The morning call., 1890-11-09

y y v : : t7ss
and she was prone to reprove Aurelie for
her dependency.
thank you with all the fervency of a moth
er's heart. You were heavenly as the priest
ess of this demi-god of ours. No wonder
that he followed you so willingly into the
garden. No wonder that his eyes chung to
you with a look that would have burned
into your very soul could you have caught
its full potency. Cheer up, sweet AureIie,
all will yet be well. Charles absence is
most fortunate for us; nay it is divine in
terpositlon to save my poor boy. Now that
there is no danger of having him to over
hear me, l intend to have an interview with
-with-the- the-poacher' daughter"
Aurelie gave start, and the blood ran
backward in her heart until touch of death
seemed almost upon her cheek, so cold it
felt to her touch.
YES" continued the Countess Dowager,
with a smile as full of meaning as it was of
crime. now is my opportunity, and Pm
going to try the effect of-of-gold upon
her. An, Aurele, you don't know what
world this is and what sort of people there
are in it. Gold is their god, and that is the
divinity which | intend to invoke to save
my SON. | shall succeed, too, never fear,
Aurelie. You have acted your part nobly,
sweet child Charles fees from you
because he loves you. l know men. 1t is a
sure sign OF a surrender. this retreat. She
she--the poacher's daughter knows this.
too, and it makes her just so much cheaper
for me, just so much cheaper for me, Azure
lie, added the Countess Dowager, with such
a Kissing sound of long pent up wrath es-
Gaping from the heated chambers of her
Utmost heart, that Aurelie drew back hor-
ror-stricken at the purple-dyed vlsage Of
the poets mother.
go, my dear child, to your room," re-
sumed the Countess Dowager. checking her
flood of hatred and smiling on Aurelie as
she kissed her tenderly. $50 and write to
Charles. Put your dear heart in words.
Never tear, he expects it, and use some
of his sweetest lines in so doing. I'll see
you again upon my return from the
poacher's cot, and mark what l promise
you. Aurelle, I'll bring you good news"
Irma Sale had never come face 20 face
with the Countess D0wager d AthS- Mons.
She had heard the voice of the poets
mother as that lady poured out her love for
little Robert as only can be done by
woman in whom the maternal instinct
amounts almost to a passion, and in listen
ing to the delicate modulatons OF that care
fully trained organ, for Madame, the
Countess Dowager, had been lady of honor
and favorite reader to Queen Maria Amelia.
Irma had, with the simplicity Of the child
of nature, pictured the poets mother to he
grandly and glorlously beautiful and SYM
pathetic. being of another world, rich in
that sweet and placid expression of genu-
iney ariStocratic face when framed and
softened by wealth OF white hair, as fine
and silky as spunglass.
The Countess came upon Irma unan-
nounced. Old father Sale and his daughter
were sitting in the shade of the vines which
clambered over the cottage roof, he smok-
iEg his pipe with that half solemn demelnor
SO characteristic of old people, the beat of
WhOSn hearts seem diving the dis.
lance; she busy repairing tiny garment be-
longing TO little Robert who was visible in
the distance so much engrossed with his
brood of ducklings as not to note his grand
mothers arrival. Father Sale was the first
to perceive the Countess Dowager's APP
proach. for lrna's eyes though apparently
fixed upon her work were really closed to
the world about her. The old peasant made
haste to wipe the dust from a chair and in
vite Madame the Countess" to be seated
Irma sprang up. and uttered an involun-
tary "Ah!' But in another instant she had
recovered her cOmposure, and bent her tall,
statucsque figure with grace that would
have taxed the powers of the former reader
to Queen Maria-Amelia, even in her palmi-
est days For brief moment the eyes of
the two women met full and fair. They
were both stricken with wonder-the
Countess Dowager to find herself confronted
by woman of rare and almost startling
beauty, but what was still more unexpected
goddess-like dignity; Irma to discover that
her ideal was far, far above the actual, that
the poets mother. while she had much of
the stately elegance of the great lady, yet
behind it all and shimmering through this
mask of sweet and noble condescension
there was hard and carved expression, a
sharpness OF line that meant unyielding
purpose and indomitable will.
1t was in reality work of supererogation
on Nine. d'Atnis' part to proceed to put into
hat Ior,
With the instinct of the child of nature Irna
knew it all. 1t had rung in her ears for long
and weary months, had come to her. Sleep
ing and waking, and with fendish cruelty
had taken on new emphasis and additional
solemnity at every coming. But one thought
had busted her weary mind of late and that
was How shall l bear it when it does
come? ?"
At last the moment arrived when this
fearful question was to receive an answer.
MademoiSelle - Mademoiselle = Salle,"
began the Countess Dowager, coloring deeply,
for Irma's large, dark eyes were riveted
upon her with power that seemed as if it
might dissolve the thin shell enveloping her
thoughts and lay them bare in merciless
show to the whole world. my errand here
to-day is a sad one. AS God is my witness,
| come to you only because sacred duty
commands it, duty from which there is no
escape for me and to neglect which would
sink me into well-merited lnfamy. No mat
ter how 1t may wound you, must speak
nay, l must, if need be, entreat, impore on
Bonded knee. You love my soE and he loves
you, but, Mademoiselle, l gave him life
and l must save him now from what
would be worse than death. For
give me if L speak harshly. 1t is
cruel world, but we are in it, We are part
of it and must be governed by it. My heart
goes out to you, and yet be of good cheer.
What | ask at your hands is an act of such
gracious devotion that it will fall like hon.
eyed balm upon your wounded heart You
will, ere MANY months have passed, thank
heaven that | came to you as l do now and
ask you to let 90 your hold upon my POOR
boy. Give him back to ME, Mademoiselle.
You are so beautifully be as good as you
seem to able to be. Pardon a mothers love
for such twice ennobled son, by birth and
genius. read your answer in your beauti-
ful face. You say yes; you consent Oh,
Gods blessing on you! Gods blessing on
youW
True it is that Irma's head fell forward in
sign of her willingness to let go her hold, as
Nine. d Athis termed it, upon Count Charles
d'Athls- Mons, the young poet, whose hand
some aristocratic face was thus early but
surely turned toward the highest literary
honors in the land. Not that she yielded to
the mothers entreaty. No, thousand