The morning call., 1891-12-06

her duty, certainly, for she was an honest
woman; but it appalled, her-she revolted
at it. What had she ever done TO be
singled ont for misery in this way?
Karl still intended TO continue his ork,
but every day, whether 1t was that the pain
full memories awakened by the interrupted
story impressed him still too strongly, OF
whether the torpidity of his faculties had
not yet passed away, he always put it off till
he expected a secretary, wh6 had been
recommended by one OF his best friends.
All that night he could not sleep; nervous
excitement made him feverish He reca-
pitulated the incidents in the chapter to be
written, just as general passes In review
those troops in which he has not too much
confidence on the eve of a battle.
The secretary, young professor, who
was at Paris for the purpose Of attending
the public debating classes, arrived at the
young fellow, but awkward to a degree,
without tact, and yoluble in expressions OF
coincidence and admiration. mingled in an
exasperating manner. Karl du Boys, who
was courtesy and poiteness personified,
tried to keep down his temper, but every
movement of his well-meaning auxiliary
grated upon the Quivering nerves of the eX-
cited author, who suffered more torture with
every lll-chOsen word. Everything about
him was offensive; his manner of settling
between his fingers, the discreet little cough
by which he signiied that sentence was
finished, all irritated the unfortunate man
and paralyzed his powers Nevertheless he
persisted in spite Of all this. He could not
see the slight lifting of the eyebrows which
greeted his embarrassed paragraphs, his alb
surd TRADES; but he could divine by the
m0mentary hesltations which occurred oc-
casionally that his secretary judged him and
that he condemned him pitiessly. In his
eyes he was an author doomed.
The unhappy man recalled his working
hours in the beautiful studio, where he
could walk up and down with long strides;
where silence Was maintained with religious
care; the servants banished from that part
of the house which was sacred to its master
ali prying eyes kept at a distance by his
wife's watchfuneSs-She herself keeping
out of the way for fear of disturbing him.
And now. to show up his inmost thoughts
in all their nakedneSS before this stranger
to display the skeleton of his work. to clothe
it painfully under the gaze of those unsym-
pathetic eyes. which he could feel were
fixed in establishment on his own sightless
oTbs. No. he could never do it!
Yet still he wished to go on. The tlcktack
of the clock told the passing time, the sweat
stood in beads on his forehead; his nervous
fingers clutched the arms of his chair con-
vulsively; slowly and more painfully came
the words. This man who had always been
so ready writer-tOo ready, perhaps-went
DdCh vi UlllScll, dpulil anu uSdlll, CuuNgl0R.
considering; at length his strength gave
way, and he stopped short
The secretary waited, not daring to break
the silence; suffering himself at the sight
of that suffering which was becoming agony.
Jeanne who had entered the room a few
minutes before, n0seiessly. with her soft
slippered feet, came to the rescue of her
husband She began to talk in quite a
natural tone of voice just as though she had
seen nothing OF OWNED nothing of what
was going on.
Enough work for one day. gentlemen; l
am not going to miss my daily walk, all be-
cause you are so enthusiastic"
With motion of her hand she fastened
the young professors departure. She saw
him oat herself and stopped a moment to
speak with him a. the door. The poor fell
low thought it his fault. perhaps. that
things had gone wrong so deplorably at the
first trial, and begged her to tell him what
he ought to DO, reiteratlng his excuses.
Jeanne, growing impatient, was obliged.
almost literally, to put him out in her
anxiety to get back to her invalid.
He never heard her come back. He was
frightful to look upon. The unfortu nate
man at last comprehended that all was now
over for him. More than his eyesight had
been killed in that terrible explosion his
intellectual powers had been taken, too.
THIS pretty talent of his was pure native of
Partisan soil; born of movement; striking
ire only on contact with modern society
requiring the stimulus OF touch with ex-
ternals. h felt himself incapable of that
patient study of humanity which concen-
trates itself more as the subject becomes
more intricate. 1t seemed to him that his
imagination, formerly so teeming with life
and creative power, so full of originality.
had become as il frozen poweriess. He
pictured il TO himself, poor little vessel
with pretty white sails, made for wing
Ing its way under sunny skies, in the
clutches OF polar ice and snow. He knew
that this dumb GOODNESS which WAS all about
him was not alone the result of his blind
ness; 1t was the loss of that lcye which had
suddenly slipped away from his grasp; that
forced resignation OF Jeanne's; her severe
accomplishment of duty. He did not I'M
derstand it: 1t had always seemed so natu-
raj for him to be beloved by his wife that
the possibility of ever being at a loss for the
want of it could never have occurred to him.
tie seemed vaguely to realize that he was
himself cniprit; he had allowed that deli
cate gossamer thing Of shades and fancies,
which we call the love of a woman, to escape
away from him. How had this calamity
come to pass2 His heart failed him too
much to try to find out. All that he had ever
counted upon seemed going out of his life at
once and forever. One day the happest
and most fortunate Of mortals to whom
everything was easy. finding life pleas
ant; the next poor unfortunate. scarcely
worth the name of man; nova ruin of
humanity, who was become painful charge
TO De supported Win exHSperatlng patience.
he felt as though he were going mad. The
muscles OF his SCARED face contracted
frightfullv, his hands seemed searching for
something; the dead eyebals made a su-
preme effort to see; then he remained for IA
few moments entirely still, genter mood
stole over him. Jeanne leaned forward TO
catch the faint murmur which parted his
lips. 1t was Jeanne. my poor JeanneI"
There was much despair in the words, such
love mingled with reproach. that the young
wife pressed her handkerchief to her mouth
to stife sob. She had followed all of his
heart-rending thoughts on that face, which
had become an open book to her.
All at once he seemed to take strong re-
solve. he rose and feeling his way went to
the window. He hesitated, however; his
life was nothing but life accursed-yes,
but 1t still was life lie drew a long in
spiration, as though just TO feel once more
his lungs swelling and the blood circulating
rapidly in his veins; then he laid his hand
on the window latch - Jeanne under
stood.
You shall not diel You shall not diep
She held him close in her arms, trem-