St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1890-06-29

mantle mind rejoiced in having real
love story to interest her, instead of the
make-belief productions of the clrcu-
lating library; and she was Ninette'S
firm ally. 1t was she who told Achille
when he might expect to meet his be-
loved in the meadows down by the mill,
and when walk to the Castle woods,
or on Glemsbury downs would find its
reward; and she proved most kindly
chaperone in these expeditions, finding
amusement for herself while the lovers
chatted undiSturbed.
On the day when Ninette's bonnet
had been so unceremoniously handled
by Miss Sarah, Achille had arranged
with his kind friend that they should
have stroll in the woods in the even
ing, and accordingly after tea, which
was such a feature among the meals OF
Glemsbury, Miss Susan, arrayed in her
newest bonnet, and Ninette, dressed in
a charming cambria frock, with hat
which would have made the fortune of
a discerning milliner, issued from the
red brick house, where the shutters
yelled the glories OF Miss Clay's boil
| nets, and took their way through the
! sleepy streets, rendered quieter than
usual by the 'early closing" which
! took place on that particular night OF
the week.
When Ninette and her aunt returned
from their walk they were met by the
! announcement that supper was ready,
| and that meal was partaken of during
dead silence, which Ninette knew was
the calm that preceded storm, and ac-
| cordingly she felt no surprise when, on
the removal of the cloth, her Aunt Sa-
rah inquired in her hardest tone.
"Where have you been tO-nightp
sin the castle woods with Achille Du-
| randi" was Ninette's unhesitating an
| swer as she lifted her gray eyes and
looked steadily at her aunt.
$50 expected was the rejoinder;
''but you have had your last walk with
that worthless. young man while you
live here. Do you understand? You
| are not to continue your acquaintance
with this Durand, or, If you do, you
leave my roof at once"
Il cannot will not promised" said
poor Ninette, as she rose from the
table, as she stood with her little hands
i grasping the back of one of the chairs;
sit is too much! Achille is worthy, he
is industrious, he has been my, friend,
| he was also my father why should
renounce him?'
81 have given my ORDERS" said Miss
Sarah, all the little flowers and bows
| with which her cap was adorned shak-
| ing with the vehemence of her anger,
while Miss Susan's stammering sem.
fences of depreciation and entreaty
| passed as unheeded as a puff of wind.
Go to your room," at last said Miss
Sarah. land tell ME your decision in the
morning; either you give up Durand or
you quit my house."
Nlnette retired to her attic, where she
| passed a miserable night; she was so
| lonely, and so friendless, that it was
small wonder that she felt the impossi-
bility of quitting the only shelter she
knew, and that although her pale
cheeks and swollen eyes testified to the
wretchedness she felt, yet when she en-
tered the little room where breakfast
was prepared, it was to say in voice
half choked with sobs:
II agree to obey you, Aunt Sarah,
| and will write and tell Achille can
never see him more. l have no home,
no refuge, but this, and l am forced to
do as you DESIRE"
And the poor child took her place at
the table, and endeavored to carry
brave front. Miss Susan did not at
| tempt to check her tears, and they
| rolled down her face and dropped into
her tea cup, but Miss Sarah vouchsafed
| no observation whatever, merely giving
loud sniff when Ninette'S faltering
! voice announced her determination. and
proceeding with her meal in her usual
manner.
After breakfast it seemed but small
addition to Ninette's troubles that her
aunt brought her large quantity of
put Oh bonnet intended for Miss Sphinx;
and she sat down, feeling numbed and
heart-broken, and piled up the adorn-
mentS in the fashion her aunt COM
handed. Miss Susan's fingers seemed
all wrong, and the mistakes she made
caused her sisters wrath to be poured
on her in one continual stream, so that
soon the sound of her Subdued sobs
added to the dreariness of the atmOS
phere pervading the workroom, which
was the back part of the shop.
Though the ancient town of Glems-
bury was small and quiet, it boosted
fashionable neighb0r in the shape of the
gay little health resort of Bemerton,
whence occasional visitors would drive
over in smart victorias or neat flies,
and after seeing the old church, the
| quaint hospital. and the remains of
the castle, would drive back through
| the High street, wondering how any
| one could be found to spend the year
through in such staid and sober town.
1t was not surprising, therefore, that
smar carriage should pull up before
the open door of Miss Clay's shop; but.
before that lady had time to eXclaim,
''Some one from Bemerton!" tall, ele-
| CANT parsonage walked up to the small
counter, and, scarcely noticing Miss
Sarah's salutation, said:
| 81 come for chapeau / saw two days
| ago. A bonnet so lovely!-a reve-a
cohfection of the most delicate! Of lace
and forget-me-nots! Where is it? Who
made it?'
| Ninette's white face flushed as she
| heard her handiWork thus mentioned,
and she listened anXlously for her aunt's
reply.
| by my niece; am sorry you should en-
courage her by admiring it!n
"Y0ur niece?" queried the imperious
stranger; where, then, is She?"
Ninette rose and modestly presented
herself.
1T was l, madame, who made the
bonnet" she said in French.
"You?" replied the stranger in the
same tongue. "Where, then. is it? Is
it sold?"
mo, madame" said Ninette, while
Miss Susan shifted audibly, and Miss
Sarah coughed uneasily.
"N'importe," continued the guest,
'voyons;'' and merely saying pardon,
madame" to the astonished Miss Clay,
she opened one or two boxes, and. tax
ing therefrom handful of lace,a bunch
of tiny yellow roses and a wisp of grass,
she cleared the table at which Ninette
was sitting with one sweep of her arm,
and, placing the materials in front of
her, said, "Iiensl l give you one hour
compose a bonnet, and then talk to
you,' she watched the girl take up her
needle and commence; and then turn
ing to her aunt, and calmly seating her
self. she continued: MADAME, was
driving through your town when be-
held some dream-like fabricatioDs in
your window, l said, The maker of
those must come to work for me-
returned; the bonnets are gone-all but
one. l come to say that l will offer
your demoiselle good position if it is
true she made those toques, those caps,
those bonnets, which l saw. live in
London: my name is Delafosse-yOu