.

deavoring to utter denial by means of
pantomime. The physician insisted that
he had used profane language, and when
Victor repeated his gestures could not
avoid asking with a smile:
"But, then, you do not mean to say
it swore of itself?"
"Yes,' replied Victor; and for once
he succeeded in expressing himself to
his satisfaction. The Doctor laughed
and so did his patient-at least on one
side of his mouth-and the physician
then laid down for Victor such rules as
| it would be necessary for him to follow.
Two of these rules were very important.
One was that Victor should confine him.
self to eau sucree; the other was that he
should abandon all mental eXertion and
occupy himself with moderate physical
exercise. To enforce these rules the
Doctor advised that Victor should 90 to
the country for a time. These prelimi-
naries completed, Victor produced his
wallet and looked at his medical adviser,
who said: "My fee for first consulta-
ton is $40. [ presume you can afford
to pay that?"
AYES" responded Victor, although
he meant the opposite, for he did not
relish the idea of expanding that amount
in such manner. However, there was
no escape and the fee was paid.
This was the beginning of a memora-
BILE epoch in Victor Parlenon's career.
He, the good fellow, who had never re-
fused to grant favor, was now most
emphatically man who could not say
emo" His life had been so easy and
generous that now his disease seemed to
have found his weak point, and he was
| to learn by bitter experience that in the
government of individuals and of So
ciety the little word "no - is very inn
portant factor.
After few mishaps, owing to his linn
tied vocabulary, Victor reached the
country place which he had fixed upon
for his residence and took up his abode
| at quiet pension He devoted himself
principally to fishing, for he was too in
| dolent to undertake any severe or pro-
longed muscular exertion. Day by day
word or phrase came back to him
and with each word and phrase his
spirits rose But the one word he need
ed so badly evaded his memory.
One balmy June day Victor was re-
clining by the side of stream ostensi-
bly, engaged in fishing, although he was
really half asleep. Suddenly he was
brought to a sitting position by faint
scream. He looked about him and saw
a female figure short distance away.
"Some hysterical woman frightened at
toad or something" thought Victor :;
and then looking at his watch he con-
| Guided it was time to go to the pension.
Accordingly he picked up his rod and
began to reel in the line. As he did so
the scream was repeated. He stopped
and wondered if it was best to interfere !;
but the woman, whoever she was, re-
tanned her position and Victor thought
perhaps it would not be wise for him to
offer any assistance. Again he began
to reel in the line and again the scream,
| louder and more painful than before,
startled his ear. He dropped the rod
and fastening to where the lady was
sitting politely asked her if he could do
any thing for her. She looked up at
him, revealing bewitching face dap
pied with tears, and between her sobs
told him that she was wading in the
stream when horrible fish-hook caught
in her foot, and that while she was try
ing to get it out it twitched two or three
times, as if there was something pulling
at it. Victor became pale. He knew
all, and he asked the lady to allow him
to remove the hook. With feminine
modesty she refused, and Victor con-
tented himself by going for a carriage
When he returned he found that the fair
that she was boarder at the pension
where he himself was stopping, and that
she had arrived that morning during his
absence.
Mdlle. Beaton recovered rapidly from
her accident, but not too rapidly to pre-
vent Victor from becoming well ac-
quainted with her during his visits of
consolation. He became the attendant
of Mdlle. Beaton and her mother, wild
ow, during their walks, and finally was
the sole companion of Beatrice on al
most all occasions. 1t was not long be-
fore he seemed to have fallen heir to ma
lures greatest and most troublesome
legacy to man.
One pleasant moonlight evening
Beatrice and her mother stood arm-in-
arm at a window as Victor sauntercd
towards the house after stroll. Nine.
Beaton's gaze rested on him.
Beatrice, my love-" said she, "you
had better sit on the veranda, where it is
cooler. | am going up stairs for few
minutes.''
The two exchanged glances, and as
Nine. Beaton moved off in one direction
Beatrice foated towards two chairs
standing SO close together that they
seemed to have caught some of the low
ing spirit of the happy couple who had
last occupied them. Before Victor had
reached the house the young girl had
concealed the unromantic form of one
of the chairs behind her gauzy but am
pie skirts and was already become a
part of the scene. As Victor assembled
the steps and his eyes met those of
Beatrice, a graceful yet slight movement
of her hand seemed to invite him to a
seat by her side. The chair was still
close to her. She did not move it nor
did Victor as he seated himself. He no
ticed the calm repose with which the
moonlight invested the girls form, save