The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1883-06-07
A PARTISAN NOVELETTE,.

a PARISIAN NOVELETTE,.
She was only q poor Sewing-girl moth
ing more. Her days were spent in 8
factory, where, with hundreds Of others
she worked early and late to earn the
poor pittance that gained her daily
bread, and her nights were spent up il
garret, where the noisome smells from
the court below and the curses and cries
sometimes made her shudder. But she
was no heroine. The other girls said she
was not even pretty, but her braitls OF
long, fair hair were bright and soft, and
her eyes, though her face was pale, were
sweet and pure, and III spite of her life,
as it was, she was innocent as when long
ago her mother had died in the same
garnet where she now lived. She was
not even Christian-few in Paris are,
I believe-and then churches are not foi
poor people, you know-and when hel
Sundays came they were such days of
rest after her hard, hard week that she
was glad to be away from the crowd
and rattle and noise, and sit by herself
alone.
One day there came to the factory
some gentlemen, all friends Of the pro-
prietor, who walked through and looked
at the machines, how the girls worked
them, how nimble their fingers were, and
how the clothes were cut-all matter of
fact enough to the girls, but curious to
them. They all laughed and joked and
said something to the girls, and one
stopped before her chair and said, "What
beautiful hairl" touching just 50 gently
some one of the long golden strands.
She blushed very red, and they walked
on.
"IIer name?" .
Marie" said the proprietor eyes,
pretty hair, but nothing else; she is only
poor sewing-girl, not even one of the
heads of the department; only very
poor girl, Monsieur"
AS the stranger walked out there was
caught i'll his coat long thread of hair,
which he laughed at, smiled, and then
loosing slowly, placed it in the rich lock-
ct he wore Oh his chain and passed out.
He did not return again, hnt ono day
passing OH the Boulcvartls she heard her
name called. "Marie!' A gendarme in
uniform stepped up and handed her a
card: Monsieur Henri de Lmnes,
Marquise de Plaquemine.
She was surprised. Gentlemen do not
bother themselves about poor sewing
girls often; and then marquis. Who
was he? What could it mean?
Gle is here, Nam 'selle, and wishes to
speak to you. Will you go?''
She followed, she did not know why,
and when the soldier stopped at rich
saloon, and the door opened, she stepped
in and saw the gentleman who spoke at
the factory some weeks ago.
Then, she burst into tears" Mon
sieur, don't, for Gods sake, Monsieur, l
am only Il poor girl, and what can mar
quis want with me? For Gods, sake,
don't, please;" and she buried her face
i'll her hands.
The long fair hair fell in it's two braids
down over her shoulders, and as she sank
almost Oh the floor it covered her almost
like cloud.
Monsieur arose; he was an old man,
past fifty; his hair was gray and his face
was hard, clear-cut, and cold. and his
eyes were like steel Just so clear and
Sharp and cold; he walked to the window
of the rich saloon, and then, returning
half way, leaned with one hand on a
chair and the other tenderiy, ever SO
tenderly for a hard old man, rested for
one moment Oh her fair hair, and it trem-
bled.
BY many strange ways and much
blood had Monsieur come to be standing
in that place, and then for one moment
there seemed to float before him vision
of fair Lorraine, youth long ago, a
face sitting in a cottage, and two long
braids Of hair, a promise that when he
returned, with wealth and fame, she
would be his. Years of toll and pain,
: of success and triumph, and a. return to
find her married to churl, a common
country peasant, and they both gone to
Paris.
Since then Monsieur was known to be
Il hard MANA very hard man; and when
with his legions in Africa twas said he
was a fierce one; but he was high in
court and all praised and honored hlm.
He stood for moment thus and then
wondered to himself half aloud; "Marie,
is that your name?"
Yes, Monsieur"
"Your mothers name?"
eyes, Monsieur
Was she from Basle in Lorraine?"
eyes, Monsieur"
The hands were removed from the
face now and the fair soft eyes were
raised wondrously, but the face of Mon.
sieur was hard again, only just in the
corners of his mouth, where the curves
were, there was trembling, a vague
dream of something to be said, which
died with them unspoken.
He took her hand, though, tcnderly
and as he led her to the door he stopped
as she turned and kissed her. Before
she looked he was gone.
After that she worked hard as evcl
in the factory, and though she said moth
ing she thought often of the great Mon
sleur, and what it could all mean.
The time came, though, when she wa.
taken ILL 1t came upon her one day il
the street, when she would have tainted
and fell but that some one caught her
She was insensible Tor long, long time
but In her sickness she could hear NJ
noise as from the court, and when OH,
morning she awoke she was lying in
rich room hung with pictures of richant
marvellous beauty. Over the pillow wa
her fair hair, and her hand was thin alt
pale anil she was very weak.
Oyer by the window was the figure o