Litchfield enquirer., 1881-01-20

tssCcu .uuutcTS Ou WulI6 nOTSeS sWOuiui COule riding forward, dogs would run among the trees, peacocks would wave their once shining tails in the light. ''iJ as''s'.f Frank, as he had told Marguerite, was no superstitious. He glanced once round the room, and then pulling up 8 great chair in front of the fire, sat down and thought about that sad white face, those dear wistfuI eyes that seemed to be forever asking the same question that once had made it's way into words, You love me?-a question .which, it seemed to him, he had never been allowed to answer properly. Could she doubt hirn2 Was that why she looKed so sad2 Had she consented to this match for any reason but to please herself-any idea of duty to her falni- ly? He promised himself to have aii made clear to- morrow ,; -r.s@- f....s s.,I..ft.re e.e made him turn his head and look round the room again: seeing nothing, he supposed tht re must be rats behind the waiHscot, and return ed to the fire and his meditations.i9 At the far corner of the room there was door opening into dressing room, winch again ,communi7 cated with the passages. Frank, full of other thoughts, had not, noticed this entrance and now he was all aware that a hand was pushing the dressing room door, and that eyes were peeping at him from behind it. Footsteps on the boards of hisroom, however, with the slight tap of 8 stick, slowly approach ing him, made him spring from his chair in real surprise. Standing by the table, on which Francois had arranged the materials for eau sueree, wasa smallelderly lady, dressed in black, with fair sharp face, 8 suspicious expression, and a quantity, of white hair rolled up high over cushion. She wore long gloves, and carried cane in her hand. Frank stared at her in speeches. surprise.
 l am not ghost, monsieur. and you have seen me before, she said Her voice had a sort of disagreeable snap in it. ,.-.,... .......
 Frank recognized the old aunt who had looked out of her window that snowy mOrn- ing and had told, him to take care what he was doing. He bowed politely. ..... , ..... ag
 Pardon me, madame. remember you very we'll, he said. Can do anything for you P 1 B.. a l.'r"
 Nothing at all, she said, with slight toss of her head. I am come here to do you 8 kindness. Give me chair. Is it true that you are to marry my niece, Mademoiselle de Saint Flor?' .- .... - .g3 r.
 She sat down, placed her feet on footstool, and looked at him magisterially. Frank thought she was probably mad He stood opposite to her at the further end of the table, and an- swered her very meekly. '-.. ".sey- .se-'.
 Yes, madame, am to have that honor.' 7
 I suspected it from the moment saw you in the gardeu, and since then l have heard all about it. My brother was obliged to tell me. He can never keep secret, poor man. suppose he thought had forgotten the past, or that should never venture te interfere again. But no, would not sit in my tower and see fine young man sacrificed. Did you ever hear of Gregoire de la Masselere? ....
 No said Frank, as she waited for an an- swer
 'Ah, I thought not Or of Jules de Mar igny?' -. . H na
 No .,.........t ,...,
 Or of my son, Leon de Maupas and his brother Celestin?'~ e
 No, madame -... sle. a..
 Very we'll Listen, and will tell you little history about these four young men. It is more than nine years since the war. In those days 1 and my two sons lived here in this house, and my brother and his wife and those children of his were miserably poor peo- pie living at Tours. Out of kindness to my brother 1 arranged that my elder son, the Comte de Maupas, should marry that girl Marguerite. though never cared for her-to my eyes she always had misfortune written CD her face. But my son admired her, and he was willing enough. She was mere child then. Well, they were betrothed, and then the war broke out. and my son Leon went straight to the front and was killed in the first OaClle. DO you un0erSCanQE'
 Perfectly, madame said Frank grave
 The story improves as it goes on. After that, in the winter, we arranged that my second son. .Celestin, should marry Mar guerite. l did it all out of kindness to my brother, remember. Celestin also was in the army He was killed in the spring in the last battle.'
 Frank could not restrain slight shiver. There was something quite awful in the Con- tesse's sharp voice, her cold eyes, her air of repressed excitement, with quick nervous lit- tie movements of her two thin hands,
 After that, she said, you would have thought, perhaps, they might have have had the decency to send the girl to convent. But no she must make a good match in spite of everything. They waited only two years, and then they arranged marriage for her with Jules de Marigny. He looked as strong and handsome as yourself. But 1 knew he would not live-why should he, when my sons died ? A week before the marriage he was out shooting, and he shot himself by &C., cideDt-accident .-... .
 Madame de Maupas raised her voice almost to a scream and ended this part of her story with little shrill laugh, which made Frank feel colder than ever.
 Good, she said, going on more quietly. Now we come to the fourth, to Gregoire de la Masseliere. It was only three years ago. for, let me tell you, people talked about all this, and saw plainly that it would be tempt ing fate to all thems .lv.s with such an unlucky young person. But this worthy man had been abroad for some years in the coonies-I don't know where. He came home to find wife. He had plenty of money and some brains. He saw Marguerite, and proposed for her at fo hnr fofh nf h6ax 0nElf ed, they were only too glad He came to this house, where my dear relations were living with melt is my house, monsieur, and not my brothers at all-and they lodged him in this very room. l never see visitors Since my great griefs have avoided all strangers, have lived alone, as you know, though under the same roof with those others. Well, saw the good fat man stumping about in the gar- den one summer evening" looking so prosper. ous and contented that felt sincerely sor- ry for him. Why should this poor creature die too i? said to myself. knew very well that Marguerite's history would not be told to him, unless told it. made up my mind to save him, if he chose to be saved. I came to him in the night, as come to you dow. My dear monsieur, terrified that poor sEeep 80 utterly out of his senses that he fed from Maupas the next morning, and wrote from Paris to my brother to say that he had chang ed his mind about marrying. Heavens, how I laughed when the baron came to me with the letter in his hand.! .i16,sL ga
 Frank listened with the deepest attention to all this. The history of M. de Ia Masseliere seemed to do him good; for when it was fn- shed he was smiling quite comfortably
 We'll? said Madame de Maupas, looking at him hard.
 'MadameY s..
 Well, have you been listening? Do you understand meT
 Il have listened to every word ; but you must excuse me if cannot feel sure of your object
 My objectl I had no idea Englishmen were 30 dull. To save you of course, as saved Gregoire de la Masseliere' .8 m
 You really hope, madame. to find me such a dastardly coward as M. de la Masseliere- that poor sheep, as-you justly called him Englishmen are dull no doubt. They don't understand being expected to behave; dishon- orably. .'< tE' @lH'f 4s"