The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1892-06-04

p6r1Or essence, lie Was happy DIS KING.
Next morning, while breakfasting,
Raoul could not resist the temptation to
explain what fllet chateaubriand was,
and how to cook it.
eff you would like one this evening, "
said the young wife, suppose try it,"
"No, thanks; spoke of it, but do not
want it. Moreover, it would not be pos
sible this evening"" and he thrilled with
pleasure at putting his foot on the slip
perry incline, persuaded that he at least
would not fall.
"But why not this EVENING"" Louise
persisted.
"Have I not told you, then? 1 met
Paul Varennas today, and promised to
dine with him tonight. His brother, he
says, has just returned from Mexico. !
tried to excuse myself, but he insisted
so much that couldn't get out of it, you
know"
"Indeedp' said Louise.
Presently Raoul rose, kissed his wife
and started out, turning carelessly at
the door to call back that may be he
would not go after all; he really could
not tell.
Nevertheless toward 5 o'clock the
model husband returned.
"I'm going" said he. paul would be
seriously vexed if I failed to dine with
him. And you, my little Louise, you are
not to worry. Besides, I've thought of
something-go to your aunt's to dinner.
Jean will bring you home, and I'll take
you there before start. How does that
suit you?"
Perfectly; but it is needless to trouble
yourself to escort me there; can easily
go alone"
Half all hour later Raoul, fresh shaver,
perfulned, smiling, carefully dressed,
jumped into a coupe, and set out for the
Bots de Vincennes.
He was fifty pounds lighter it seemed
to him, as he mounted the restaurant
steps. But then, what if, after all, she
did not come? No matter, he would not
think Of it, but continued on, greeting
again with pleasure that varied odor pc
culiar to restaurants, that rattle of plates
and glasses clinked up and down the
stairs by hurrying walters, towel on arm,
and knives and forks sticking like quilts
from their jacket pockets.
Monsieur is alone?" asked one of them
afably, advancing to meet him.
eyes; but expect some one. No. is
free, is it not?'
eyes, monsieur" He threw open the
door, and Raoul entered joyously.
GA,,1 will ,a1@ -
demanded the man, depositing the menu
with flourish.
''Not now, I'll wait;" and he threw
down his hat and looked about him.
The same eternal cabinet that he had
seen hundred times-red paper, leafed
with gold; sofa with three cushions,
none too soft; a clock in gilt bronze, two
flower pots with flowers, an upright
piano out of tune, a carpet where all
the boots Of Paris had right to leave
their traces, and table in the center,
laid with covers for two. The forks were
twisted and furnished from service to
hundreds of mouths, the crystal heavy,
warranted not to ''nick," and on the
edges of the plates and the rest of the
tsindestructible" china the name of the
restaurant scrolled in gilt.
Something in the surroundings recalled
to Raoul the disgust that he had once
felt, but certainly would feel no more;
nevertheless he got up and opened wide
the window to freshen the atmosphere,
which was indisputably trifie close.
GLOW curious!' he murmured; 'sbut
I had forgotten all this!''
And he began to whistle softly to chase
away fancies not SO pleasant that were
coming to mind. Somehow or ether his
gayety, too, seemed leaving him. He
drew out his watch to see the time-a
quarter past 7, and he was distinctly
hungry. What if that letter after all
was joke? A joke! He had not
thought of it that way, but maybe after
all it was better it should be so.
Quiet as it was now-not to say sad
in No 5, it was very gay indeed in the
adjoining cabinet, the loud chatter of
plates and clinking glasses mingling at
times with gay bursts of laughter.
At last rustic of skirts approached
in the corridor. At the same moment
the door flew back, a lady entered pre-
cipitately and fell, evidently a prey to
fear or embarrassment, breathlessly upon
the sofa.
A Internationally. Uneasy and
puzzled-why he knew not-Raoul ad.
vanced to meet her. She raised her
hand, the veil was of, and-Louise was
before him!
Louise, serene, smiling, unrufied as
ever and sweetly murmuring:
81 was dying, you see, Raoul, to taste
a fillet chateaubriand properly pre-.
pared.
How they settled it and what explana,
tons were made / have not an idea. But
one thing is certain, Raoul no longe,
"kicks over the traces" is as happy and
content as the day is long, and Louise
as generous as she was wise, has never
once since that little dinner In restau
rant so much as whispered .'fllets cha
teaubriand" In her husbands presence
Translated for Argonaut from the
French of Gustave Droz by E. c. Wag
gener.