St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1889-08-04
from the French.

racked by shivers, with closed eyes and
ready to sink; then she passed into an
inner chamber and looked about her.
F A repository of love, this little nest in
the midst of feveriSh Paris. Flowers
blOssomed about her, cushions were
piled at random upon heavy carpet;
| to the left piano, at the end of it a
| columned bed, broad, luxurious, silk
hung and covered with lace and satin;
o Inside, the twilight silence of the
| Avenue Kleber.
| + The Countess Fernando de Ryant still
remained erect, her sombre gaze wan
dering over these familiar things, in
| each of which lived a memory; and
| these mem cries, one by one, sank into
| her heart. This woman-tall. supple,
a brunette with eyes of strange lurid
| green-waS
| LIVING IN 1NCARNATE ANGUISH.
| Without stirring, still upright. still
| with that fixed. answering gaze, she
Ill urmured half aloud:
And he? What will he respond to
me? What answer when tell him?'
aFive minutes, perhaps, passed thus,
| dragging, heavy; then a KEY grated in
lock. She started. An inStantane-
GUS change swept over her features
women are marvellous condolences
and when Henri Servain, a second later,
entered the room and clasped her in his
arms the was happily smiling.
One would have said that these two
| beings had forgotten the world in the
ardor of this careSs. Forgotten the
world? Oh, no; this woman suffered
too much to forget; she suffered, and
had forgotten nothing, even as she
seated herself upon the divan and he
knelt at her feet.
! 1T has been century, Henri" she
said to him, tenderly, "a century since
| saw you. and yet saw you but yes
| terday. Tell me that you love me; tell
me again.
| Il adore you'll
More than year ago?''
Ear morer'
"a year, already! Twelve months
| only. and am jealous! But you have
| so many temptations about you, Henri;
| there ares so many others to whom your
music speaks as passionately as it
| speaks to me, so many others who give
| you h0nage-it may take you from me-"
| He did not see or feel the bitterness
in face or voice; he did not suspect it
he repeated simply:
II ADORE-YOUw
And without counting" she re-
| Sumed, "the theateIS where you are
forced to go. Apropos of that. your
opera, the rehearsal of it, has it gone
well to-day?'
every we'll"
+ She began to laugh little.
You do not know it," said she, "but
Jeanne has been to see me again: she
tells me that she who sings the premier
role-how do you call her, your de-
butante"
Louise Planter"
Eyes. Louise Planter. En-. bien!
Jeanne tells me that she is in love with
| you. and that yOu-fOund it very well.
Yes, very we'll. She wished to make
me suffer, you see, and naturally, for
Jeanne is my best friendn'
+ Henri turned away his eyes now;
this handsome man, with frank and
open gaze, was averSe to lying.
Il am sure that you have never de-
;ceived me,p continued Fernando, ''nev-
'erthless. Henri L repeat 1t, am always
afraid; tell me, you have not paid at
tention to this Singer?'
tBut-no."
~ "Truly?"
"TruIy."
Z. ''And you know that l love you for
as for your talent Give me. then, your
word of honor that you do not lie, and L
will believe your'
II give you my word of hOnor.'
J "4ou give me that, your word of
honor"' and she sprang to her feet with
gesture of Scorn,
A FURIOUS AND JEALOUS WOMAN NOW,
her mask of tenderness thrown aside,
but still superbly beautiful in her pain
and shame. 'Cowardw she cried,
coward, coward. You are or have
been the lover of this girl, and have
written to her-here, see you the letter.
Had you told me the truth, l
loved you SO we'll l'G have par
dOned you, surprise of the
senses. But ycu-you have sworn
You have lied like lackey taken i'm a
fault. And I-have l ever lied to you?
Have you not known everything? My
miserable, enforced marriage; my temp
tations. vaneuished until the day | en-
countered you? You for whom / lave
cast aside my false and worldly life; for
whom l riSked everything! | am COM.
promised; you know it; all Paris sus-
poets my love for yOu-my husband, my
friends, in short, all the world! 1t was
inevitable; it was natural; you loved
me, and II loved you; what mattered
the world to me-tO me, stepped II this
loveH
Henri checked her with a fierce,
bruSque gesture.
'.Eh beln. yeS!" cried he. 81 have
lied to you like coward and lackey,
as you say!
TWAS AFRAID OF LOSING YOU:
but love you, love you, | can not live
without you!''
whether you can or not, you will
find you must; for love you no longer,
l ScOrn yOu--adieu!"
He threw himself before the door, his
arms crossed. his face infiexible.
"Hear mel" he cried, land land you
know me-if you do not pardon me
will kill mySelfi'
She laughed aloud-a laughter cruel
and scornful.
"Kill yourself? Allons done! One
does these things, but one does not an
nounce them!"
Henri drew aside, coldly.
Pass yOu," he said, ''the way is
clearr'
AT his customary hour-that is, to-
ward Z o'clOck-M de Ryant returned
to his home.
'sThe comtesse," they told him. twas
suffering from headache and wished to
see no one."
He was vexed, and very much vexed
Nine. Ryant did not admit the head
ache, that too complaisant malady. The
bilious, you know, can never under
stand the nervousness of another. More
than this, and something extraordinary,
this
- KING OF FINANCE,
celebrated for his wines, his millions,
his racing studs aud his three well-pay-
| ing papers, was entirely alone this even
ing. His habitual court had failed him.
He went to dine at the club.
rs But the next day at breakfast, and
1.-the same at dinner, the response was
still unchanged.
| G ''Mme. la Comtesse continued i'll and
Itdesired to see no One."
~ Briefly, Fernando did not consent to
appear until the third day. then she was
I5pale, with circled eyes and broken by
forty-eight hours of moral and mental
anguish.