The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1888-10-14

this came 70 pass As for me, have often
'ked myself the question without being
ab q TO reply TO it. but we love &C oth +,
and II 1t is a crime to do 81, pardon II, :
see;h you, for IT came from afar, from every :
thing in skurt tn II surrounded us. " ael L
realized tn t | loved him, it was already too
late to prevent it. Now, is it possible TO be
angry on that account. You can keep him
with you, make hun marry some othe' per-
son, but you can or prevent him from Civ
ing me his heart He will die without me,
as shall if obliged to pat from him.
When be is not by my side feel that he Is
really near me, and that we will never be
@ tlrely sonar tied, since we carry eacl
others life with us. have only to clio % my
eyes TO resee him when | wish, 50 firmly Is
his image impressed on my soul. Our whole
natures are thus closely united for life. And
could you wish TO draw us away from this
uulons Oh, monseigneur, it is dvine; do
not try to preventu us loving each other"
He looked at her il her simple. working
dress, so fresh, SO unpretending and attract
i've. He listened to her as she repeated the
canticle of their lova in voice that both
fascinated and troubled him, and which grew
stronger by degrees. But as her garden hat
fell upon her shoulders, her exquisite hair
seemed to make "a halo around her head, Of
fine gold, and she appeared to him indeed
Inv JAW Va IhCoo VA A4S ~ WV
old prayer-bool<, SO frail was she, so prilni-
tive, 81 absorbed in her deep feeling of in
tense and pure affection.
"Be good, be merciful, monseigneur You
are the master. Do allow us to be
happyp
Sne implored him, and finding that he re-
manned unmoved. without speaking, she
again bowed down her head.
Oh! this unhappy child at his feet; this
~ nsat
figure thus bent before him! There he saw,
as it were again. the beautiful light locks he
had so fondly caressed in the days gone ty.
She, whose memory still dist; essed him aft
er twenty years of penitence, had the same
fresh y0uthfulness, the same proud expires
sion, aud the same lily-like grace. She had
reaDpeared; it was she herself who now
sobbed and besought him to be tender and
mercful
Tears had come to Angelique, yet she con-
tinued to outpour her heart
And, monseigneur, it is not only that /
love him, but I also love the nobility of his
name, the lustre of his royal fortune. Yes,
know well that being nothing, that hav-
ing nothing, it seems as if | were only de-
sirous of his money. In q way it - true 1t
is also for his wealth that | wish to marry
him. I tell you this because it is necessary
that you should know me thoroughly. An!
to become rich by him and with him. to
owe all my happiness 10 him, to live in the
sweetness and splendor of luxury. to be
free in our loving home, and to have no
more sorrow, no misery around US! That's
my IDEAL Since he has loved me l fancy
myself dressed in heavy brocades, as ladies'
were in olden days; have on my arms and
around my neck strings OF pearls and pre-
cious stones; l have rises and carriages /;
groves in which | take long walks, followed
by pages. Whenever | think of him my
dream recomnences and [ say to myself:
This must all come to pass, for it perfects
my desire to become queen. Is it, then,
monseigneur, bad thi * to love him more,
because he can crafty all my childish
wishing, by showerlng down miraculous
floods of gold upon me as in fairy tales"
He saw then that she rose up proudly,
with a charming, stately air of a true
princess, in spite of her real simplicity.
And she was always exactly like the fair
maiden of other years, with the same
flower-like delicacy, the same tender tears,
clear as smiles. A species of intoxlcation
came from her, the warm breath of which
mounted to his face-the same shadow of a
remembrance which made him at night
throw himself upon his devotional chair
so ubing SO deeply that he disturbed the
the sacred silence of the bishopric.
Until 3 o'clock in the morning of this same
day he had commended with himself again
and this long history of love, this story o
passion, would only revive and excite his in
durable wound. But behind his impassive
ness nothing was seen, nothing betrayed
his efforts at self control and his attempt L
conquer tie beating of his heart. Were h,
to lose his life's blood, drop by drop, NJ
one should see it flow, and he now sim
ply became paler, was silent and immova
bic.
At last this great persistent silence mad
Angelique desperate, and she redoubled he
prayers.
II put myself in your hands. monseig
neur. Do with me whatever you thinl
best. But have pity when deciding M
fate"
Still. as he continued not to speak, he ter
rified her, and seemed to grow taller thai
ever as he stood before her in his fearful
majesty The deserted cathedral, who's
aisles were already dark, VITA its higl
vaulted arches where the daylight seemed
dying, made the agony of this silence still
harder to bear.
In the chapel, where the commemorative
slabs could no longer be seen, there re
manned only the bishop in bis purple cas-
SOCK, that now looked black, and his long
white face which alone seemed to have alb
sorbed all the light. She saw his bright
eyes fixed upon her with an ever-increasina
depth of expression, and shrunk from
them, wondering if it were possible thai
anger made them shine in SO strange {
way.
'Monseigneur, mad not come to-day,
should have eternally reproached myself
for having brought about tho unhapplnes
of us both from my want of courage. Tel
me then, oh, tell me, that l was right in do
ing so, and that you will give us your con
sentW
What use would there be in discussing
the matter with this childs He had already
given his son the reasons for his refusal
and that was all-sufiicient. That he haC
not yet spoken was only because he thought
he had nothing to say. She, no doubt, un-
derstood him, and she .eened to wish tc
raise herself up that she might be able tC
kiss his hands. But he threw them behind
him violently, and she was startled at seeing
his white face bee me suddenly crimson,
from rush of blood to his head.
"Monseigneur Monseigneur"
At last he opened his lips, to say to her
Just one word, the same he had said to his
son:
"Nevere'
And without remaining to pray that day
as was his won't he left the chapel and with
slow steps soon disappeared behind the pill
lars of tie apse.
Falling on the hagstones, Angelique wept
for long time, sobbing deeply in the great
peaceful silence ofthe empty church.