The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1883-10-18

| L had found Fleurette at last. Ac
tually living in a stones throw Of my
door! Perhaps she had lived ther,
ever since she left Dalebury. Nov
having found her, what was [ to dt
with her? l guessed that I had alsc
! fathomed her mystery. You see i
was only commonplace, vulgar littl.
mystery after all "a mothers drunk
enness the sum-total Of it. Yet wher
| though ht of the girl giving up he1
love and bright prospects for the sake
of keeping her erring mothers vice q
secret, most likely never complaining
of the sacrifice, wearing to the outer
world bright face that hid from
nearly every one the sorrow of hel
heart, it seemed to me that our little
Fleurette was something very near a
heroine, after ALL
My first idea was to telegraph to
John and tell him where to find her;
but upon consideration | thought it
better to wait until after our inter-
view in the evening.
| found Fleurette alone. She was
very pale, very sad, very subdued-very
different, indeed, to the angry young
woman who had walked into the river
three years ago, or the unjust tyrant
who had ordered me from her pres
ence that afternoon. My first inquiry
was after her mother. Poor Fleurette
colorea as she told me the lady was
now almost convalescent, and she did
not think [ need trouble to see her
again. Then she held out her hand,
and as l took it, said
"Please forgive me for my unjust
words to-day; but | was so vexed, I
scarcely knew what | said"
"We are always forgiving each
other, Fleurette. Brothers unto sew
enty times seven-why not sisters
also?"
Fleurette smiled sadly and hope
lessly.
Tell me, Fleurette,' I said gently
as [ sat down beside her, was this the
cause?"
She nodded her pretty head.
Tell me all about it. How long
has it been going on? lean be secret
as you"
And then Fleurette told me. [ will
not give her words. They were too
loving, too lenient, and ever framing
excuses. 1t was a piteous
little tale, even as she told it-a tale
of hope growing stronger every day,
till in one hour it was crushed as a
flower is crushed under foot. Then
came penitence, contrition, shame,
and the ever-recurring vows Of amend
ment. And with them hope sprang
afresh and bloomed for awhile -only
to be cut down as ruthlessly as before.
And so on for years, ever the same
weary round, and although she told
me not, ever the same loving care, the
same jealous resolve to shield her
mothers sins from the vulgar gaze
1t was a hard burden for a girl to
bear. For this she gave up the hope
Of being Johns wife. She would not
Leave her mother to perish, and would
not injure John, as she shrewdly fear
ed might be the case if she subjected
him to the scandal of having a moth
er-in-law of Mrs. Dorvaux's disposi-
ton living with him; and knowing as
know the delicate susceptibilities Of
patients in a place like Dalebury, in
my heart | thought that Fleurette
was right.
"And why did you leave Dalebury?'
[ asked, when she had finished her
recital.
Mamma was--ill~there; so i'll, !
was frightened, and obliged to send
fer a doctor-and | feared people
might learn the cause" So that was
why DR.. Bush had been called in in
stead Of John.
Then we came to London" she
London is so large, |
thought we might hide ourselves
here"
"How often do these-these attacks
show themselvesP" | asked.
"Sometimes not for months; some
times twice month. Oh, do you
think she can ever be cured? She
has been 50 good, so good for such d
long time! If l had not gone out to-
lay, this might never have happened.
Our poor old servant died some
months ago, and l could not trust
the new one, or she might have pre-
vented it. Do you think she can be
cured?"
shook my head l knew too we'll
that when a woman OF Mrs. Dor
vaux's age has these periodical ire
sistihla cravings after stimulants, the
case is well-nigh hopless. Missiona-
ries, clergymen, and philanthropists
tell us pleasing and comforting tales
Of marvellous reformations, but medi-
cal men know. the sad truth.
was so indignant at the sacrifice
Of a young girls life, that had |
spoken my true thoughts, l should
have said, Leave the brandy bottle
always full always near at hand, 80
that" Well, [ won't be too hard on
mother. She must have
had some good in her for the girl to
have loved her SO.
We had said nothing about John as
yet. That was to come.
"Fleurette, | shall write to John to-
night. What shall I tell him?"
Her black eyelashes were now only
visible.
"What can you tell him? You
promised to guard my secret"
Il shall, at least, tell him have
found you, and then he must take his
own course
ooh, don't let him come here"
pleaded the girl. 81 could not bear to
See him; and perhaps" she added,
with a faltering voice, "he doesn't
care to hear anything about me now
All, Fleurette, Fleurette! after all,
on some points you are only weak
woman.
The next day I begged leave of alb