The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1883-01-03

tart speeches with his unvarying thoughtful
ness and politeness.
We parted from him in London, and by
chance met him again some months later in
little French village just outside Of Paris
We Were OF the only inn the place boosted,
quaint, rambling house oyergrown with
ivy, set back from the road where the wine-
carts going to and from the vineyards passed
and repassed
The large wooden-walled chamber, where
rested and read in the warm afternoons
was such pretty place, with the crucifx
above small figure of the Madonna, and
the sun coming through numerous wide,
long windows, making the room half in
shadow, half in light; the only sounds, the
lowing of cattle in distant fields, the coo of
the doves on the caves, and the drowsy whirr
of a spinning wheel in a room below All
was peaceful, still and baliny.
With these fitting surroundings, and in
the presence of the man loved, it was not
strange that my willful loye-dream grew
deeper, though none the less was l deter.
mined in my rehellious heart to crush II and
1--we it down.
wished hundred times day that had
never seen him. I showed him only my
coolest side.
And so the days passed.
One evening l stood looking at the sun
set from window at the end of a long hall
1t was very warm. The leaves of the
creepers around the white lattice were tingod
with amber and crimson the sun was burn
ing in the west; the golden pears hung
motionless among their green leaves the
fragrance of ripened fruit, of damp earth
and late roses came in through the open
window.
/ looked up suddenly and saw Robert
He was quietly watching me with the fixed,
intent gaze had learned to dread, for it
Gconlod TO pierce to the thoughts of my in
nerInost heart.
: anl leaving here Tomorrow" he snid,
in o voice steady but very sad, land
wanted to esk you if you would not remem-
Der mo in kindness. love you, Maudo, but
indeed do not think me presumptuous
enough TO hope for a return. You have
shown me too plainly the indifference you
hold me in. l know you are thinking even
now that it is the heiress, not the woman,
that l love. You wrong me greatly. /
love you for yourself, believe me or not as
you will But say, will you remember me
es a friend ? Win you ut times think kindly
of me2n
| His voice nnd expression, even moro than
his words, impressed me strangely, and with
II new, gonslcr feeling held my hand out to
him Suddenly.
g 1 VIII, said very low.
He kissed il, = little, trembling hand, and
icy cold. 1 felt u sob rising in my throat,
and snatehing it away, walked quickly down
the hall, illunined in the rosy light, to my
room.
Until night fell, sat by the window in e
rapturous, dreamy state. He did love me I
I believed him now; could not doubt that
sincere love looked from those eyes, and TINT
truth spoke in the impressive voice!
determined to wait until tho morning,
and then before his departure ] would tel
him the truth.
Thinking in this strain lighted the little
candle, and after answering Que Of my guar
uiuh 3 AeltcI5 Weut W pett anu eoon eicPt
soundly
The loud ringing of a bell nwoke me, and
a strong gust of smoke in my nostrils /
1 started up and saw all the windows lurid
with fame, and It, rolling clouds Of
smoke coming up through the hot boards.
Gold with fright, and sufrocating, l tried
to gain the door, but halfway from the bed
staggered and fell
could hear the loud voices outside ring
| ing out in excited French. the screams of
women, the roar of the flames among the
dry, cracking TIMBER and above all, the
frantic, camorous ringing of the bell from
! the convent
I tried to rise, but could not, every breath
seemed the last Great, lurid tongues came
through the windows, licking the ceiling and
walls, the floor was giving way, the heal
| grew more intense.
I With the last particle of remaining con-
sciousness drew my body along the floor,
vainiy trying to call. l could net make q
sound my eyes closed, the last hope in my
agonized heart died, my head fell back.
For second this state lasted, then felt,
rather than knew, that the door was pushed
open.
ooh, my child, my love, is it too late ?" l
heard o hoarse voice say, as though fm
away pair Of strong arms lifted mo up
l know no more. u 80
1t was some weeks later when / opened
my eyes on the whitewashed convent walls.
pale-faced nun knelt beside me, praying
softly in the musical French tongue Rob.
ert's face, pallid from watching, was bend.
ing over me, and my goyerness' hand lay
soothingy on my brow.
| Inc red light from the west came IN
through the lattice just as it did that day,
when for the first time, Robert spoke of love
10 me.
I smiled fecbly, for was too weak to
! peak then fell asleep with my hand in bis.
AS soon as 1 was better we turned our
faces homeward longed to get back
| A few months later we were married in
America, quietly, one early morning in
I little, empty church.
1 Roberts right hand, which Leld mine,
vas SCARED from the fire, and as listened to
4 the words of tho minister which bound m.
" Linn ioi me, L ioohtu NohA ttt eh"s h"hut
and thought how the scars there would al
ways be reminder that my life would
henceforth be doubly his, because was CIV
ing it into his care, and because he had
saved it.
Love softened all the hard, bitter points
in my character. By his example he taught
me forbearance and tenderness. In bis love
have forgotten the days when was mot
fayorite Kate a. G0rdtga.
| RICH PUBLIC SrnvAvrs OF DAYS GoSE By
Speaking of some recent appointments
the Hermit" of the Troy Times writes
There has been TOO great disposition to