Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1888-01-06

had heap of anthracite in the CRATE, which
| reflected its ruddiness in mirrors and polished
floors Birds burst into song from undiscov-
| cred corners, and an odor of Indian perfumes
hoated from Miss Whipple's dress.
A visiting card inscribed m. Hippolyte
Ronnetheau,n lay on table, toward which
she waved her hand.
''Your friend NJ Bonnetheau, was here
last evening"" she said, smiling. 1T was my
guardian who received him"
"And you did not see him?n I inquired.
'I-yes, for moment, at my guardians
request
Then you do not approve of him?n
She Strengthened herself, with touch Of
hauteur. He has been misrepresented.
take nothing upon hearsay, m'sieur. He has
a beautiful theory of religion" she added,
''that of NJ Comten
/ ''Ah" l exclaimed, ironically.
eyes, she continued, "and he assures me
that the principles of Altruism result in the
highest good to all who practice them. I do
not doubt it, and yet, it seems to me-do you
believe that Comte never cared about being
happyg'
No, believe he craved it and sought it, in
his way, as violently as Bonnetheau seeks
pleasure in his. Only, Comics happiness
consisted in being the promulgator- had
an intense personal calculation in that-of a
. new philosophy, while Bonnetheau's is COM
prised-well he has programme of his own.
But as for Hippolytes talk on this subject,
assure you, it is all frippery. He does not
| believe a word of it himself, and although he
| has done you no harm as yet, pardon me, but
he will do you great deal, if you continue
4 to listen to him.
'sWhy does every one accuse M. Bonnetheau
of insincerity?' she demanded Indignantly.
I 81 am sure he has a great deal of feeling"
| "Ah, do not doubt it, ma'm'selle, but be sure
| assured that the feelings which he really has
are not those which he shows. That is the
| difficulty in comprehending Hippolyte.
Miss Whipple sighed, and changed the sub
| ject, but 1 could see, upon taking leave of
her, that had removed none of the fascina-
| ton which Bonnetheau had exercised upon
| her. He had such a marvellous way of MAX
| ing people believe him, notwithstanding
| their approval of him was founded upon
doubt
| Approaching our apartment that night, I
| perceived, by unmistakable sounds proceed
ing thence, that carousal was in progress.
| pushed my way through the uproar, disre-
| garded by Bonnetheau, and throwing up d
| window in the farthest room, leaned into the
purer air.
| 1 gazed into the street below. Turmoil
there, too. A jangle of instruments came
from over the way, and the tread of dancing
| feet. There were broils, "affairs" and strenu-
GUS voices. glanced above, and beheld the
awful regarding silence of the sky, strewn
thick with stars. The popping of corks
within continued, and the confined odor of
smoke and wines sickened me, until, at last,
the thunder in the streets declined, the
laughter in the adjoining rooms subsidized.
the shouts lapsed into unintelligible mutter
| ings. Bonnetheau and his companions were
{ sinking into oblivion, and a faint gray
suffused the windows. I walked to the door
| and looked in. Hippolyte sat at a table, his
| head on his arm, one hand clasped about I
| shivered goblet, where it had fallen. His
linen was stained and there was an ooze of
wine about his lips The color in his cheeks
was high and steady, his irresolute mouth
was parted blankly. l could have wept over
my Jerusalem, thus fallen for the hundredth
time. Alas poor Hippolytel He moved
slightly, and brushed the fragments of glass
to the floor with his hand saw the blood
| start from his fingers and went to bind them
up. As I stopped to wind the linen about
them, l heard him mutter Miss Whipple',
name
Poor fool! He was never farther from her
than at that moment
Six months ran around, and again I was
seated in the somber salon of Choisy Miss
Whipple was looking meditatively at the
floor, and presently gave me the result of
her thoughts: 81 shall never believe in NJ
Bonnetheau again"
"Ah, he is not SO bad as he seens,n de-
clared wondering how he had contrived to
make a faux pas.
''He reminds me of Lucifer,n she contin-
ued. q believed Hippolyte would be pleased
with the compliment and resolved to tell
him of it, Because" she explained, The
seems to have fallen from great height. He
cannot always have beer so low, and yet he
is prouder than Lucifer, for he never men
lions his former state. 1t is only vulgar peo-
pie who proclaim what they have been, on.
what they have had in the past. NJ Bonne-
, theau is not vulgar. Once he asked me-
here she examined the filagree on her wrist
attentively y 'nn-
''Good heavens, ma'la 'selle what did he
ask you?n
She smiled and blushed profuse,y. eve
have provincial expression in America we
say, he proposed to me-
'And you, ma'm'selle,' I seized the legs of
my chair, ''what reply did you maker
81 said 1 had no faith in him, and that I
must have unbounded confidence in the
principles of the man to whom I intrusted
my life"
'And probably you have no faith IN any
man. I remarked gloomily. Life leaves
young girls in that plight sometimes, if they
chance to have seen much of the world
She touched my hand timidly. at has
not left me quite SO yet"
! caught the little hand-I, Bonnethau's
COUCH slave, drudge!-for there was that in
hel' gentle, lifted eyes which 1 could not mis-
take said-but never mind.
That night I flung open the door of Hip
polytes apartment with Napoleonic mien
and lips bursting to commit their secret, but
the sight of him silenced me- He was bend
ing over box and smoothing something
yellow in his hands. The object was hair, a
long and shining tress
He looked up as | entered, the expression
of his face gray and SPECIFICS.
"Where did you get that?" demanded,
recognizing, as I thought, something in the
shade and texture of the tress.
II cut it Off"
"Cut it off! When and wherei'
"Once when she stood before me and was
not otherwise engaged. Where? think is
was at the ball of the American minister
His voice was subdued pathetic.
'Hippolyte,n I said, tenderly "Hippolyte,
your blessing Paris contains no happier
man than your coach tonight. Miss Whip
pler-
Eyes, yes" he interrupted, rising; "the
mills of the gods grind with exactness. Bless
you, Hendrix, bless you!"
He walked to the hearth and back again.
There was kindling light in his eyes Sud
denly he faced about with, II am inclined to
think this iargon of Comics a sham.n
Gas you have always done," observed.
cat least it has now served to keep me OF
the rocks, 1t is huge balloon, a spectacle
at which the French love to gaze but it is 60
ing to burst some day, and you will live to
see the farce-Comte and his disciples flying
out of the basket and coming down as inane
as the stick of a rocket. In the meantime
we look down and see what is under us! Oh,
heaven" He shut his eyes, and throwing off
the hand had laid on his arm he drained a
glass of cognac to the dregs.
''Heres to oblivion" he cried, and waved
his trembling arm, and then and there felt
a suffocating sense of something about to
overwhelm me, which could not stay.