Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1882-03-03

it's wrinkles. She cries aloud: why
not-why not?"
Poor foolish old woman! How could
you get in there? All at once a hest of
difficulties rise before her. Between her
dead alley and that brilliant as sembly up
on which the eyes of all France will be
fixed in short time, she sees as in mist
impossible barriers, crevasses as Of an
earthquake, walls of granite, fiery dragons
at the gate OF the sanctuary, obstacles
against which poor, weak creatures like
her might dash themselves in vain.
SO much the worse; she wants to see
him; she will see him again, should it. be
only for minute. She gets up, for she
cannot sit quiet any more-she must walk
up and down. And Princesse, who rolls
upoN the floor without the least i'd ca. OF
what causes this sudden Indifference on
the part of her mistress, runs under the
bed with a plaintiff new. Mechanically
she opens her 0r41aoire to take out her
shawl and her wooden neckerchief. E,ut
she pauses, stricken dumb, as she sees the
door opening and her husband standing at
the threshold.
"1Sens! already!"
''Isnt it the right time2'
Noon strikes. She feels a rush of
shame as if he had caught her in some bad
action; and she rushes to the kitchen to
hide her bushes.
Nothing ready yet round this old
shop?" thunders Firmin. commencing one
of his ill-humors.
She stammers, more confused than ever;
stuffs whole shevelfuls of coal into the
stove; blows with ali the force of her LUNGS
upon the fire which refuses to draw. BE-
fore one can say ''Amen,' her stew is
ready with bit of rabbit and the cold DO
tatoes of last nights supper. Quickly,
while the kettle sings and the man drums
upon the window-pane, chewing the end
OF a cigar, she gets out the big coarse
plates with vignettes stamped upon them.
glass and tin dish cover. She arrang-
es everything on the end of the table, after
wiping off the oil cloth hastily with her
apron. In turn of the hand, everything
shines and smokes. The mans anger
Gains down.
Now, seated before an uncorked Iitre Of
wine and a dishful of stew. he eats leis-
urely, with lazy hand holding his knife
IN the air-with that peculiar Iassitude of
the laborer, that attitude of d beast of
burden whose only respite from daily toll
Is the hour Of the repast. But, while he.
brushes the breadcrust between his teeth
with the slowness of some Illuminating an.
imal, the needle of the clockdial moves
rapidly. Elk cited and feverish, Madame
Flrmln seems to have burning Goals under
her feet. She would like to pour the whole
litre Of wine down his throat at once, and
push him out Of doors. In that aftermath
of her youth like some Of those late fruits
which obtain their primitive SAVIOR again
under beam of sunlight-she feels all the
anguish of other days come back upon her
just as when LoulOu used to be waiting
for her at the corner of a street, and she,
knew that she would be nailed down for
the whole evening to the thankless task Of
mending her aunt s collarettes.
"And what are you doing over there
you? amt you going to eat?'
That hoarse basso made her start.
II am not hungry she replied.
For more than ten minutes at least she
her brains, trying to find some
roundabout way, some off-hand method Of
turning the conversation 50 that she can
ask question without exciting suspicion
But she cannot find any; and every time.
she is on the poiut of opening her lips
there is such a pulsation in her temples
that her sight grows dim. See here! She
has had time enough all these years to
lose her little powers of cunning. She is
very awkward at lying and very innocent
in her tricks. She is now transported back
to the maidenhood of her forgotten i'm
pressions-to condition which leaves her
as innocent and awkward as ever.
AT last When ne gets up and reGghts his
cigar, she resolutely plucks up all her cour-
age, ard asks him straightforwardly, in a
calm voice, as she removes the plates:
''By the way, Firmin, where is the Acad-
emy?'
''The Academy? what an idea! What
difference does it make to you where it
is?n
sob, nothing! 1 was just curious to
kn ow."
"Porbleu !-it's the deuce of way on
over that way-near the Seine, right op-
oosite the Badlnguet building-a big thing
with a dome on it.''
"Ah!-so that's the Academy?''
She had always thought it was the Prot |
,stant church.
Scarcely has he closed the door, when
The PUSHES to press her ear to the keyhole,
n order to make sure that he is not com
ng back. Then when the sound of his
footsteps die away on the stairs, she
makes one bound to the peg where her
hings are hanging, just as she left them
n the emotion of her surprise. Now radi-
INT with happiness, her heart palpitating
With Impotence, she throws her fchu over
Ter head, smooths down her hair so as to
rame her face as nicely as possible-the
asst coquetry of a woman refusing to alb
licate her womanliness in a moment of
esurrected love. All of sudden her sex
asserted itself with all it's laws. But at
he moment that she approaches the piece
II glass which serves her as a mirror, she
tarts back seized with fear; her womanly
nstinctscrles out "Beware.'' The looking
lass is an enemy! She wishes to carry
tut to the end the Illusion Of the spring
line of her life; and there she is tremb-
ing with fear of being slapped in the face
" the silent irony Of that piece of broken
lass. Would 1t reflect the rosy cheek of
'risette now? ........ Woe to her! Al
he mere fancy she runs from the room.
.I.o L