Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910, 1890-06-02

cess. and the comedy which he drew
from il met with an enthusiastic recep-
ton on the first performance at the
Odeon. From that time his reputation
was assured, and he, consequently, be-
gan to acquire enemies. A collection of
his articles from the Vert-Vert into a
volume entitled ~Contes Roses" drew
from the pen of the bilious Saint-Landry
a critique so scathing, so bitter, and so
unjust, that Fougeret, acting ON the adj
vice of his friends. had sent his seconds
to the jealous writer.
And tomorrow he would be on the
field as calm and careless as he had been
before. What better satisfaction could
ba given hims Nothing could he moro
agreeable, thought Fougeret, as he halted
i.'fore his modest little house and turned
the key in tiae door.
At. last, Armand, said a soft voice
coming from the kitchen; Il am so glad.
Wait in the dining room; dinner is
ready.
He entered the room. The table was
set with four plates, and the room looked
so cozy and pleasant that the young man
gave vent to a contented sigh. The next
moment the door of the kitchen opened,
revealing dainty little woman, some
what pale, with very blue eyes and very
blonde hair, holding a smoking soup
tureen, and followed by a four-year-ol
baby, who solemnly brought up the rear
with the ladle.
How is this ?" inquired Armand, sit
ting down and unrolling ais napkin,
after having tenderly kissed his wife and
children; you are waiting on the table ?
Where is Rose?"
Rose?" replied the little woman, with
a shade of embarrassment; "she has gone.
sent her away.
Sent her away?" said Armand, sur
prised; "and why?"
She was dishonest, replied Claudine;
land | could not keep her. So paid her
a week in advance and dismissed her.
You owe your dinner to Georget and me.
Yes, said Georget, gravely; it was
us. Don't you like your soup, papa?"
Excellent, declared Armand; Il con-
gratulate you on your skill. But, low
ering his voice, "where did you get the
money to pay her WITH"
Il used what you gave me for the
house this week. knew that since your
new book is nearly finished you could go
to your publisher tomorrow and ask an
advance.
Armand trembled.
so we can get along nicely" con-
tinued his wife; "I would rather wait
until your novel was finished, but / do
not think am strong enough to go with
out eating until then. have the will,
but not the substance, you know"
But you shall have the money, broke
in Armand; you must not tire yourself
out. / viii have it--I will take 1.-TWO
hundred-three hundred francs, if you
wish.
4That viii be better, said Claudine,
with charming air of content, because
now / will not have to part with my
piano. WANTED to keep it a secret from
you, but found it a superfuous luxury,
and they were coming tomorrow to take
it away. With the three hundred francs
we can get nurse for the little one and
SO many other things.
Il see, said Armand, with sad smile,
@that the money will not last very long.
"But in three weeks your novel will
be finished, and then we shall be rich
again. Then l shall have a new dress.
Look, / have made this one over 80 many
times that there is scarcely anything
left to hold the threads together.
"Yes, replied Armand, gazing at the
poor little threadbare gown, II know-I
know"
'And you must havesome new clothes,
too, my dear. And q new dress. for
Georget. Why, we viii spend at least
fifteen hundred francs.
Fifteen hundred francs" repeated
Armand, thoughtfully.
"Yes. 1t is a large sum for as to spend
now, dear. But your novel viii bring
us at least three thousand, and to think
that it win be finished in twenty days"
SIN twenty days, said Armand, re-
peating the words in a mechanical man
ner.
"Ah, how happy we win be, " said the
little woman, her eyes sparkling at the
prospect of the good fortune which she
beheld in prospect; I'VE can pass the
summer at the seaside. Georget shall
have pretty red cap, and we will enjoy
ourselves as we did four years ago when
we were rich. Do you remember how
we used to go grabbing, and that big fe-
rocious crab that frightened me so2 It
all comes back to me again, and with it
all the other pleasures owe you. Kiss
me, my dear, and the affectionate wife
threw her arms about the neck of her
husband, who embraced her tenderly.
But, said Claudine, when she had
disentangled herself from Armand sarms,
it is o'clock already. must put baby
to bed and see that the house is safely
locked. But first let me see you to your
table.
And taking the lamp, Claudine pre-
ceded her husband into his little studio
adjoining their bed chamber.
There, she said, drawing near for
parting kiss, until we meet again.
Work quickly. Think that our happi-