The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1885-05-08

about?n
"Wait-may be my son can show you
the way"
After what seemed to Vladimir an
interminable delay, the door opened
and small boy came out.
"What time is it? inquired Vladimir.
ut will soon be daylight " The
| baffled bridegroom was silent
The cocks were Growing and the day
breaking when they reached Jadrino.
! The church was closed After reward
I ing his guide and bidding him good
bye, Vladimir knocked with trembling
hand at the priests house; his troika
was not in the yard. What did it
mean"
But we will return to the good
| Gabrielowich and see what was going
on in his house. The old people arose
as usual and went down to breakfast;
| Gabriel Gabrielowich in his flannel cap
and gown, and Pascowia Petrowna
ready dressed for the day. In answer
to message from Gabrielowich, Marie
sent word she had had bad night, but
would be down presently. In few
minutes the door opened, and our hero
| inc entered.
"How is the head, daughter?"
"Much better, father"
perhaps the heat from the furnace
was too great yesterday"
Perhaps, mamma" said Maria.
Toward evening, though, Maria was
not so well, and the village doctor was
sent for, but before he came high fever
had set in. and the poor girl was delir-
ious. For a whole week she hung be-
tween life and death.
No one in the house SO much as sus-
pected Maria's flight; her letters were
destroyed, and the maid had been dis
Greet, fearing her masters displeasure.
The priest and witnesses were silent,
and the coachman was not much of a
talker even when in his cups. For a
wonder, the secret was well kept, al
though known to half a dozen people.
Maria, of course, spoke of nothing else
during her delirium, and the good
mother, who nursed her devotedly.
made out that her child was dying of
love for Vladimir. Therefore, after duo
consultation with her husband and sew
eral neighbors. it was agreed that pow
erty is no crime-one lives with the
man and not with his money-etc., etc. {;
and such moral maxims are always of
great help when reason does not justify
our course. Thus, when Maria became
convalescent, her parents sent for Via
dimor Nicolaewich, but great was the
CONSERVATION at Menarodowno when in
came letter, written apparently by a
mailman, in which the young fellow de-
clared he would never set foot in their
house, and begged them to forget a
poor wretch whose only hope was in
death. Soon after they heard he had
joined the army. This was in 1912.
They dared not tell Maria, who on her
side never mentioned his name. A re-
lapse of the fever was feared when, a
few months later, she fell into dead
swoon having accidentally seen his
name in the list of those who had dis
tinguished themselves and been wound
ed at Borodino.
But misfortunes never come singly;
the good Gabrielowich died, leaving all
| his fortune to Maria. Riches, however,
were powerless to console her; she
mourned his death sincerely, and vowed
never to leave her poor widowed moth
er. They both left Menarodowno, so
fraught with sad associations, and went
to live on another estate situated near
! Gousk. There, also, Maria was soon
! surrounded and importuned by many
admirers, but discouraged them all. in
| spite of her mothers advice and express
deslre our heroine, for answer, silently
shook her head Vladimir was dead
killed at Moscow on the eve of the en-
trance of the French troops. His mem
DRY seemed sacred to Maria, who ten
derby treasured all the mementoes of
her lost love - his sketches, letters,
poems, and the books they had read to-
| gether; the neighbors commented won
deringly upon such unusual constancy,
and awaited with much interest the COM
ing of the hero who was to triumph
over the melancholy constancy of this
new Artemisia.
The war ended gloriously for Russia;
her legons returned victorious, and
were received everywhere with vocifer-
GUS and joyful acclamations. Mothers
and sisters, with tears of joys in their
eyes, pressed to their hearts the youths
who had left them, now grown into
manhood, bronzed by exposure, hard
ened by fatigue and privation-but now
returned covered with glory. Perhaps
Maria and her mother, living so far out
of the way, were among the very few
who took no part in the general enthu>
slasm. The monotony of their lives,
though, was even there disturbed by the
advent of the dashing young Colonel
Bourmine, before whom her usual train
of adorers had to retreat. He took
all hearts by storm with his brilliant
hussar uniform, fascinating manners,
aud the cross of St. George, which
glistened on his breast. He was about
twenty-six years of age. and had come
to an adjoining property on leave OF
absence. Maria soon learned to look
forward to his frequent visits, and her
habitual melancholy disappeared, like
snow under the genial rays of an April
sun. Indeed Bourmine might well In
spire infatuation. His outward appear
ance and manner were of the kind to
take woman's fancy. Toward Maria
he was full of all those tender little at.
tentions so captivating to young girl.
Though so gentle and modest in man.
ner, he had the reputation of being
very reckless, but this, in Maria's eyes,
as well as in many another's s, was rather
an advantage than otherwise. One
thing, however, puzzled her-undoubt-
edly Bourmine lovedssher, and in her in
most soul she confessed to liking for
him-why, then, did he not speakp Why
such marked attentions, wistful looks,
and yet not word of lover Why did
he not throw himself at her feet and de-
clare his passion? Was it the natural
shyness of love, or was he seeking to
win her affections only to cast them
asideP 1t was an enigma she could not
solve. There must be mystery some
where, and this idea was enough to fire
Maria's romantic imagination, She de-
termined, with a woman's natural in
clination to coquetry, to bring him with
the confession of his secret to her feet.
Languishing looks, pensive brow, a
gentle sigh, soon had the desired effect,
and Bourmine grew morose and mel