The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1883-09-06

ended as well as a fairy tale if you had
been reasonable. 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 suspi-
cions until she dreaded those secret
meetings almost as much as she longed
| for them. At last, after making more
violent quarrel than usual, you exchang-
ed from your regiment at Versailles to
one in Algiers, and left her no refuge
from the reproaches of our father and
mother but to marry NJ. de Miramon.
He might have refused to marry her af-
| ter hearing her confess, as she did, that
she had given her heart tc you, and
that only YOUR desertion had induced
her to consent to their marriage. But
| he did not, he had o better revenge
than that. He married her, and for
| eight years he tortured her in every
| way that Jealous and cruel man can
| torment 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 with
in few months of the marriage, and l
was at the convent. There was moth
ING to be done with her misery but en-
dure 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.
81 loved her always" he says,
almost inaudibly; then pauses; nor does
he finish his sentence, though she waits
for him to do so.
You loved 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 goodr' continues Lucille tiercely.
"Since that time Jeanne has been at
peace, aud 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 l tell you whyf'
She can see his lips quiver even un-
der 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 st her
dumbly for an instant; then, rising, ab-
ruptly walks away.
III des beaux yeux mon Dieu!'
she thinks, with thrill of wonder that
Jeanne should have had the courage to
refuse him anything when they were
young together.
He comes back presently.
my child" he says, very gently,
''do not try to make me believe that,
unless you are very sure. for if l once
believe it again, IL"
II am as sure as that / 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-"
| "Ip Youp You are laughing at
me!'' with rush of color into his dark
face.
''Do you think so i'll of Jeanne's Sis
terp" she asks softly.
pardon. 1 am scarcely yself, and
I cannot 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 high
ly. But you are wealthy, distinguish
ed, the head of your name-a very diff
erent person from what you were ten
years ago, and she can find no reason
for refusing you as my suitor if con-
sent, and rs my chaperon she must be
present at all our meetings. You begin
to understand Make her see that your
love is not all jealousy; make her re-
member-make her rogret."
''But, forgive me, when one has lov-
| ed 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, / should
never have proposed my plot" she re-
plies with dignity. 'It is because 1
have watched you all these weeks and
know that your love is worthy of my
sister that trust you. But it is not
Enfin, it is with you to consent or de-
| cline"
''Decliner' 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?'
| The next week is full of bitter sur
prises to the proud and patient woman,
whose pathetic cling to her new found
peace Lucille so well understands.
Though it is long since she has permit
| ted herself to remember anything of
| the lover of her youth except his jeal-
ousy, she has believed in his faithful
ness as utterly as she dreamed it, and
when she receives De Pallissier's note
| asking the consent of his old friend to
his love for her sister, the pain she feels
bewilders and dismays her. With a
smile whose cynicism is as much for
herself as for him, she gives the note to
Lucille expecting an instant rejection of
the man whose motives in pursuing
them they had both so misunderstood.
But with gay laugh, ''Then my SYM
pathy has been all without cause" the
girl cries. 'By all means let him come,
my Jeanne. 1t cannot wound you who
have long ago ceased to regret him, and
he is the best parti in Paris, and tres
| bel homnle for his age"
1t is quite true there can be no objec-
| ton to the wealthy and distinguished
Marquis de Plaissier if Lucille is willing
none but the pain at her heart which
| she is too ashamed even to confess to
| herself. So note is written fixing an
hour for his first visit, and Nine. de
Miramon prepares herself to meet the
man whom she last saw alone in all the
passionate anguish of lovers quarrel.
Is this wild fiutter in her throat sign
of the peace she has resolved to possess?
| Thank God! she can at least promise
herself that whatever she may suffer,
neither he nor Lucille shall guess it.
There is the sound of wheels in the
courtyard, and she rises with hasty
| glance at her fair reflection in the mir
ror.
..His old friendr' she murmurs scorn-
fully. II dare say look an old woman