The Portland daily press., 1880-10-18

L am glad OF it, say heafllly, Tor 10
not thinK Oscar likes them. He is inclined
to be jealous of you.'
without cause, then, am sure says
Stirling ''She is a lovely little thing to
paint: but | should be sorry to trouble her
lovers peace of mind by even Irritation.
Besides, he continues, with the frank look
in his handsome eyes which first won my
liking, 81 should be loath to do discredit to
your recommendation. You have been
sponsor for my good conduct, you know. L
shall leave here day after tomorrow. | am
in hurry to get home and work hard
am sorry to lose him, and say so. We
have been on several sketching expeditions
together, and have found him most pleas
ant and helpful companion. But still, with
that look in Oscars eyes fresh in my memo
ry, am glad.
The next day, after the sitting is over, he
goes off to the neighboring town for the rest
of the day; and l, feeling ''off-guard," as it
were, sally forth to complete a sketch OF
quaint old house had begun some days be-
fore. l am interested in what am doing,
so that it is late when put up my sketch
ing materials and prepare to stroll home
ward. 1t is market-day in st. Pourcain, SO
1 go through the place to get some flowers,
and also because the gay scene always de-
lights me. The women, in their quaint cos
tunes sitting under their blue, red and
green umbrellas, and with fruit and vegeta-
bles in glorious masses OF color piled up be-
| fore them; the picturesque buildings with
| their queer old carved beams and overhang-
| ing stories and gables, and the gray old
| Norman church-which forms one side OF
| the little square-on the steps of which the
| women deposit their baskets while they go
! in to tell their beads. The market is almost
| deserted when get there; the buyers have
nearly all gone home, and the sellers are be-
| ginning to put up their remaining wares be-
| fore leaving. However, am able TO pro-
| cure my flowers, and am waiting for some
| change, when, looking over toward the
| church, l see group which interests me.
Marthe is standing on the steps beside Stir
ling; she is holding something in her hand
| which he has just given her, and is looking
up at him with such genuine delight writ
| ten on her face that l can read it even at
| this distance. Then she says something to
| him, at the same time putting her hand INTO
his. He raises it laughingly to his lips, and
| in another moment she has turned away
| and is Fastening in the direction of the TrOis
| Etoiles But there has been another specta-
| tor to the scene besides myself, for to my
| CONSERVATION see Oscar emerge from the
| shadow of the church, and follow her quick
"Never mind the change" cry to the
/ uldihct-WOuudu, 1Ou CdA SlFO ~ w ihO w
morrow" for something tells me there will
| be ''scene," and that it will be as well for
me to be at hand But when 1 arrive at the
| Trois Etoiles find that a1u a day after
| the fair-Oscar and Marthe are already hay
ing it out under the lime-tree.
have no pretext for interrupting them,
| so go up to my own room. My window
| stands open, and can both see and hear
| them, for every word reaches me distinctly
| through the still evening air. Round Mar
| the's neck is silver chain and locket hand
| somer than mine, and Oscar is pointing TO
| them angriy. 81 will not have lido you
hear, little traitress?' he cries, passionately.
"You women would sell your souls for bit
| of finery. Take off that horrible necklace
| and give it to me-do you hear? If you are
to be my wife, you shall accept no presents
from fine gentlemen" my poor painter a
| fine gentleman "No! nor yet hire out
| your face to be stared al. Take it OFF, he
repeats.
| But Marthe puts up her hand to her silver
| chain and holds it fast. 81 will not-I will
| notr she says. 'What harm have done?
Monsieur brought me this from Gannat,
| and that is ALL
81 saw him kiss your hand,' cries the in
censed lover: "and you allowed him." and
he utters maledction. He is in fright
full rage, that can hear by his voice; but
| Marthe is angry too, and will not heed the
signs of the coming storm.
| "a pretty thing, truly" she says, "if
am to be watched and suspected like this.
| You have no right to do it. You are notmy
| husband yet, thank heaven!'
| Oscars face darkens. But there is a ter
| rible anxiety in his eyes as he says with an
effort at calmness: ''Then you do not love
| me?''
Marthe routs her full lips but answers
not.
| 'If you love me-" says Oscar, "yeu will
| take off that chain, and give it to me-"
s'No; no. she repeats; sit is mine" The
| child clings to her bit of finery, and will not
| give it up.
"Then you don't love me?' says Oscar
| once more.
''Nop' says Marthe, vehemently stamping
her foot and flushing scarlet. 81 hate you
| hate you-do you hear? And / will never
| marry you-neverp' And with a sudden
the house.
When go down in the morning l find
| she is in bed with headache.
81 do not know what is the matter with
the child" says Madame, unsuspectingly
concocting her tisane, "she is so hot and
| feverish."
'sWhere is Oscar?" I ask.
''He has gone to Gannat to see the con-
| scription drawn" says Madame Petit.
''Poor Mere Gomel! God grant her Rene
| good fortune"
| / am glad that Oscar is out of the way, for
| finding that Marthe is unable to sit to him,
| Stirling makes up his mind to leave by the
| diligence, which passes through st. Pour
| cain in the course of the morning. So that
| bv the time Oscar returns my task OF effect
| ing a reconciliation, will, feel, be compar-
atively easy; and when young Stirling pro-
poses that shall "set him" bit on his
way, and let the diligence pick him up as
| sent with much satisfaction. have not the
heart at the last moment to tell him of the
| mischief his locket has wrought, and we
part with mutual expressions of goodwill
and hopes of meeting again before long; and
1 return to the Trois Etoiles, hoping to
make all things straight between the two
lovers before night. But my hopes are DIES
tined to disappointment, When Il arrive at
the Trois EtOiles, find the courtyard full
of people, all talking at once with French
volubility, while Madame is standing in the
centre of the group crying and exclaiming:
cit is not true; do not believe it,"
''What is it?" ask.
Every one speaks at once; and it is some
| time before am able to arrive at the cause
| of the disturbance, which is this: Madame
| Gomels son has drawn an unlucky num-
| Der, and she has no money to buy substi-
tute. r'Well, that we knew BEFORE" l say.
eyes, Madame. But here is one come
| from Gannat who says that Oscar Petit has
volunteered to go in his place, ands been &C
| cepted."
''No, mop cries Madame; sit is a vile sto-
ryan invention. 1t is impossible that he
could so treat his unhappy mother Is it
not, Madame?" turning with piteous en-
l i,,1 foo fo po
| ''Of course, of course" begin hastily.
But the words die on my lips as l see Oscar
standing in the gateway with stern eyes and
| pale compressed lips.
''My son, my son, say it is not true!'
cries the poor mother rushing toward him.
| But Oscar turns away. Eyes. mother, it
is true" he says; and with low moan,
Madame Petit staggers back and sinks faint
ing into my arms.
| We carry her into the sale, and manage
to send every one away but Oscar and Ba
bette. $50, go, my friends,'I say; 81 will
see what can be done. You have been quar-
relling with Marthe," say angrily to Oscar
I when they are gone; "and so you propose to
| yourself to break your mothers heart-a
| pretty revenge, truly"
Oscar looks rather ashamed of himself,
but says simply: 81 love Marthe too well to