The Caucasian. (Clinton, N.C.) 188?-1913, 1889-05-16

SaAANs +AAsJf ASS@4 IA 1stf 1Au ftlGSE1u1as,
she did not observe tina, he was silent
and distrait
VIII you come with ne into the
libraryI" he asked, as they were leav-
ing the dining room II have news
Of importance 10 communicates"
Secretly wondering, she followed
him, aud sank into q huge chair with
the apparent intention Of going 10
sleep. His first words awakened her
thoroughly.
Il RECEIVED today letter from your
father He is in this country. He is
on his way here Republics, he says,
are not less ungrateful than individ-
uals. His warfare against Napoleon,
his long exile, have counted as moth
ing. The French republic has ignored
his claims rs completely as the pre-
tensions of Chambord. He has quilted
France forever"
20, my father! When will he reach
here7" cried Toinetto, excitedly.
THE letter was delayed. He may
arrive tomorrow"
They were both silent for few
moments. Then Col. Graham rose
and stood before her.
''Toinette," he began huskily, ''he
writes that he will make his home in
New York; that he will take you from
my home to his"
He paused abruptly, and waited, as
if for answer. None came.
He continued; 1T is twelve years
since he gave YOU into my charge. He
thought that he could return to France
where he fondly dreamed that free
dom was at last triumphant-partici
pate in the organization of the repub-
lie, apd, in few months, send for
you. How he has been disappointed
from day to day, and from year to
year, | leave him to tell you. Unjust
tell you that since you came into my
home you have been its sunshine. l
was a weary and disappointed man. l
had, after the manner of impetuous
youth, tested the quality of humanity,
and concluded it was all bad. You,
dear, innocent child, restored my
faith. Toinette, | cannot let you go.
Surely | have the first claim now.
Your father is q stranger. His heart
always belonged to France; mine is in
your keeping"
Toinetto was strangely moved. "You
forget" she faltered; "consanguinity
has rights
Il forget nothing" he said make
my right greater than his. Marry
me, Toinette. All that 1 am, all that
l have, is yours"
1t was an unfortunate speech. Mrs.
Etynge's innuendoes REQUIRED 10 her
with renewed significance. Sho rose
and turned away from his pleading
eyes, his outstretched arms.
Il thank you," she said softly, ''for
the honor you would confer, but it
cannot be, and she passed out of his
sight.
The next day her father came; a
worn and weary and shabby old man,
who responded absently to her caress-
es, and then seemed to forget her
while he poured out his thanks to Col.
Graham.
.Toinette listened in amazement,
which soon changed to humiliation and
distress. This broken spirited old man
in threadbare habiliments was the pa
triot hero Of her dreams, who was to
return in triumph and take her away
to some grand chateau of beautiful
France; and what was he saying2
Graham, how can l ever thank
you-God knows l can never hope to
repay you-for what you have done
for my childl All that can promise
is that she shall no longer be a tax on
your generosity. have obtained work
as translator; l will take her to New
York, and there we will make home
b,,,,, blo onD,rrh l,,f ,1aoonf,,1 n
am sick of conflict"
She has not been q tax" said Col.
| Graham, earnestly. Il am in her
debt for happiness conferred-and-
and she is not accustomed to poverty.
thought was preparing her to share
q brilliant destiny with you. I've
owe it to her not to let her suffer from
this mistake and disappointment St
Etienne, either leave her with me OF
let me settle part of my superabun
dance on her. | have no ties; it would
only be anticipating. What l have
will be hers at my death, anyway"
What have you to say, my childg'
asked the exile of Toinette.
Il think" said Toinette, unsteadily,
that | had better go with you, father
but do not think, she added, turning
toward Col Graham, with tear suf
fused eyes and quivering lips, that
am ungrateful. In the last few mo
ments | have seen the past as | never
did before | have realized that you
arc the best, the kindest, the mobiles
of men. May heaven bless and reward
you for your generosity and patienc,
with one SO selfish and thoughtless a.
Ilavc been"
In vain were Col. Graham's en-
treaties Toinette and her father re
solutcly refused to be his guests but ;
few days longer; they refused hi
proffered aid; and she, though will
an aching heart, now that she knew
the value o: what she was putting
away from her, again refused to be
Col C:ahanl's wife. It was only pity
that prompted him, she told herself.
In New York she took up the bur
den of existence for the first time. She
seldom saw Col. Graham, though he
often spent the evenings with hel
father She hid herself in her owl
poor little room. She was careful
never to pass her old home, or gc
where she would be likely to meet hel
Old aysociates. Two or three fount
her out and came TO her with words O
: love and appreciation, but the major
ity, like Mrs. Etyngc, barely recog
nizcd her if brought face to face, ant
ignored her when possible. She caret
less than she thought she would; sh'
even confessed TO herself that sh'
would be happy with her simple ef
forts at housekeeping, her few musi
pupils and painstaking copies of he
fathers translations, If her heart ha.
not ached with the knowledge that
had awakened to love too late, ant
after she had put away what NIGH
have been its treasure.
One day her sorrows seemed almos
too heavy 10 bear. She was waitini
in certain patrician music room TO
her pupil when an older member @
the family and O friend entered an
continued their conversation ~ithou
deigning to notice her.
Have you heard that Mrs. Etyng
is going 10 marry that handsome Co
| GrohaDlP" asked one of them