The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1882-03-03

coAgruIIy, 1t seemed to accord so Ill with
the grace and elegance that still inn
pressed his mind. How much more at
home, he thought, she would look in
Eaton Square or in the spacious rooms
at the Embassy And uncopscionsly he
breathed hope that Mademoiselle de
la Penthlere might be like her. Three
more lessons-the calculation CANA nat
urally to him-three more lessons she
had said, would make him perfect.
Wherever he went during the next
three days, to park, dinner or ball. the
Vicomte could not avoid comparing all
the ladies whom he met with his dane
ing mistress and, when the last occasion
actually came on which he was to see
her, his eeys were open to the fact that
he was In love-he, Frenchman, man
of the world, 30 years old, and ready to
range himself, was positively In love
So at the last lesson this little scene
brought itself to pass. The pupil had
taken his final turn with his teacher.
and she had pronounced that only prac.
tice was needed to give him the smooth
ness Of the perfect waltzer.
81 must bid you adieu, then ?" said
he softly, taking her hand instead of
making the low bow that, as teacher of
department., she could have exacted.
Yes, monsieur / am certain that
you will not forget the STEP"
Forget it, Adrienne An, could |
ever forget it ?" And the Yicomte caught
her in his arms and kissed her.
The result was quite contrary to his
expectations. First, she boxed his ears
soundly, orrather one of them, and then
burst into tears, which, whether caused
by rage or confusion, were certainly sin
cere and more effective.
The Vicomte flung himself on his
knees and set himself fervently to pae-
ify her and put things on proper foot
ing. But madenioiselle was MORALLY
offended. Never had he known such an
offense regarded so severely. She was
inconsolable !; and she was silent save
for sobs.
At last sue suddenly made for the
door, and Monsieur lie Vicomte, his
future bride, the event of the coming
Wednesday, and the wrath of the fami-
lies forgotten, in an ecstasy of repent
ance implored her to marry him, to be
his wife.
Monsieur" replied she with dignity,
stopping hort, "you forget that you
are to marry another!"
"But, Adnenne, my darling, listen
| love only you"
"And what of your mother and the
Marquis de la Penthiere? p
&C. am thinking only of you r cried
he in tone of despair, as the indigna-
ton Of these persons occurred to him.
"Nay, Monsieur, I will not suffer this
madness. You have insulted me, but I
will not exact such punishment. Hear
me. On one condition I will forgive
you.
"Whatever it be, I will win your par
DON"
81 take you at your word. You will,
before you n1arry--nay, at your first
meeting with Mile. de Ia Penthiere-
tell her Of your recent misconduct. You
have wronged her as much as myself.
81 have promised, Mile. Adrienne," "
he cried, with groan. "But what Of
you?"
"Of me?'' said she proudly, bowling
low. 81 pardon you. Adieu, Monsieur!"
And, before the young man could again
interpose, she disappeared, the door
closed behind her, and he was left alone
in the unfinished salon.
"Well, I am fool |" he soliloquized,
as he picked his way through Golden
Square and Beak street. "Pd have
married her, though what madame my
mother would have said I don't know,
and, as to Mademoiselle de la Penthiere,
how I shall tell her I don't know. But
I've promised, and the Carmignols keep
their word," he added with a groan, as
he remembered how few minutes ear
lier he had offered to break his most
solemn engagement
Even at the French Embassy, that
stately building which, fanking the
Albert Gate, induces country cousins to
ask what it is, great ball is heralded
by some slight but perceptible prepare
tions but these were little apparent as
the Vicomte was ushered up the spacious
staircase to the smallest drawing-room
Here the Marquis de la Penthiere re-
ceived him very cordially; for they were
old friends, as far as men of different
ages can be, and the Marquis had i'm
bibed sufficient English pfejudices not
to have handed over his daughter to the
most unexceptionable p0rtj had not he
felt sure that the man himself was one
likely to make her happy.
He was an indulgent sather, and she
had been allowed much more liberty
than French girls generally enjoy be-
fore marriage. Possibly, therefore, she
was not quite SO resigned to her fate as
those around her supposed; but she
gave no sign of discomfort, and perhaps
was waiting to see her future husband
before she decided to oppose her fathers
wishes. More probably she looked on
the union as matter of course.
Mademoiselle de la Penthiere bowed
low in answer to the Vicomte's reveren-
tial salutation but, with the modesty
of young French girl, she shaded her
face from his eyes with her large orient
al fan, so that in the gathering dusk he
could not at once determine what she
was like; save that she was elegant,
graceful and very beautifully dressed.
After few phrases of cordial court
esy, the Marquis glided from the room
"a proceeding not at all in accordance
with strict French etiquette-and the
two were left together.
Then the Vicomte knew that his time
was come. It might be that he would
not see her alone again until their mar
riage; and he had promised "her" that
she should be told of his recent strange
forgetfulness. He drew deep sigh
this was worse than cutting-out ex-
petition then he braced himself up,
and, after requesting permission to tell
her something that was little disa-
greeable, but which be would make as
short as possible. he received a gracious
acquiescence, and, plunglng IN moedio8
res, he told her all in as shamefaced a
way as Frenchman could.
But Monsieur lie Viconte, do you
-this-woman? said the aristocrat-
ic beauty, in cold tones, from behind her
fan, when he had told his story and made
some sort Of an apology.
:" Mademoiselle, I do love her but,
when have known your charming vir-
tues for short time, poQf, they will
drive away her memory What chance
shall l. who am SO s1IsceDtihIe have in