The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1883-06-02

H0W can L do that Can L go an(
tell the Baron that [ feel sure Jean doe
not love him, and is only marrying him be
cause of her fathers stupid promise, an(
some absurd nonsense about the famil,
honor? Don't her very actions give m,
words the lie direct? Didn't I tell it al
to old Haviland, and much good did it do
He smiled at me as blandly as possible, ant
asked me if | came of Miss D'Orsay's re
quest. Of course, 1 was obliged to say No
Then he smiled more blandly than before
and said, "When Miss D'Orsay comes t.
me with the same petition, I will conside
it. Was there anything left for me to do
but to take myself off, after that ?"
No, had to agree with him; there wa
nothing else left to do.
"Now listen," continued Denis. 'Yol
are fond of me, you know, and it will con
sequently give you pleasure to do Inc ;
good turn. Jean will not see me, and
must see her before the 18th. Won't yol
get her here next Sunday afternoon, ant
then let me come in quite by accident
You will, won't you?
"Denis Durant," | said solemnly, "sinc'
you were curly-headed boy, have neve
refused you anything it was in my powe
to grant Am l likely to do so now
Yes, you shall have one more chance. !
will ask Jean to come. And now be off
my six young ladies will be here in less thai
ten minutes, and [ shall lose my reputation
as a stern instructor, if they catch sight o
your handsome face"
"Pass me off as your model, said ht
impudently; then, coming back and putting
his yellow head down caressingly: "Yor
will make her come, Octavia p
Eyes, yes" [ answered, touching hi
bright locks, 'do not fear; you shall SCI
her once more.
This was Wednesday, the 9th of June
in ten days Jean was to be married.
wrote her note asking her to come to me
on Sunday. She sent me word she would
be with me at five o'clock in the afternoon
at six, Baron Won Stock would call to take
her to dine at his sisters, where his rela-
tions were to meet her for the first time
collectively.
Sunday came, one of those suddenl y in
tensely warm days, foretaste of what July
and August would prove. After my rather
tardy luncheon, | drew the old chintz couch
across the broad window, placed my low
chair near, closed the Venetian blinds, and
waited for my lovers.
Denis came first, putting in his head
cautiously, and then advancing eagerly
when he saw | was alone.
"Will she come, Octavia? Am I too
late ?''
''She will come," | answered, and even
as [ made reply heard her step upon the
stairs Denis drew back into the window
a moment, and then the door was slowly
opened and Jean came in She walked
down the long room, and we two watched
her as she came She was already dressed
for dinner, in a long, soft, white silk, made
very simply, with some rich, old lace at the
throat, and short, hanging sleeves. Her
breast-knot was Of her favorite dark Rus
sian violets; her wavy, brown hair, knotted
in some old-fashioned style upon the top of
her proud little head, and held there by a
quaint silver comb; in her hands she car
ried her white fan and her long, white silk
mittens. Save for the deep blue of the
violets, there was not a ray of color about
her, and her face was as white as her gown.
[ put out my hands to her as she drew
near me; she took them in hers, and, bend
ing, kissed me twice. "You dear Octavia, ~
she said, chow cool and calm and happy
you look here. | never come that it does
not do me good, and yet l always leave
with heartache Are you glad to see me,
Octavia?"
"My little Jean, I am very glad. You
do not come so often now, my dear, and |
miss you very much"
''It is not my fault that keeps me away,
Octavia,' she said, using one of her foreign
idioms, "but my weakness. / dare not
come, for every time / do, my courage
wakes fainter You and the old studio are
so full of pleasant, dear memories, and
of-him."
"Jean, Jean, my darlingp' cried Denis,
coming forth from his hiding and taking
both her hands in his.
care you here?" she cried. Then be-
ginning to tremble little, and in low
voice, with now and then a sob "Oh,
Denis, you should not Octavia, why did
you let him come? Oh, my dear, dear
Denis !"
1t was all very, very sad. Jean stood
there in her white cleaning dress, sobbing,
with Denis holding her hands in his, en-
treating her in passionate tones to listen to
the love in both their hearts.
II cannot she said family. "Oh,
Denis, [ cannot"
''Then you do not love me-" cried he,
hotly.
Glove you," she answered "Ah, you
do not know how love you. I love you
more earnestly, more deeply, than it is pos
sible for you to understand. But, oh
can't you see it it is not my promise
must keep, it is my fathers 1t will not
greatly matter if my heart is broken" she
added, little wildly, $50 our honor is kept
clean"
For few moments there was silence,
then from out the gloom, far down the
long studio, came a voice:
"Jean, mein liebling, art thou ready for
me? Pardon, madame, that I intrude my
self upon you"
Baron Won Stock walked in our midst,
and there was Jean, crying, and Denis hold
ing both her hands.
''But what is this? continued the Ba-
ron, turning his kind face from one to an
other. "Jean in tears! And you, sir, 5"
TO Denis, "for what reason do you SO hold
Miss D'Orsay's hands?"
"For what reason?' cried Denis, glad
to speak to some one in his excitement