Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1892-07-30

said. felt 80 unhappy that he thought wa.
angry. I've said nothing to her.
well, you needn't blaze up, lad. As to what
you said, that may have been cautious enough
only l. and your mother, and the burgomaster
went by what you did. However, III say no
more. suppose you're too hardened bache-
Tor TO change your wavs.'
| al dare say am rejoned.
| "'Besides, he added consolingly its a. we'll
you weren't IN earnest, for 1t strikes me the
J wind of her favor sits in another quarter
| THAT was what every one was beginning to
say, and as | watched them l felt sure of it, on
his side at least, and as to hers, l could only
| guess, not knowing how women show or con-
| ceal that kind of thing.
| "Al Saints day--the dedication festival Of
| our church-was the day Monsieur lie Cure chose
| for the fulfilment OF EuSene's project, and
| there were in consequence great preparations.
1t was quito the right day for such perform
| ance, for the few il the village who never went
to church ut any other time were accustomed
| TO go then, tina: the building would be as
| full as it could hole, and. owing to the special
attraction, seats would be placed in every avail
able corner.
Eugene looked so happy when all was ar
ranged that the mere sight of him made me al
most forget the bitterness which had married
| my life for the past two months.
| "'It viii be good day for getting their affair
settled said my father TO me as we walked to
| church. He meant the affair between Eugene
| ana Marie, ana 4 iSScnleu.
! ~ wasn't myself much Of a singer, but gen.
orally sat among the tenors in the south gallery
/ to do what could TO swell the chorus. NY
! place was behind Marie Darcy and as sat
] there began to wonder ii il were possible that
| their be:rothal would be settled that very day
and how / should feel when she said thee and
/ thou TO me. l had more than once imagined
her Addressing me in that way, only on very
| different footing from that on which we were
now going TO be placed. So 1 went on musing
until the service had begun and Monsieur lie Cure
was reading the Gospel.
"Just then l saw stranger enter the church
! and make his way up the central aisle. Strangers,
! of course, there might be on such an occasion,
still, | noticed this one. He had. to me- the
| air Of q person quite out of keeping with the
\ surroundings into which he had come. More
/ over. tn" assurance with which he worked his
way into prominent place and the GOODNESS
/ with which he looked about him gave the i'm
/ preston if not person of importance he GER
| tainiy fancied himself TO be such. After he had
taken his place he still kept turning and looking
about till at last felt quite angry with his
manner, though he had not once glanced at our
choir gallery. Then pulled myself up for in
attention. The Gospel was ended; we were
! going to sing the creed. glanced at Eugene
as he sat at the organ. His face was radiant
Msries head was bent over her book
| fancied she looked nervous; but that 1 could
understand, seeing that it is not woman g
province to be heard in church. After the first
few bars, however, her glorious voice rose up
pure and clear above all Our rough, uncut
tirated oues. was not astonished TO see the
impertient stranger turn with a start
and look eagerly for the singer; but again lost
patience with him when he fixed his ewes
upon her. and scarcely turned them away until
the last words Of the mass were said. Then
took no more notice Of him; l hurried to the
organ to congratulate my brother. who was
playing the closing voluntary rs / had meyer
hos 1rols lpFn It,-N 4hArv
the choir fingered. too; they were all pleased
with themselves and him. But when he had
struck the last chord, and looked about me-
saw that Marie had disappeared. lie saw it, too
evidently, for, pressing my hand without
word. ne hurried away, and as STAYED behind
pushing in the stops and putting away the
music, tried to feel brave and to teach myself
that she must be first with him now, and that
should soon get used to it and fall into nv new
place. OF the stranger thought no more
ave were sitting down to dinner when Eu-
gene came in.
1--WE know what has kept YOU, Eugene said
my mother, no need to ask
Eugene blushed and laughed.
"'lll tell without asking, them he said. I've
been with Monsieur lie Cure: he caught me as
was leaving the church and only let me go
when told him that his dinner and mine would
be getting cold
" Just what YOU might expect from Monsieur
lie Cure, laughed my father. If ever there was
man who cannot see through ladder it is he
g! could not joke on the subject, so l ate my
meal in silence.
"After dinner nv father uncorked bottle Of
old wine and was just filling our glasses when
Monsieur Bersier arrived.
lyon have come extremely opportunefy, my
friend cried M father. We going to
drink some ono5 health.
He reached another glass, but the burgo-
master did not sit down with US; he walked
uneasily to and fro in the room.
Don't be In hdSet. burgomaster,' went
on my father. Il can guess what you have
come TO say. We can all guess
"'Can you?' said the other dryly. Il wish
you could.'
Well began my father, it concerns o
certain fair warbler, and
YOU'RE right so far. Pere Louvet' the bur
gomaster interrupted, but there it isn't
quite YOU think. and there is nothing for it
but for me to tell you. You know, l spoke be-
fore she came OF marriage-or at least. of
lover she had had in Brussels, who had given her
up because she had no dot" | did not know
the ins and outs. / remember Jean Baptis.e
came to the conclusion that he was a poor
sort of n lover. Well, know the story better
now, together with fresh chapter which
You must hear. The young man was fellow
pupil of Marie's at the Conservative; he
had scarcely a sou to live upon, and though
he passed his examinations as an opera
singer with eclut he got no engage
ment. believe he was nearly starving. when
about month ago the tenor ut the Monnaie
fell i'll, and this lads professor managed to
shove him in as a stop gap. He took the pub
lie BY storm. II we saw the Brussels papers
we should have read of his success and been
none the wiser. The old tenor died and the
youngsters fortune made. He paused
and looked at us each in turn; no one spoke
so he went on: He's good sort of lad I've had
it all out with him. He came to her as soon
as he could he was in church todlv 1t
seems that she bias loved him all along and
meant to wait Tor him forever. if necessary
and so you we must not grudge
them their Joy, and shall give her couple of
thousand francs for her trous5eau.'
80 the good old man ranbled on, because
he did not know how TO leave off. Eugene
rose from HIS sea. and went softly away. The
tears were running down nv mothers face
"'Jean Btptiste,' she whispered, go after
him. If any one can comfort him YOU can
II followed him readily enough. When l
got outside he was just disappearing along
the rugged path opposite the church, which
leads. you know, monsieur, to the steep
wooded banks of the river. l could not come
up with Inn, he walking fast, but
when he reached the shelter of the woods he
slackened his pace. SO did I. for | was begin
ming to feel that / dare not intrude upon his
trouble, much as l wanted 20 be near him; 50
kept behind him He did not hear nv stems