Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1880-08-05

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The Sister opened the book Of her order
which she had brought with her and began
to read.
THIS young girl had the most charming
face that artist ever dreamed of. Hers was
an 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, 50 delicate and correct were their lines.
TIE Comtesse de San Castelli contem-
plated her with admiration and envy. Sud
denly she exclaimed:
'Are your VOWS eternal 2"
eyes Madame"
"What is your name z"
"Sister Rose de Lima"
''But your family name ?'
''It is forbidden us to reveal it, Mad
anne"
"Why?"
at is the rule Of the order"
Still, you may tell me if you have any
parents l'
'None, Madame"
''Your mother ?"
Il never knew her.
''Your father?"
''He is dead
Wearied with so persistent an investi-
CATION Sister Rose de Lima asked gently if
she would have a little tisane.
''No, thank you, replied the countess,
and then suddenly she added: "'You are
more dead than | 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 silence-dry
bread, prayers and austerity. When en-
tered a salon | used to raise murmur of
admiration as ] passed along. | have made
queens and princesses weep with rage. The
horses pranced at my door and adOrers
crowded my staircase. / have worn on my
brow a diamond that Semiraimus would
have envied, and | have melted more pearls
than Cleopatra. Noise, movement, luxury,
tattery all that have exhausted, with
out departing from an iniexible 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 vanities are
You have had all 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 | 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. | received his last sigh
and his last benedIctiOn. | cultivate that
cherished souvenir like a precious plant,
and | should fear to see it withered outside
of the retreat that have chosen
Nine. de San Castilli interrupted her:
''Vanities, did you say? And what is
life without Its cortege of pleasures? In hu-
man passions there is sometimes mixture
of the gigantic. To be beautiful is to reign.
A cavalier who loved 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 a 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," she said. ''You
blaspheme and pain me-"
= Mime. de San Castelli seemed to reflect
''Nevertheless, l have loved. l have
loved once in my life. was sixteen. What
has become of hlm2 [ was carried away in
the whirlpool of life. But if he were here
my life would be sweeter. Open that casket,
l pray you, Sister. Here are my papers
My certificate of birth-Florence, 10 Oc-
tober-Maria Theodore Dasti"
The Sister advanced slowly toward the
bed, holding out ner hands.
1.-The man whom you loved" she muir
INJURED, 'Fwas named Gabriel %
"Yes," cried the dying woman, "Ga-
briel de Beryls. How do you know that
sit was he who brought me up"
'FYour father 2"
Gabriel de Beryls."
The Countess continued wildly:
''Y0u were born in Italy. He brought
you to France after my treason-and he is
dead -
The poor woman sobbed. Sister Rose de
Lima had fallen on her knees and hidden
her face in her hands. The Countess seized
her and covered her with feverish, passion
ate kisses.
''You did not, then, know who l was
when you came here ?"
'My father never pronounced the name
of Castelli."
''True ; for him was never anything
but Theodore Dasti. But tell me, how
did he die9 What did he say
'He died with one hand in mine and the
other in that of his best friend-an old man
"a priest"
The Countess raised up her daughter.
"You are my redemption" she cried
81 die in peace. Go, fetch me that old
man."
An EDgilsn nrm sold 5000 fire.