The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1880-08-05

This young girl had the most charming
face that artist ever dreamed of. Hers was
al improbable beauty, shining forth with
sweetness and holiness. The white band
that confined her pure ivory brow hid her
hair, leaving visible only her eyebrows,
which might have been traced with Indian
ink, 80 delicate and correct were their lines.
The Comtcssc dc Sun Castcli contem-
plated her with admiration and euvy. Sud-
denly she exclaimed:
Are your VOWS eternal ?"
eyes, Madame"
"What is your name 2"
''Sister Rose dc Lima"
"But your family name p
cit is forbidden us to reveal il, Mad
ame."
"Why2"
cit is the rule Of the ORDER"
parents ~
''None, Madame
"Your mothcr?"
81 never knew her."
"Your father2"
Gle is dead"
Wcaried with so persistent an invcsti-
CATION Sister Rose dc Lima asked gently if
she would have little tisane.
''No, thank you," replied the countess.
and then suddenly she added: s.You are
more dead than l am, young girl To-
morrow, perhaps. spadeful of earth will
bury even my memory, but have had of
life all that life can give. You will only
have known walls, bars and sience-dry
bread, prayers and austerity. When Ell
tered salon l used to raise murmur of
admiration as passed along. I have made
queens and princesses weep with rage. The
horses pranced at my door and adorers
crowded my staircase. l have worn on nv
brow q diamond that Semiraimus would
have envied and have melted more pearls
than Cleopatra. Noise, movement, luxury,
iattcry; all that l have exhausted, with
out departing from an inflcXiblc motto
Shine, seduce, and love not Poor young
girl, you might have all that If you
wished"
The Sister of Charity rose:
"What are you talking about, Madame?
DO you not see what these vanitics are
You have had ali that, and | am happier
than you are. If had need of consolation,
the history of Mary, the sister of Martha,
would suffice. For me contemplative life
has replaced an active life. In the DEPTHS
of my solitude love to lose myself in mute
alteration, and l forget the world that
passes in view of the world which does not
pass.'
The voice of the young nun had assumed
a sorority full of enthusiasm.
"Just now," she added, "you spoke to
me Of my father. I received his last sigh
and his last bencdlction. I cultivate that
cherished souvenir like a precious plant.
and should fear to see it withered outside
Of the retreat that I have chosen
Nine. dc San Castili interrupted her:
"Vanities, did you say9 And what is
life without Its cortege Of pleasures? In hu-
man passions there is sometimes a mixture
of the gigantic. TO be beautiful is to reign.
A cavalier who lcved me killed himself at
my feet; he gave ME there what he would
have given to no other. have been adored
like goddess of antiquity. To make ones
self the rival of God is something high and
terrible. Little as our life is, it is enlarged
by pleasures, and takes peculiar Import
ance by the profuslon of our disdains and
the number Of our victims!"
Sister Rose de Lima placed her hands on
the Countess lips as if to arrest her words.
"You are feverish," che said. "You
basphcme and pain no."
u Nine dc San Castcli seemed to reflect.
"Ncvcrtheless, l have loved. l have
loved once In my life. was sixteen. What
has become of hlm7 [ was carried away in
the whirlpool of life. But If he were here
my life would be swceter. Open that caskct,
| pray you, Sister. Here are my papers
My certificate OF birth-Florcnce, 10 Oc-
tober-NIaria Theodore Dast."
The Sister advanced slowly toward the
bed, holding out ner hands.
''fhc man whom you loved" she muir
INJURED, "was named Gabriel 2"
Yes cried the dying woman, "Ga.
briel dc Beryls. How do you know that
ut was he who brought me up"
"Your fathcr2"
"Gabricl de Bcryls."
The Countess continued wildly:
"You were born in Italy. lie brought
you to France after my treason--and hc is
dead -
The poor woman soDbcd. Sister Rose de
Lima had fallen on her knees and hidden
her face III her hands. The Countess seized
her and covered her with fcverish. passion
ate kisses.
"You did not, then, know who | was
when you came here2"
"My father never pronounced the name
of Castclli"
"rruc for him was never anything
but Theodore DasLi. But tell me, how
did he die What did he say2"
"Hc died with one hand in mine and the
other In that of his best fricnd-an old man
"a priest"
The Countess raised up her daughter.
lyon arc my redemption" she cried
II die in peace. Go, fetch me that old
, man,"
An EDgiisn nrin s0lu 5000 fire.