The Arkansaw traveler. (Little Rock, Ark.) 1882-1???, 1883-09-29

to the ponderous gate and threw it wide
open. AT the same moment the brilliant
equipage arrived: the ceachmAn pulled
together his noble steeds, and without
Stacking their gallop. they shot like An
arrow past Marva, and ten steps further
on stood stock-still at the foot of the
steps. Dazed, her heart thrilled by she
knew not what impression of fear and
| Joy, she received full in the face the gaze
Of two large black amazed and amused
eyes.
How like his motherw thought
Ma vra, as she closed the huge gate that
shut with a heavy bang.
She turned slowly toward the steps as
Serge, jumping down from the carriage
looked round at her again. He smiled
when he met her blue eyes full OF simple
admiration, and, giving her friendly
ned, entered the house of his fathers A
minute after he was at the countess bed
side. pressed lovingly in her arms.
When they had chatted two whole
hours, as they flashed their tea, Serge.
recollecting himself, suddenly said to his
mother:
have made, mother: A little fAir-haired
Raphael opened the gate for me this
morning.
The countess thought for moment.
"Ah, know" said she: "it's Marva
"a vir,ue-my dear child. A strange
little creature who adores me-"
"She is quite right" replied the son,
respectfully. "What do you do with
herr
"She embroiders in the afternoon. and
in the morning she attends on me but,
Serge, you mus, be prudent. My house
is strictly kept; don't you go and amuse
yourself makin5 gallant speeches TO my
girls"
"Oh, mother. what do you take me
for p carelessly replied the young man.
think of woman only when she is in
easket suited to her style Of beauty.
Now here you may have pearls, but the
casket is totally wanting.
They burst out laughing together.
Only those who thoroughly understood
these two beings could have guessed
beneath this light talk the strict propriety
of the mother and the sons respect for
the maternal home. But Russians of
the grande monde are so constituted that
when they have no vice they take all i'm
aginable trouble to affect it.
On leaving the dinIng-room the coun-
tess and her son directed their steps to-
wards the garden. In front Of the house,
in the courtyard, they met Marva stoop-
ing under the weight of an enormous
pile OF linen, which she was carrying from
the laundry. The sheets, held in under
her crossed hands, reached so high that
she had TO raise her chin and turn her
head sideways in order to see before
her.
See, there she is" SAID the countess
in French. stopping to look at her.
= II is hard to say whether she IS a
Raphael or Greuze,' said Serge. :" This
morning she had more the look OF a
Raphael with a Russian nose it is hy-
brid style of beauty. but it has certain
charm"
They continued their walk, while Mavra
entered the workroom with her pile oil
linen; when her hands were free she
stood trembling and silent. as though she
had been guilty Of a crime.
well, what are you waiting for = said
one Of the girls, pulling her by the apron
81 don't know" replied Mavra e
feel as if | had received blow, and my
hands keep on trembling"
You carried too heavy a load for your
strength. Sit down, and you will see il
will pass off,"
And in fact it did pass away in a few
minutes, but from that moment Mavra
was haunted by pair Of black eyes ,ha,
little suspected it.
Her veneration for the countess was in
nowise diminished by this. On the con-
trary, she loved her more, if possible
But ir1place Of one idol she had two. BY
little innocent tactics, that surprised her
self, she succeeded in having The service
of the young counts .oom assigned to
complete. The care of the wardrobe was
in the hands Of the valet-de- chambre, who
scrupulously avoided doing anything else;
and while Serge, on his magnificent black
horse, was galloping along under the
vaulted arches Of the pine forests that in
terwove their long branches above his
head, Mavra, penetrated by sweet emo
ton, with profound gratitude to God tor
making her life so easy and happy, was
smoothing with her delicate hands the
hne linen sheets OF the camp bed on
which her dear young master slept, and
passing her hesitating fingers over
the pillow. He will place his head
there when night comes and close his
eyes in sleep" This thought made the
young girl raise her hand and blush as
though there had been proclamation.
Serge was the most breakneck rider in
the world: no, from bravado, since for
the most part he was alone when he per
formed his wild exploits, but from in
s,inctive contempt for danger. One fine
morning, clearing hedge six feet high
there were none lower-the counts horse
stumbled and fell on its side. A touch
Of the spur made it spring up, but when
. Serge tried to spur the other side, that on
which it had fallen, he suffered excruciat-
ing pain. Fortunately it was the last
hedge, else he would have had some
) difficulty in getting home. He pushed
!. -