Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1883-09-13

my sister than for you" she says grave
ly.
''Your sisterr' he echoes, bitterly.
| cit has not occurred to me that Mime.
! de Miramon is in need of compassion.
and yours is too sweet to be wasted-''
''Chut, monsieur" she interrupted.
Forget that 1 am as fond of pretty
! speeches as most young women. and
think of me only as Jeanne de Mira
mons sister, who believes that much as
she loves. her, you love her even
more
For the second time this evening De
Palissier forgets possible observers, and
clasps both the girls slender hands in
his, as he murmurs unsteadily, ''God
bless your
''You forget that we have an audience,
monsieur, she says, Withdrawing her
hands quickly, but with smile of frank
cOmradeship. 81 have a story to tell
you, and not much time to tell it in.
Years ago, when Jeanne left her con-
vent on becoming fiancee to NJ. de Mira
mon, she met you at her first ball, and
| you loved each other. 1t was very fool
! ish, for you were a cadet of your house,
and only SOus-Lieutenant, and Jeanne
had not sou, so both the families were
furious; but all would have ended as
well as a fairy tale if you had been rea-
sonable. Jeanne met you time after
| time in secret, and promised any amount
Of patience, but she would not run away
and marry you in defiance of her parents;
so you tormented her with doubts, and
| shamed her with suspicious until she
! dreaded those secret meetings almost as
much as she lOnged for them. At last,
| after making a more violent quarrel
| than usual, you exchanged from your
regiment at Versailles to one in Algiers,
and left her no refuge from the re-
! prOaches of our father and mother but
to marry M. de MiramOn. He might
have refused to marry her after hearing
! her confess, as she did, that she had
| given her heart to you, and that only
! your desertion had induced her to con
sent to their marriage. But he did not;
he had better revenge than that. He
married her, and for eight years he tor
tured her in every way that a jealous
and cruel man can torment a proud,
| pure woman. He opened all her letters,
he made spies of her servants, and not
! day passed that he did not insult her
with some mention of your name. Our
parents died within a few months of the
|
There was nothing to be done with her
misery but endure it, knowing that she
owed it all to your impatience. Can
you wonder that she is unfOrgiving?'
He is leaning on the small table be-
tween them with folded arms and down
bent eyes, and he is very pale, even
through the bronze of ten African sum-
merS.
Il loved her always" he says, al
most inaudibly; then pauses; nor does
he finish his sentence, though she waits
for him to do so.
''You love her? You could not have
wrecked her life more utterly if you
had hated her. Can you wonder that
she has grown to fear the thought of
! love that has been so cruel to her as
yours and her husbands? Monsieur,
my brother-in-law died two years ago
! God is so goOd!' continues Lucille,
| fiercely. ''Since then Jeanne has been
at peace, and she shrinks with absolute
terror from disturbing the calm which
| has come to her after such storms. She
fears you, she avoids you, because
shall 1 tell you why?"
She can see his lips culver even under
the heavy mustache, but he neither
speaks nor raises his eyes.
"She loves you," murmurs Lucille,
| just aloud.
He lifts his eyes now and looks at her
dumbly for an instant; then, rising, alb
ruptly walks away.
He comes back presently.
''My child he says, very gently, edo
not try to make me believe that, unless
you are very sure, for if 1 once believe
it again, IL"
II am as sure as that I live that
Jeanne has never ceased to love you,
and that you can force her to confess it
if you will make love to me-"
81? You? You are laughing at me!''
with rush of color into his dark face.
''DO you think so i'll of Jeanne's sis
ter?" she asked, softly.
Pardon. l am scarcely myself, and
I can not imagine how"
Jeanne will not receive you because
she knows her own heart and is afraid
of it. She fears that you will destroy
the hard-won peace she values so highly.
But you are wealthy, distinguished, the
head of your name-a very different
! person from what you were ten years ago,
and she can find no reason for refusing
you rs my sutton if l consent, and as my
chaperon she must be present at all our
! meetings.. LOU DeSln 10 understand?
Make her see that your love is not all
| jealousy; make her remember-make
her regret"
But, forgive me, when one has loved
a woman for ten years." with faint
smile, ''there is no room in ones heart
for even pretense at loving another"
''If there were, monsieur. 1 should
never have proposed my plot" she re-
plies, with dignity. 1T is because 1
have watched you all these weeks and
know that your love is worthy of my
sister that 1 trust you. But it is not
with ones heart that one pretends. En-
fin, it is with you to consent or decline. "
''Declinen' he echoes, with passion
none the less intense for its quietness,
''Does a dying man decline his last
chance of life, however desperate it may
be?''
|