The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1888-09-02
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 2. 1888.

ness. She cried nervously, without reason,
and hid her head in her pillow that no one
might hear her.
Yes, now she loved him; she loved him
enough to be willing to die for him. But
whyf But howl She could not tell, she
never would know; simply from her whole
heart came the cry that she did indeed love
him. The light had come to her at last
this new, overpowersng joy overwhelmed
her like the most ardent rays of the sun.
For a long time her tears flowed, but not
from sorrow. On the contrary, she was
filed with an inexplicable confusion Of hap
piness that was now indefinable, regretting
now more deeply than ever, that she had not
made sconfidant of Hubertine. To-day
her secret burdened her, and she made an
earnest VOW to herself that henceforth she
would be as cold as an icicle toward Fe-
licien, and would suffer everything rather
than allow him to see her tenderness. He
should never know it. To love him, merely
to love him, without even acknowledging
it, that was the punishment, the trial she
must undergo to pardon her fault 1t would
be to her in reality delicious suffering she
thought of the martyrs of whom she had
read in the Golden Legend, and it seemed
to her that she was their sister in torturing
herself in this way, and that her guardian
angel, Agnes would look at her hencefor-
ward with sadder sweeter eyes than ever.
The following day, Angelique finished the
mitre. She had embroidered with split six
light as gossamer, the little hands and feet,
which were the only points of white, naked
flesh that came out from the royal mantle
of golden hair. She perfected the face with
all the delicacy of the plreet lily, wherein
the gold seemed like the blood In the veins
under the delicate, siIken skin. And this
face, radiant as the sun, was turned heaven
ward, as the youthful saint was borne up
ward by the angels toward the distant hori-
zon of the blue plain.
When Felicien entered that day, he ex-
claimed with admiration;
"Oh, how exactly she looks like you"
1t was an involuntary expression; an &C.
acknowledgement of the resemblance be had
purposely put in the design. He realized
the fact, after he had spoken, and blushed
deeply.
THAT is indeed true. my little one; she
has the same beautiful eyes that you have,
said Hubert, who had come forward to ex
anime the work.
Hubertine merely smiled now, having
made similar remark many days before,
and she was surprised and grieved when she
heard Angelique reply in a harsh, disagree
able tone of voice, Ike what she sometimes
had in her fits of obstinacy years ago.
my beautiful eyes! Why will you make
fun of me in that way9 know as well as
you do that am very ugly"
Then, getting up, she shook out her dress
overacting her assumed character Of q
harsh, avaricious girl.
"Ah, at lastl 1t is really finishedi | am
thankful, for it was zoo much of task, too
heavy burden on my shoulders. Do you
know, would never undertake to make an
other one for the same price~
Felcien listened to her in amazement
Could it be that after all she still cared only
for moneys Had he been mistaken when
he Thought at times she was SO exquisitely
tender, and SO passionately devoted to her
artistic work2 Did she in reality wish for
the pay her labor brought her, and was she
so Indifferent that she rejoiced at the com
pletion of her task, wishing neither to see,
nor to hear of it againf For several days
he had been discouraged as he sought in
vain for some pretext of continuing, later
on, visits that gave him such pleasure. But
alas! it was plain that she did not care fol-
him in the least, and that she never would
love him. His suffering was so great that
he grew very pale and could scarcely
speak.
"But, mademoiselle, will you not make uE
the mitreY
mo, mother can do it so much better thar
can. am too happy at the thought that
| have nothing more to do with it,"
90 you uOb llh0 buc WOIh WLuCu YOU
do so wellP
II? | do not like anything in the world
Hubertine was Obliged to speak to her
sternly, and tell her to be quiet. She ther
begged Felicien to be SO good as to pardon
her nervous child, who was little weary
from her long-continued application. She
added that the mitre would be at his disposal
at an early hour on the following morning.
1t was the same as if she had asked him to
go away, but he could not leave. He stood
and looked around him in this old work
room, filed with shade and with peace, and
it seemed to him as if he were being driven
from paradise. He had spent so many
sweet hours there in the illusion of his
brightest fances, that it was like tearing
his very heart-strings to think all this was
at an end What troubled him the worst
was his inability to explain matters, and
that he could only take with him such a
fearful uncertainty. At last he said good
day. resolved to risk everything at the first
opportunity rather than not to know the
truth.
Scarcely had he closed the door when Hp-
bert asked:
What is the matter with you, my dear
child2 Are you ills
mo, indeed 1t is simply that am tired
of having that young man here. do not
wish to see him again"
Then Hubertine added:
every well; you will not see him again.
But nothing should ever prevent one from
being polite"
Angelique, making some trivial excuse,
hurried up to her room as quickly as posi-
BILE. Then she gave tree course to her tears
All, how intensely happy she was, yet how
she sutfereil Her poor, dear beloved; he
was sad enough when he found be must
leave herl But she must not forget that she
atad made vow to the saints, that although
she loved him better than life, he should
never know it.
ITO DE CONTINUED