The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1889-08-21

egade of your family, the first to bring
shame on our honored house What PEN
itence can now reconcile you with an out
ragged church, what tears of agony wipe
out the stain? Go back to the convent
Seek the divine pardon and peace OF mind
in bitterest expiation--"
Just then, ere vet the words had utterly
psralyzed the listeners, a rustic of silken
skirts was heard on the staircase. One
low-breathed, passionate word only escaped
Etiennette' s-"Mother" Once more she
moved forward as if expecting an en-
brace, again to draw back. This lady,
dressed like a bride in rich white satin,
occupying the mistresss place, was hardly
older than herself. Her father then had
become a widower; had married again.
"Be thankful that your mother has
been spared this shame" the old man
added. ''She went to her rest fondly as
surfing herself of her child's pure inter-
cessions / attempt no force, remember;
you are free to choose between the only
safe and honorable asylum open to you,
or-beggary. A man cannot dover his
daughter twice, cannot receive under his
roof renegade, perjurer."
He glanced suspiciously at the sad, dig
nifed figure beside the shrinking girl.
"And you, young sir, was the scathing
ACBiOO1. 1CdlCL III Jul Wv II COAoNAOANO
for the need of such services. Ask your
self what recompense should await the
palterer with the most solemn ordinances,
the calculating sacrilegist bent upon gain.
have no more to say"
With naughty wave of the hand he
dismissed them, and but Just in time.
Already the guests hidden to welcome
home bride and bridegroom had begun
to arrive. AS the dazed, sorrow-stricken
pair now retraced their steps, they met
carriage after carriage bearing visitors TO
the chateau in gala dress. What a con-
trast was presented by these gay, careless
| newcomers and the castaways passing
out On entering the park a few minutes
before, Etiennette had recalled dozen
familiar features with transport OF recog-
milton. The beautiful home had seemed
| her own once more. Now, turned like a
beggar from her fathers door, she walked
with downcast eyes and white face, never
| looking back.
When they were on the high road, Ellie
babe her sit down, and opened his wallet.
| Let us rest awhile, let us eat something,
| he said, with affected cheerfulness. Truth
! to tell, the blow had fallen no less crush
| ingly on himself Might not this escapade,
as it seemed momentarily to him, prove
his ruin? He possessed nothing but his
| good name, the name of an honest work
man. That, he felt, he had jeopardized
| past help. He could not return home in
search of employment. Whittier, then,
should he bend his steps?
But good feeling, a sense Of protective
ness, and manly self-reliance soon got the
better of these dreary thoughts. And
bitter as was his disappointment, atfec-
| tionate as was his participation OF her
! own, he felt glad that their intercourse
! had not vet come to an end. This friend
ship with a gentle, clinging, sensitive
woman was the first real intimacy of his
life.
Come" he urged, trying to make her
| smile through her tears, 'if we are not in
vited to a banquet, we have at least the
remains of our breakfast. Just a morsel
OF bread and a sip of wine to please me "
mot vet; my tears would choke me il
I tried to swallow" she said. 81 have,
| then, no father; hearts are turned to stone
outside the convent walls. But it is not
so much for myself l grieve. | can earn
my bread as other women do; have not
forgotten the little l learned at school.
But, oh, it will be long, long before l can
repay your sacrifices, and that good peas
ant woman whose very clothes l wear ~
~ have your cross still; If of pure gold,
it will bring you money for pressing
needs" he said. "And IN see what |
have left of my own. Gould 1 get to
| Paris"
"You will not leave meat least, not
vet ?" she cried, clinging to him, and re-
fusing to take back her trinket. ''If left
to myself, who knows, perhaps want
would drive me back to the cloisterp
Just then, when, with dependency al
heart, each was trying to cheer and
soothe the other, the bent figure of an an.
cient woman hobbled up. She was
dressed in the Alsatian costume-bright
| kerchief, white stomacher, black skirt
bordered with green, and an enormous
knot of broad black ribbon surmounting
| the small yellow, wrinkled face.
Don't look at me don't speak to me,
| child; it would break my heart" she said
! standing over the amazed girl. "You
must remember your nurse, your old Lis.
beth. All! l went on my knees, begging
you not to take the veil; and the death
knell that sounded over you was death
knell to me. l had no one to love me
when my bright Etiennette was shut up in
the cloister, dead, buried; dead and
| buried, so she seemed"
She fumbled in her pocket and brought
| OUT q TtlICulO VI anu uO SIoh4pOO NOiNO'
with a silver clasp.
''Look you, darling" she whispered, as
she leaned on her stick, II shall have a
soft bed to lie on, dainties to eat as long as
l live; and when I'm dead, never fear
masses in plenty will be said for Lisbeth's
soul. But my master has welded young
wife; my boarding shall never go to the
child of stranger. Here, my hearts
love, hide it quickly. The bag hold:
5000 francs as | live little dowry fol-
YOU No, don't kiss me; don't let me
hear your sweet voice. l am too old tc
cry. We have parted-but there's the
money"
"And whose should it be but yours p
said Etiennette when she had done weep
ing. MY true, now my only friend, poorly
are you repaid even thus"
She thrust the treasure into his un will.
| ing fingers, but it was long before he
could stammer out a word of thanks. To
the ingenious mind of the young peasant
| Lisbeth's gift was nothing short of down
right fortune. With 5000 francs wary
man could start as a colonist in Algeria, OF
for the matter of that set up as a market
! gardener or dairy-farmer in France. Five
thousand francs would make man Of
him anywhere.
But another conviction sent the blush
to his manly brow, and made his heart
! beat quickly. He was a poor man no
| longer, and his companion was no longer