The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1883-05-09
IBlackwood's Magazine.l
Fleurette.
CHAPTER /.


had spent some years in the colonies,
doctoring diggers and the like rough-and-
ready folks. The novelty of the strange
scenes and free and easy life had at last
worn off. and found myself signing for the
responsibility of broadcloth and settled po-
sition in my profession. Aided somewhat
by thrift, and more by fortunate land spec
ulation, had money enough to supply my
wants for few years to come; so l returned
to England, resolved to beat out practice
somewhere.
OF course, the first person 1 went to see
was John. He was my brother-my only
brother-indeed, the one tie had to Eng
land. We were couple of orphans, but
pretty sturdy ones withal, and well able to
wrestle with the world. Fortunately, our
father lived until his Oldest son was of an
age to carry on his snug country practice;
so John still occupied the old red brick house
in the main street of the little town of Dale
bury, the same brass plate on the door doing
duty for him as for his father before him.
found old John-so his closest friends
ever called him-little changed; rather grav-
er in men, perhaps, but with the same hon
est eyes and kindly smile, winning at once
the confidence, and soon the love, of men
and women. As we clasped hands and
looked in each others faces we knew that
the years which had made men of us had
only deepened our boyish love.
1t was pleasant, very pleasant, for a wan
derer like myself to find such welcome a.
waiting him. 1t was good to sit once more
in that coy old room and talk with John
late into the night, discussing all that had
happened since last we sat there. / had
many questions to ask Dalebury is only
little town. Having been born and bred
there, knew all the inhabitants. / had not
been abroad long enough to forget old
friends, SO piled John with many inquir-
les as to the fate of one or another. | asked
"Who lives in the old house at the corner
where the Tanners lived onee?"
"a widow lady and her daughter, named
Dorvaux.''
'French, suppose from the name?'
NO, believe not. Her late husband was
French; but as far as / have learned, Mrs
Dorvaux is an English woman
Newcomers They must be quite an ac-
QUESTION to Dalebury. Are they pleasant
peoPlew
81 don't know-at least, only know the
daughter. She is very beautiful" added
John, with something very much like sigh
My quick ears caught The suspicious
sound. Could be on the eve of an interest
ing discovery?
very beautiful, is she? And what may
her Christian name be?'
Observation-Disclosures" replied John, re-
peating the soft French name, and lingering
upon it as though it were sweet to his lips,
like wine.
Then he changed the conversation, and
far away we drifted from beautiful maidens
and musical names as | recounted some of
my colonial exploits-how I treated strange
accidents, out-of-the-way diseases, ghas tly
gun-shot wounds-till our talk became pure
ly professional and without cheerfulness or
interest for the laity.
| spent the next day in looking up old
friends and neighbors. had brought mon
ey back with me-not very much, it is true,
but rumor has been kind enough to magnify
the amount-so every one was glad to see
me. Mind, l don't say this cynically; l only
mean that, leaving the nuisance of appeals
to the pocket, for old sake's sake, out of the
question, all must feel greater pleasure at
seeing rolling stone come back fairly coated
with moss than scraped bare. So all my old
friends made much of me, and / wondered
why the world in general should be accused
of forgetfulness.
While was at one house, another visitor
entered, and | was introduced to Miss Dor
vaux. As heard her name, the recollec-
tion of my grave brothers. midnight sigh
made me look at her intently and curious
ignore SO, fear, than politeness allowed.
Now you must decide for yourself as to
whether Fleurette Dorvaux was beautiful.
When say, candidly. only one person in
the world admres her more than / do, only
one person is her more devoted slave than
am, confess myself a partial witness,
whose testimony carries little weight But
to my eyes that day Fleurette appeared this.
About twenty years of age; scarcely middle
height, but with dainty, rounded figure:
brunette, with dark brown eyes, long black
loo1 Itrn hoe
black eyebrows and such black hairl nose,
mouth, and chin as perfect as could be; such
bright, bonny, lively little woman! Not,
decided at first, the wife for Woodworking,
sober doctor like John Penn.
Stays the girl so bright, so lively, after
all? On her entry she had greeted my
friends with a gay laugh and merry words,
emphasized with viVacious little French ges-
lures, and for few minutes she was all life
and sunshine. She seemed interested when
she heard my name, and with easy grace be-
gan taking to me thoughtfully and sensibly.
AS she talked, something in her manner
told me that life was not all sweetness to
her. At times her bright brown eyes looked
even grave and serious, and the smile, ever
on her lips as she spoke, softened to pen
slve smile. The first impression she made
on me, the idea that she was only brilliant
ilttie butterfly thing, left me, and / fastened
to atone mentally for the wrong l had done
her by thinking, l am for once mistaken;
the girl has plenty of sense, and likely
enough, will and purpose in that pretty
head Of hers; However, grave or gay, wise
or foolish, l saw In Fleurette Dorvaux
beautiful girl, and pictured woe for many
youth in Dalebury.
After John had seen the last of his pa
tients that night, he joined me in the old
room, and, with a bottle of good wine be-
tween us, said
81 saw your beautiful Miss Dorvaux TO-
day."
John started as he heard her name, but
made no reply; SO determined to learn all
that was to be learned
1t was very easy task. Old. John had
never yet been able to keep secret from ne