Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1885-04-03

emo doubt we shall con,.rive to dine at least
every second day, and we can lie in bed
good deal, as we have done before But to-
morrow, my friend, is Christmas, and this
day week is New Years day."
"WellY'
''Well?-don't you see what that means!
On New Year day we give gifts to those we
love"
"Ah!-Gabriellel did not think of that!'
My dear Paul, you never think! That is
why I love you. But just see how I am
placed! You know that, if she chose-if she
took back her word to me-Gabrielle might
have presents dresses jewels-what you
Will And II shall walk with her round
the Bouleyards; the windows are full Of
pretty things; she will scarcely lock at them,
for fear of vexing me; and I shall not be
able to turn my eyes from them, for thinking
of what should like to buy for her. shall
see the people crowding in and out, laughing,
joking, happy in giving and receiving-and
for Gabrielle, nothingl Even the booths on
the edge Of the pavement we must pass
even the most trifing keepsake, cannot give
it her! That is what happens on New Years
day to the poor man who has sweetheart.
''If / had only something left to send to the
pawnbroknr!"
The exclamation escaped me unawares,
was so moved by Raoul's evident pain OF
mind. 1t made him laugh, however; he de-
clared that was my instructive resource.
And, indeed, there was some truth in this,
confess it.
ssLet us look things in the face" said at
last; "surely there must be some resource, if
we can only think of it. shall go to Levi
Jacob tomorrow; 1 shall demand loan;
shall tell him"
''That your friend Raoul Girard wants to
buy present for his afianced on New Years
days That won't soften the flint that does
duty for a heart with Levi Jacob, my dear
Paul! And besides you owe him too much
already"
''Too true. And can you, then, think of
nothing?"
''Nothing. You know that since LIE Petit
Monde stopped no other journal has accepted
my articles. And my wretched salary as
critic for LIE Drame is already overdrawn;
they will advance me nothing. I had some
hope when the editor of The Monde gave me
that letter to M. Beauvais. I thought he
might have paid us something in advance.
But that hope has failed"
For some time we both slipped our coffee in
silence. I had never before seen Raoul thus
in open rebellion against mis- poverty; had
never before seen that shadow on his brow
which darkened it tonight.
"Our only hope now,n said at last, gloom
lily, ''seems to be in miracle"
s'Say at once-in letter from the director
of the Odeonr
'.And why rot? Only would not call that
miracle! You know what l said of your
comedy at the time, Raoul-you know what
Tisson, of LIE Drame, said of it"
II know, my dear Paul, that if you were
director of the Odeon the rehearsals would
begin tomorrow. But evidently NJ Des-
ncuette's opinion is not ours. I wish he
would send back the manuscript; I could
make short story Of it."
Raoul spoke lightly, but I knew that this
particular failure had bitterly disappointed
him. Six months hard work had been given
to that comedy. There were scenes and stu
atoms in it that-but this is quite needless
depression.
'sHave not heard you speak of relative
of yours living in the Quarter?" Iventured
to say; "an uncle, was it not, who is rich?
Perhaps he-n
''Useless to think of it! He is rich-how
rich nobody knows but himself But he is a
miser; he grudges himself every mouthful he
eats and every fagot he burns. He must be-
ieve that there are pockets in the winding
sheet! You remember that day in the gar
dens of the Luxembourg last summer?"
t'Quite well. We were sitting under the
trees, feeding the birds with the crumbs left
over from our breakfast. An old man hob
bled past and frowned at us. What was it
he said to you, Raouls'
"'Young man, he said, never give away
what some day you may want yourself
And that is the man! Inever yet have asked
anything Of him for myself. Twice went
to him, when my good uncle at Provins-his
own brother-was lying i'll and in want.
Rather than give me money-rather than
part with his cherished coin, he actually gave
me one or two things he had about him, arti-
cles of vertu-to SELL"
81 remember. What singular mani"
Gle is a cur; can call him nothing elsel
When my poor uncle at Provins died went
to him again. It was about the costs of the
funeral. PAY for all, he said; then bring
an exact account to me- l paid for all;
partly with what I could scrape together,
partly by loan from you. When I went
back I found that my worthy uncle had
given strict orders to the servant never on
any showing to admit me again. That was
year ago. and he owes me the money to this
day. It would make me rich now-if could
get it!'
"And you have not seen him since?"
81 have not tried. My interviews with
him were not pleasant. He affected to be-
ieve that my story was fiction; that / only
wanted his money to spend it on my folies
He made me swallow addersl PAIL Say no
more of him. He is the one man on earth
that hate"
Raoul said this in tone which left no
doubt as to the reality of his hatred.
noticed how his face flushed and his eyes
blazed, and could imagine how badly the old
miser must have treated him, since Raoul's
anger was the rarest thing in the world.
Nothing more passed between us on this
disagreeable subject; but I could see that
Raoul had not dismissed it from his mind
He was silent and preoccupied. and the
shadow rested on his face I knew that he
was thinking also Of Gabrielle Dumaine, and
how he could offer her no gift on New Years
day. That might seem small thing, COM
paratively; but it was not so to Raoul Girard
For he was very proud.
We left the cafe Of La Source unwillingly
the plash and ripple of the fountain seemed
to murmur: Stay; call for another glass of
absinthe, another cup Of coffee. But two
ncsl-forty sousi-and an indefinite num-
ber OF dinners to expend them on! We tore
ourselves away from La Source.
Arm in arm we went along the Rue Racine
and across the Place de rOdeon, on the way
to our common lodging. Raoul was strangely
silent, and noticed that he walked at a much
swifter pace than was usual with him.
Neither of us had overcoat or umbrella;
these useful articles had drifted long since to
the pawnbroker shop. The sleet dashed in our
faces, our thin garments were soon drenched,
the mud and water from the puddles splashed
I'D about us. It was an exec able night. 1t
should have been my part to solace myself
with a little mild grumbling- and Raoul's to
rebuke me with some words OF gay philosophy.
But tonight had an impression that he was
making personal grievance Of this exposure
to the snow and wind. He seemed strangely
unlike himsf.N, Once. after one of the fercer
blasts, I heard something like curse escape
his lips.
We scarcely exchanged dozen words b
tw> zen the Boulevard and the top Of the Ri
Da1An hipe. At the corner of that street