The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1888-09-30

VIC WHOic N6Qlb u ucaNcu was lillcQ WAth d
dim lustre, which quietly penetrated every
thing in this serene night. Slowly they
walked along on the borders Of the Chew
rotte. which crossed the park, but it was no
longer the rapid rivulet rushing over peb
ply descent; 1t was a quiet, languid brook,
gliding along through clumps OF trees. Un-
der this mass Of luminous vapor, between
the bushes which seemed to battle and float
therein, it was like an Elysian stream which
unfolded itself before them.
Angelique soon resumed her gay chatter
ing,
on your arm.n
Felicisn, touched by such artless, frank
simplicity, listened with delight as she
talked unrestrainedly, concealing nothing,
but telling all her inmost thoughts, as she
opened her heart to him. Why should she
even think of keeping anything backs She
had never harmed any one, SO she had only
good things to say.
"Ah, my dear child. it is who ought to
be exceedingly grateful to you, inasmuch as
you are willing to love me q little, in SO
sweet a way. Tell me once more how much
you love me. Tell me exactly what you
thought when you found out at last who
really was.n
But with a pretty, impatient movement
she interrupted him.
mo, no; let us talk of you, only of you.
Am l really of any consequences? At all
events, what matters it who am, or what
lthinkl For the moment you are the only
one of importance"
And keeping as near him as possible, going
more slowly along the sides of the enchanted
river. she questioned him necessarily, wish
ing to learn everything about him, of his
childhood, his youth, and the twenty years
he had passed away from his father.
II already know that your mother died
when you were an infant and that you grew
up under the care of an uncle who is q
clergyman. / also know that
monseigneur refused to see you again"
Then Felicien answered; speaking in a
very low tone, with voice that seemed as
If 1t came from the far away past.
"Yes, my father idoliZed my mother, and
it seemed to him as il were guilty, since
my birth had cost her her life. Ny uncle
brought me up in entire ignorance OF my
family, harshly, too, as IL had been a poor
child confded to his care. had no idea of
my true position until very recently. 1t is
scarcely two years, in fact, since it was re-
vealed to me. But I was not at all sur
prised in hearing the truth; it seemed as if
had always half realized that great for
tune belonged to me. All regular work
wearied me, was good for nothing except
to run about the fields and amuse myself.
At last | took great fancy for the painted
windows Of our little church."
Apgelique interrupted him by laughing
gaily, and he joined her in her mirth for a
moment.
II became workman like yourself.
had fully decided to earn my living by paint
ing on glass, and was studying for that pur-
pose, when all this fortune poured down
upon me. My father was intensely disap-
pointed when my uncle wrote him that l
was a good-for-nothing fellow, and that
would never consent to enter into the SER
vice of the church. 1t had been his ex-
pressed wish that l should become clergy
man; perhaps he had an idea that in so
doing could atone for the death of my
mother. He became, however, reconciled
at last, and wished for me to be here and
remain near him. Ali how good it is to
live, simply to live" he exclaimed. Eyes,
to live, to love, and to be loved in return. :"
This trembling cry, which resounded in
the clear night air, vibrated with the
earnest feeling of his healthy youth. 1t
was full of passion. of sympathy for his
dead mother, and of the intense ardor he had
thrown into this, his first love, born of
mystery. 1t filed all his spirit, his beauty,
his loyalty, his ignorance, and his earnest
desire of life.
Like you, he continued, 81 was indeed
expecting the unknown, and the evening
when you first appeared at the window, I
also recognised you at once. Tell me all
that you have ever thought, and what you
were in the habit of doing in the days that
have passed"
But again she refused, saying gently:
mo. Speak only of yourself. l am
eager to know every petty incident of your
life, so please keep nothing back. In that
way l shall realize that you belong to me
and that l love you in the past as well as in
tie present"
She never would have been fatigued in
listening to him as he talked of his life, but
was ID state of joyous ecstacy in thus be-
coming thoroughly acquainted with him,
adoring him like a little child at the feet of
some saint Neither of them wearied of
repeating the same things; how much they
loved each other and how dearly they were
beloved in return. The same words re-
turned constantly to their lips, but they al
ways seemed new, as they assumed unfor-
seen, Unreasonable depths of meaning.
Their happiness increased as they thus made
known the secrets of their hearts and
fingered over the music of the words that
passed their lips. He confessed to her the
charm her voice had always been to him, SO
much so that as soon as he heard it he be-
came at once her devoted slave. =
She acknowledged the delicious fear she al
ways had at seeing his pale face flush at the
slightest anger or displeasure
They had now left the misty banks of the
Chevrotte, and arm in arm they entered
under the shadows of the great elm trees.
"Ohl this beautiful garden" whispered
AngeliGue, happy to breathe in the fresh
ness which fell from the trees. For years
| have wished to enter it; and now l am
here with vou--yes, am here"
1t did not occur to her to ask him where
he was leading her. but she gave herself up
to his guidance, under the darkness of these
trees. The ground was soft
under their feet; the archway of leaves
above them was high like the vaulted cell
ing of a church. There was neither sound
nor breath, only the beating Of their own
hearts.
At length lie pushed open the door of lit
tie pavilion, and said to her:
go in; : this is my home"
1t was there that his father had seen fit to
install him all to himself, in this distant cor
ner of the park On the first floor there
was hall, and one very large room, which
was now lighted by great lamp. Above
was a complete little apartment.
"You can see for yourself" he continued,
smllingly, ''that you are at the house of an
artisan. This is my shop"
1t was working room, indeed the caprice
of wealthy young man, who amused him
self in his leisure hours by painting on
glass. He had rebound the ancient methods
of the thirteenth century, so that he could
fancy himself as being one Of the primitive
glass workers, producing masterpieces with
the poor, unfinished means Of the older
time. An ancient table answered all his
nirDoses II was coated with moist DOW