San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1888-06-02

Il,ru-uIaue protest, ana his hope began to
dwindle on the spot.
The doctor was everywhere, little doubt.
full on his legs, perhaps, and now and then
taking the wall with his shoulder; for it was
long since he had tasted absinthe, and he was
even then rejecting that the absinthe had
been misconception. Not that he regretted
excess on such glorious day, but he made
mental memorandum to beware; he must
not, a second time, become the victim of
deleterious habit. He had his wine out of
the cellar in twinkling; he arranged the
sacrificial vessels, some on the white table
cloth, some on the sideboard, still crusted
with historic earth. He was in and out of
the Kitchen plying Anastasie with vermouth,
heating her with glimpses of the future,
estimating their new wealth at ever larger
figures; and before they sat down to supper,
the lady's virtue had melted in the fire of his
enthusiasm, her timidity had disappeared;
she, too, had began to speak disparagingly Of
the life at Gretz; and as she took her place
and helped the soup, her eyes shone with the
glitter of prospective diamonds.
All through the meal, she and the doctor
made and unmade fairy plans. They bodied
and bowed and pledged each other. Their
faces ran over with smiles; their eyes scat
tered sparkes as they projected the doctors
political honors and the lady's drawing room
ovations.
but you will not be Red" cried Ana
stasie.
81 am Left Center to the CORE" replied the
doctor.
"Mme. Gastein will present us-we shall
| find overselves forgotten" said the lady.
Never" protested the doctor. Beauty
| and talent leave a mark"
81 have positively forgotten how to dress"
l she sighed.
Darling, you make me blush" said he
| "Yours has been tragic marriage!"
| but your successful see you appreciated,
honored, your name in all the papers, that
| will be more than pleasure =. it will be
heaven!" she cried.
'And once week." said the doctor, archly
scanning the syllables, ''once a week-one
| good little game of baccarat!"
''Only once weekW she questioned, threat
| ening him with finger.
Il swear it by my political honor" cried
he.
81 spoil you," sine said, and gave him her
hand.
He covered it with kisses.
Jean-Marie escaped into the night. The
moon swung high over Gretz. He went
| down to the garden end and sat on the jetty.
| The river ran by with eddies of oily silver,
| and low, monotonous song. Faint wells of
mist moved among the poplars on the further
| side. The reeds were quietly nodding A
hundred times already had the boy sat, on
| such night, and watched the streaming
river with untroubled fancy. And this per-
haps was to be the last. He was to leave this
| familiar hamlet this green rustling country,
this bright and quiet stream; he was to pass
| into the great city; his dear lady mistress
| was to move bedizened into Saloons his good,
| garrulous kind hearted master to become
| brawling deputy; and both be lost forever to
Jean-Marie and their better selves. He knew
| his own defects; he knew he must sink into
| less and less consideration in the turmoil of
| city life; sink more and more from the child
| into the servant And he began dimly to be-
| lieve the Doctors prophecies of evil He
| could see a change in both. His generous
incredulity failed him for this once; child
must have perceived that the Hermitage had
| completed what the absinthe had begun If
this were the first day, what would be the
last9 N necessary, wreck the train, +" thought
he, remembering the doctors parable. He
looked round on the delightful scene; he
/ drank deep of the charmed night air, laden
with the scent of hay. "If necessary, wreck
the train" he repeated. And he rose and re-
| turned to the house.