The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1883-07-07
MARGARET AND LUCILLE.


lOunu jean NdttOb, OWioo VIM lltlO
spent his life in the service of travellers be-
tween England and Italy, and who accom-
panied us during a tour of several months in
western Europe. He was at least sixty years
OF age, though still alert and vigorous; and
in his manners there was that Difference to
keepers and servants which characterized
the courers of the last generation, whose
office was far more important than is theirs
Of this day of railways and multi
piled facilities for travel. How imperi-
Gus he was when he dared He never
allowed anyone else to assist us in and out of
cars and carriages he pushed aside the wait
ers at the hotel tables. that he alone might
attend us; he had genius for Souffiets and
other delicate dishes, and often surprised us
by bringing them in with the desert reply
ing to our praises, Yes, it is very good; |
made it myself as if that fact would account
for any excellence He was scrupulously po-
lite in his situations yet If the least unus-
ual service was required of him, or if his adj
vice as to routes and conveyances was not
taken, his frigid air and frowning brow and
compressed lips showed se6shness and a
stubborn. Will and while strictly proper in
demeanor, he had, when he pleased, the fac
ulty of making one thoroughly uncomforta-
bic.
All we ever learned from him of his his
tory, was what he told us one evening at St.
Marun's Oh the road from Geneva to Cha
mount. 1t was a wild night and we we're the
only guests at the inn. The rain beat upon
the roof and the wind howled dismally
through the valley, making human compan-
ionship and sympathy grateful to the heart.
BY a blazing wood fire we were forgetting the
chill and fatigue of the day, when l noticed
that Jean, who stood in a recess waiting for
his morning orders, was intently perusing a
letter. 1t was the first indication we had
seen that he had any interest beyond him
sell, and said:
'Iou have letter, Jean; hope it brings
you good news"
Neither good nor bad, mademoiselle; it
is from my girls"
Your girlsl Where are they2 and how
old are they2 and what are their names2
Pray sit down and tell us all about them"
There is not much to tell" he replied, as
with respectful bow he took the proffered
chair. They are Margaret and Lucille, fif-
teen and eleven years old, and have them
at a small pension near Bruxelles,"
And where is their mother"
''5he is dead these five years"
Poor girlsl that is sad"
Eyes, and no. mademoiselle. She was a
good woman. but always aiiing. If she had
lived could not have paid the doctor and a
servant aud kept the children at the pension
too. Now | hope they will soon be able to
do something for themselves"
WAS your wife from your own country?"
''Oh, mol from England Perhaps a Swiss
woman would have been stronger and made
me less of trouble; but Margaret Dane was a
pretty girl and very good tempered, and
seemed healthy enough in those days. She
was Lady VernOn'S maid. and / was their
courier through a long journey. One Sun
day an accident kept us at dull little town
in Bavaria, and whether had taken glass
too much OF beer, or how it was. l never can
explain; but lost my head and asked her to
marry me. l WAS forty and she was only
twenty-one. 1t was q great mistake. She
had lived at the hall and was used to com
fort, and had done very we'll alone; but, as
l said, she was al ways ailing, and she brought
me five children; only Two OF them, however
--Dieu mercil-surviyed their first year /
had no particular fault to find with her; l
suppose she did SIS we'll as she could; but it
would have been far better If she had re-
manned lady s maid and l a bachelor
eff this was your feeling. JEAN it is not
strange that she was always ailing,' and has
been five years dead She must have been
very unhappy"
81 dare say she was but I couldn't help
that. l was very unhappy myself. And that's
the way with half the people in my station,
iH they would only speak their thoughts.
The truth is, naademoiselle, no man should
marry who hasn't plenty of money. There
was my friend Louis Meyer, at Bruxelles-
he was getting on capitally--had engage
ments with the best parties and thousand
francs laid by, when he AUST needs marry a
young gouvernante--Englsh too--and now
he is far more unfortunate than am. l saw
him when we we're there, and he told me he
had been obliged to give up travelling and
WAS then acting merely valet de place,
L l.
vii tn an occasional evenings waiting when
there were festivities at the court And
why? Because he had ten children, eight of
them daughters and one of the eight Grip
ple-think of thatl The eldest girl. just thur
teen, he has apprentieed to a hair-dresser;
the next two will soon begin the lace-mak-
ing; but still there are five and one OF them
will never walk. Juste ciell'
'Yet he surely has some pleasure with his
family?'
"Pleasurel" with shrug of the shoulders;
cit isn't pleasure he is looking for, but
hreadl
But his case is an unusual one"
Ma foil no There was Maurice Hahn, of
Strasbourg, who had always been a very pru-
dent man, only rather given to foolish senti-
ment-liked his room hung around with bits
of pictures. and never forgot mass. He had
saved so much that he hoped, another year.
to take a small inn on one of the boulevards
and begin business for himself. What did
he do but marry widow he found at the
Adler in Trieste, an Austrian, with two
boys and not a sou; and all because
he fancied she looked like the
Dresden Madonna He has never come
back; wiser man rented the Lion DOR"
some one saw him lately among the walters
at the Adler. and you may be certain that
by this time he wished he had b cen intent
to admire the widow at distance, as we do
the saints in the churches. The only one of
my set ever knew better himself by marry
ing was Henri Caller, from my own village
near Geneva. His wife was from Rouen
but had kept lodgings in London for twelve
years She was older than he, and any
thing but handsome; but she had laid by a
good bit of money, and she made a comfort
able home for him between his journeys.
speak the truth, mademoselle only the