Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1883-04-13

over the nonappearance Of her favorite
scholar. 'She will not come now" the wild.
ow said to herself, as the inevitable mantel
clock struck a cheerful loud-voiced tone"
Truly she has twined herself into my heart,
that chtre petite Cora. How she laughs and
dances and sings her life away just like
that other one SO many years ago" A shiv-
er ran over the little woman's Frame and she
closed her eyes as if to Danish some painful
image. my pretty Cora will never know 80
sad fate as hers, thank le bon Dieu." A
light step upon the stairway, and Cora,
blooming with health and animation came
into the room.
Don't scod, dear madame. There is
time enough yet for a chapter of our book
before they send for me-"
The lesson began, but Oora's attention
wandered her thoughts few of at tan
gent her eyes grew dreamy a deeper rose
color settled in her cheeks. At last little
white protesting hand was laid across mad.
ame's page.
"Blanchet dear, want to confess to some.
body. Won't you be my priest? You know
that papa is in America attending TO bust
ness always, and that mamma is forever GO
ing out. I've nobody but that stupid Parker
of mine, and talk | must-I must Oh,
Blanchet, if such thing can be- am too
happy All of this dear blessed morning he
has been with me, and mamma has given her
consent, and we are to be married soon"
And then, the hood-gates loosed, came
stream of joyous confidence Cora never
thought to look up at her listener until she
felt hot tear then another drop upon her
hands clasped in the widows lap.
what is it, dear madame what have
said to pain you? ?" the girl asked, wonder
ing, to be answered by fit of bitter sob
bing. With kind and gentle words Cora
soothed her friends emotion, and at last
Madame Blanchet was able to speak once
more.
Forgive me, dearest young lady" she ex-
claimed. I'm truth | never can forgive my.
self. l owe it to you to explain my weak
ness See here this picture which you
have often caught glimpse of in my desk
Look at it-judge for yourself of her youth,
her innocence, her beauty. She was my on
| ly child, and / have lost her forever Years
ago she knelt, as you do now, and poured
out to ethe wealth of her love and happiness
under circumstances like yours. The rest is
too painful for you to hear"
Tell me more" the girl said, tenderly
| Il would be selfish indeed if I refused my
| sympathy at time when all seems so bright
/ before me-
| Little by little the story was revealed. Ten
| years before LGonie Blanchet had been
]
| to whom her mother had given her with
some misgiying, watching her go from that
modest home into life of luxury with many
anxious fears The husband Lconie had
! chosen was handsome, young and winning !;
he had made good his claim to a rank and
station far above LGonie's expectations. Le.
onie adored him What, then, was there to
apprehendy The widow could not tell, but
still LGonies first letters came to her so
| full Of buoyant pride. of confident happi-
ness, that for a time the mother could not
| but reflect it. The young couple were ab-
sent upon their wedding journey in the
| South, and had reached Rome, when a thun.
derbolt fell upon the pretty, trustful bride.
! The man whom Leonie believed to be her hus-
| band had left his true wife in England gay,
fashionable beauty, sufficiently "emancipat-
ed, according to the notions of her class, to
mock openly and lightly at her husbands s
| latest fancy.
"But this is not for you to hear, my child, 50
| the little French teacher said. Cora, who
from motives of delicacy had avoided look
! ing at her friend, glanced hastily up, struck
| by the suppressed passion in her voice
What transformation was there In place
| Of the quiet, repressed, demure parsonage
she had been accustomed to see, Madame
! Blanchet's eyes were afre ; her cheeks glow
ed with dull crimson; her teeth were
clinched.
"Do you know what would have done to
him ?" she went on. II am a Corsican, and
the blood runs hot in our veins when it is
stirred by wrong-rd!"
The brief passion was speut. It was sue
ceeded by a calm even more full of meaning.
Cora waited until her friend could trust her
self TO speak.
They parted then and there, Madame
Blanchet went on, in low tone. He did
not defend himself. He simply laughed at
| her-my poor, heart broken, humiliated child.
He said she was too innocent for the times
she lived in. And so she was, bon Dieu, too
innocent. She put all this into one last let
ter to me, aud then she hed-hed into the
night
"And now ?" the young girl said, after a
long silence
Now she is at peace, " the mother answer
ed, quietly. The Holy Church received heI
in its bosom. LGonie is one of the sisters OF
the convent of the Sepolte Vive. For some
time past have been laying up money in
order to take the journey to Rome, but unit
recently it was all l could do to live here, and
to 60 away from my employment meant star
walton. Oh if l could but have seen her,
would have stsrved-yes, gladly-but that is
impossible. All l can do is to visit the out
side of the convent upon her day Once {
year each sister has day, when she is al
lowed to throw over the convent wall a flow
er in token to her watching friends that she
is still alive, but that is all l know wha
flower my Leonie would choose-a bunch o
fresh white lilac -
'Sepolte Vive'-buried alive!" the younl
girl repeated, sadly. A shadow seemed Il
fall over her life and her budding happiness
A few months later saw the Roman sprinl
unfold in all its glory. A party of tourist
were visiting that wreck of medieval days
the convent of the Sepolte Yive. Most o
them turned back disappointed at the thresh
old, but group of three people fingered un
til the rest Of the sght.seers after colloqu,
held through revolving barrel in the wall o
the convent had reluctantly dispersed. Owe
this barrel was traced on inscription "Wh
would live content within these walls let he
leave at the threshold every earthly care.
Upon these lines woman dressed in black
standing apart from her two companions
kept her eyes fixed, while her lips moved il
prayer.
The order of nuns who have thus con
demned themselves to a living death subsis
on charity. It is only when their supple
are completely exhausted that they are allow
ed, after twenty four hours starvation, t
ring a certain bell, which the outside wor
interprets, "We are famishing." Two Lent
are observed by them during the year-th
one common 10 all Catholic Christians, an
another held between November and Christ
mas. In the intervals the sisters receive an
I partake of whatever food may be bestowe
on them by visitors.
Two of the three lOiterers were young an
handsome, radiant with illdisguised hap
ness That they were new-made husban
T. and wife none could doubt, andit was pleas
D ant sight to see the wife order to be brougf
s from carriage awaiting them hamper {
abundant danties and with the aid of he
D husband proceed to unpack their store, I
gain answer from the convent the youn
man knocked briskly upon the barrel heaC
which, slowly turning, revealed a shelf will
Z in.
t "What wilt thou, stranger ?" came voic
: faint and far as the note of Eolian harp. 5
t strong was the sense of remoteness and dos
= lation produced by this sound that involunt
! rily the young wife clasped her husband
8 arm in shuddering.
s "Oh it is too sad" she whispered in b
d ear. ~ think l will go back to the carrial
n and leave Madame Blruohet with you-may
s notH"
! Nonsense, darling. Who is it who h
n contriyed and carried out this little expec
y ton, Ishould like to know? Come, cheer u
n and bestow your bounties upon the good 81
] tlavr will ali