Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1889-03-07

ten years that had passed since their parting;
and, as he listened and answered, monsieur
asked himself whether he had dreal..ad Of
that beautiful blush.
lie learned that Aunt Letita still rocked,
knit, and dozed at the Grove; that the gold
en-haired child was Berthas motherless
niece, the daughter OF Henry Clayton, whose
wife had been dead for nearly a year; and
that Bertha herself was now on her way 10
spend the rest Of the summer al the old home
stead which he remembered 50 tenderly.
And monsieur asked Bertha kindly.
"Mademoselle, ] need rest; and in F.,
in the home where / was once so happy, II Is
my hope TO find IT,"
Then you viii come to the Grove, mon
sieur? You viii be our guest2 You will let
me care for your
But Monsieur Max drew up his slender fig
ure proudly, though his eyes were very ten
der, as he answered: Not now, mademol-
selie; not YETI" and Bertha did not urge him
nor ask the meaning of his strange reply.
SO the old days seemed TO come again TO
the Grove. There were again the mornings
In the old school room, now Berthas study
and the pleasan est room in the house, as
mons ieur and She concuTed in saying. Nor
was the term study misnomer. Much
work had been done within those four walls;
and the dark, bri ght eyes Of Monsieur Max
often shOne with pleasure TO see how the
girlsh mind he had helped to train had
grown and DEVELOPED. She was now, If not
fully his Intellectual equal, at least able to
comprehend and synpathize with him; and
when one has lived alone and lonely, as had
Monsieur Max, one perceyes the charm Of
sympathy from such eyes and life.
Happy, indeed, were the mornings In the
old schoo-room; the drives and rambles
along the shady rOse-lTiumed country roads,
and through wood ana meadow; happy, too,
the evenings in the great, square parlor,
where monsieur and Aunt Letita contested
the honors Of the chess-bOard in many hard
fcHgit cattle while Bertha played softly on
the worn, old piano. But happest of all,
perhaps, were mOnsieur's walks to and from
the little tOwn-walks which were not lone
~, since Memory and Hope accompanied
him; nor desoate, since Fancy had full per
mission to deck his path with her most brill
liant flowers.
And perhaps the fragrance Of these still
hung about him and beWildered him one aft
enoon, when he found Bertha sitting, with
her embroidery, under a great oak which had
strayed from the forest into the old-fashion-
ed garden.
Monsieur, you look dazed-somnambu.
listic" she said, as he silently took the seat
beside her.
"Somnambulstc? All indeed, l have
walked hther in sweet dream, mademoi-
selle perhaps only to be awakened"
"But is not truth better than dream, mon
sieurW
She had stolen one swift glance at his face,
and her cheek was crimson, her voice tremu-
ous. Monsieur Max answered her slowly
and sadly.
80 say the wise; but when the dream is
so bright and beaut full it is hard to be a phil
1sopher May l tell it YOU mademoiselle%'
She bowed her head in silence, while her
fingers shook over her work as though the
dainty silks had been iron cables.
1T began, | can scarce remember how
many years ago, said Monsieur Max, with
my love for a little child. ! saw her, 50 good,
so beautiful, and so defensclcss; and | VOW
ed to my own soul TO stand between her and
harm, to train and teach her in all that was
good, until could resign her to other hands,
which might be worthier but could not be
more faithful But the moment came when
If | would truly keep my vow, must seem
to desert my trust. And kept it; left my
little one my child, my pupil, and for ten
long years never looked upon her beautiful
/ face Then l returned, to lind her still more
noble more beautiful, more angel-like than
I-eyen had ever dreamed. And-sht
was still freel while IL was also free; free
/ to say TO her; Bertha, love, life of my life,
am old, poor, and unworthy, but / love you
with love that can never falter or grow
cold Is that love so precious as to make me
in your eyes, the equal of other mon"
''NOw, mopsourw said Bertha, with 6
smile which brought quick flush to the daJi
cheek of Monsieur Max. He caught hel
hands in his, while the "'broideTy worA
wrought about with divers colors' slipped
UNDECIDED to the ground.
what sayest thou, my best beloyed%' ht
murmured
81 was but a child when You left me, mon
sielr, yet knew telt-as for thinking yot
the equal of other men, every one knows,
said Bertha. faltering under the rapture II
his dark eyes, that l have always declared
though never knew why till you came back
that there was nobody-uo, not in all The
world-nobody like Monsieur Max"
X. z. w.