Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-06-06

th0 6lrl.wife who had fled from her husband
 home and driven him out to the warfare ths
 vas devastating tho land, and widowIn
 hearth and homo in cvery quiet village. a
 well as in every populous town. l The story of Rose Michel lost nothing b,
 repetition. 1t was sweet to the gossipers
 who had hated Ninette for her radiant beaut
 and her graceful girlish ways. It was re
 ceived by old and young alike with an uvid
 ity only & cond to the expression of entir
 belief in its truth; and had Ninette appeare, in her old homo there would not have bee,
 one friendly voice to give her welcome oa face to smile on her again.
 But tho never came.
 How, or why. or where she had ded, non, knew, though rumor invented Q hundred different tales on the subject, each equally removed from the truth. Meanwhile, Pierr, Leroux lay ill and helpless in the hospita ward at Metz. and the old, simple minded faithful woman ordered the household anG attende to his mill and his crops as best she could. and spun on untiringly in her nook ir the deserted Kitchen. waiting always for 6 step that never came-for a voice that nevc, greeted her.
 1t was well that she did not know he was a prisoner in the hands of the enemy. Had she done so she would have run all risks, and with her bundle slung across her back and her wooden shoes on her feet, have tramped untiringly through the country far and wide until she reached his side, there to nurse and tend him back to health. But of his fate she was in total ignorance. for scant news ever reached that quiet little village, and though terrible events were happening and the fate Of Q whole nation was at issue, they spun and hood and reaped their harvests and imagined every soldier. son and lover hero, and looked for his triumphant return with the rising of every sun that ushered in a new days birth.
 The whole town of Berlin was on fete.
 News of great victory had been tele- graphed. The fate ofths war seemed to have declared itself in favor of the Fatherlan,.. IL, luminatioas and rejoicinEs made the city gay and festive. as 1t had not long been. Bursts of music sounded ever on the air. The ''Wacht am Rhein" and Nun danket ale Gott," arose loud and clear In thanksgiving strains for tho victory that had been so prod. igal of great and glorious re- ults.
 In small room in one of the quietest streets g girl was sitting, orouched by the etovo. with her hands clasped tight over her ears. as if to shut out the triumphant riot oi the populace without-the deaiening clash ol ringing bells and beat of drums, and glad gay strains of music which filled the autumn night. Tho door opened suddenly. and g man eutered-his step light. his face radiant.
 "What, Ninette. moping there and all the CyQv h0 1o{ your cloak and come out with me. It is sight to do one's heart good-it will cheer you to see some fun for once." The girl raised her dropping head and looked at him with quiet scorn,
 You can see 1t and be gladr' she asked him as If in wonder. Well, I have not yet learned to forget that French blood runs in my veins-that 1t is the death of my country. mon this victory celebrates"
 "Pooh! you ought to have forgotten aA that by this time." he laughed carelessly; "what Is the use of lamenting over such things7 France has had her day-I knew 1t and"
 Deserted her cause when she most needed all her sons," the girl interrupted with quiet scorn.
 Ills face glowed with sudden anger.
 "It ts not for you to taunt me with that" he said fercely "have you forgotten-"
 'I forget nothing" she said wearily. "I wish I could. If had your memory might also have your capability ot enjoyment At present have neither"
 "You are surely not foolish enough to rs. gret already3" he questioned with growing impatienoe. Heavens what do women
  where you were buried alive. Atinflnite risk reached the Prussian forces, made use of the opportunities discovered, and the in. formation was able to bestow, and now here we are, settled in peace and comfort and safety. You are In far better position than ever you could have been as the wife of a Norman miller. and yet"
 And yet repent and regretl Is not that what you were about to say2'
 "It Is. What the deuce you want I cannot imagine"
 'I suppose not. I should think the day when you can understand my feelings or realize that treachery and safety are not sym onymous terms in my mind, must be very far away indeed"
 "Where doyou pick up your fine speechesf' he snecred. "Did that gAnt-limbed boor whom you fooled so prettily bestow some of his learning upon you2 You are an apt pu- pill, must say"
 "I thought his name was not to be men. toned between us," she cried, dercely.
 He laughed.
 ''If you keep to your part of tho bargain, my pretty ono. will do the same." She rose from her seat, and faced him with . certain proud disdain that was altogether new to her. elf you would only enjoy yourself in your own way. and leave me in peacer she cried. ''Can you not understand that my way of must necessarily be yours also now?" She was silent. For moment he surveyed her, half- proudly. .half-conpassionately, as she stood there before hila with downcast eyes and the dim light of the lamp shed on her bright soft hair, which was no longer hidden by the peasants cap of old. "You might be happy enough. if you choose" he resumed, seeing sho still re- mained speechless. Bad as times are. can 1 still make enough to k0en vOu as n l,lv-vou