Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1882-07-06
so strolled down to the village and called at
the good priests dwelling.

When the door was closed and l was LET
alone the hum of voices reached me, and look
ing into the garden saw the priest seated OF
rustic bench near the window. A muttet
figure stood by him, but she leaned against tilt
wall, and could not see her face.
'No, my father &; let him who caused m.
pain partake of it. 1t seems that must die
Well let him see me die Let him know Wha
he has done.''
The book 1 had taken up fell from my hand
This was Eulalie's voice, changed and broken
| but no less sweet and musical.
'sMy child,'' said the priest, 'y6u are wrong
these feelings are sinful; they SAVIOR Of re
venge."
"No, father, not revenge Heaven has
avenged me. The girl for whom he left me i:
dead-cut down in the midst of her triumph
and joy-dead, after only one days illness
How, then, can have thoughts of vengeance
in my heart? And although I, too, die, the
good God has been nerciful to me. l die slow
ly, inch by inch, and not in joy, as she did
No Joy and parted long ago.
'sBut, my daughter, surely for one so neal
the end, thy thoughts are too much engrosseC
by this world. Come to me in confessional
and hear of heavenly things, and put the
thoughts of this marriage behind thee as &
temptation of the enemy"
ooh, father, you mistake me !" cried Eulalie
and there was slight ring of indignation II
her voice. II do no wicked thingin marrying
Antoine. love him. He is come back to me
in sorrow and remorSe, and no one will believe
that have forgiven him if 1 do not become
his wife. If he is my husband he can nurse
and tend me he can come to my bedside and
receive my last prayer, my last word but II L
refuse him I must die away from his presence
and my mother will hate him.
''Say no more, poor child I will marry thee,
if thou wilt"
"Thanks, father. All the formalities the
law demands are done we will come to the
church tomorrow to be united.
She went down the garden with feeble
step. and as she turned to shut the wicket gate
1 caught sight of her face.
Was this the Flower of st. Etiennep Poor
flower how changed and sad, how pale and
broken, since l saw her, but year ago, IA
diant in the JOY of her first love !
"What has happened? % asked the priest,
as he shook me by the hand. "Eulalie is
much altered. She has dying look upon her
face that grieves me exceedingly"
''Her face tells but the melancholy truth,
my dear friend. She goes with the first breath
of autumn she is in a deep decline"
"And how is this, that she is not married
to the blacksmith l overheard your talk
you marry her tomorrow ?"
eyes and am sorry for it. The man looks
upon this marriage as an eXpiation OF his SIN,
and l would not grant him this poor salVe to
his conscience, could help it.'
''But they were to have been married at
the New Year." I cried. 81 cannot under
stand this delay-why is it 20
cat the New Year, Antoine was talking OF
marriage to another maiden. Sit down, and
I will tell you the tale.
"All went we'll with Antoine and Eulalie
till the feast of St. Barbe, last November. At
the little village of st. Barbe, across the hill,
there was a dance on their festival day. An Al
tome went to it; Eulalie did not 60. The
weather was rough, and he persuaded her to
remain at home. Of late, | think, he had
wearied a little of her love, and her calm TEN
per, which never tried him with caprice and
coQuetry.
''There was procession and much extra
service at the Church of st. Barbe on the fes-
tival day. and went there to assist the priest.
So it happened that passed down among the
dancers in the afternoon and observed An
tome dancing vigorously with handsome girl
named Therese Dufresne."
II had ever thonght him a tickle man." l
said interrupting the priests story with a
sigh.
''Fickle and heartless. The dance was but
the beginning of his coquetry with Therese.
A few Sundays more he still appeared by
Eulalie's side in coming home from mass a
few evenings more he waited for her as She
came from vespers then he went over shame
fully to his idol, and all the village knew she
was deserted. She had no pride to bear up.
She sank from that day, making no effort to
hide her grief.
D,,f I'M hi ropC n
tome noticed nothing. lie was at ST. Barbe
every day. He spent all his Sundays and
holidays there. From her window Eulalle Of
ten watched him us he walked whistlng and
carelessly over the hill, swinging in his hand
the flowers he was taking to ThereSe.
'sThere was handsome girl-a thorough
Arlednaise, with dark hair and eyes and ruddy
brown complexion; tall and strong, with All
arm almost as able to WELD hammer us An
toine's own. Moreover, she was wilful in her
temper and capricious, and this suited a man
of Antoine's disposition and character.
GAS he went to St. Barbe he never knew
whether his greeting would be kind or cruel.
If she had parted with him with a kiss on one
day, she might meet him with frown and a
hard word on the next. And so, in spite of
the many quarrels, she kept the tickle man
faithful, far more enthralled by her coarse
beauty and hard capriccs than ever he had
been by the perfect love and loveliness of
Eulalie.
cat length he told in triumph that he had
won her consent to wed him, and he wore at
his forge a more joyous face, whistling and
singing as he handled his work and sent forth
the sparks merrily into the little street.
''Eulalie would not believe the news. She
could not, would not deem him so cruel and
heartless. Up to this time she had perhaps
nursed some foolish hopes some thought that
he would leave his tickle fancy and come back
to her. And when her mother told the tale
of his approaching marriage, she shook her
head and said she would only believe it from
his own lips.
''She went down to the forge where the
hammer sounded herrily Oh the anvil and the
sparks flew, and the laughter and jest of rude
health helped the work, and added to the noisy
music. There, unnoticed, she leaned for
moment against the doorsill, watching the
brawny arms and handsome face of her false
lover, as in the pride of his strength he welded
and moulded the glowing iron on his anvil
He, careless in the enjoyment of his coarse
health. and happy in his tickle love, and she
pale, broken-hearted and dying-dying fol
him There she stood at his door unregard'
ed-she who had wasted health and love and
life on him; while he trilled Il rollcking ditty
with amorous lips and the glow of the fire
warm on his ruddy cheek. But suddenly he
turned his light hazel eyes on her, the sheen
of the flames in them, and a touch of Shame
came over him.
Ma'amselle Eulalie, he said, 'can dc
anything for you?'
''I am come, gasped the girl, mot in anger,
Antoine, but only to hear the truth from youl
own lips. Is it true that you marry Therest
Dufresne next week -
''lIer face turned ashy pale as she spoke
and she grasped the doorsill with feeble hands
to support herself. Antoine was embarrassed