The morning call., 1892-07-24

his eyes upon her. and scarcely turned them
away until the last words Of the mess were
said. Then l took no more notes 81 hitn
| hurried to the organ to congratulate my
brother, who was playing the closing
voluntary as / had never heard him play
before. The other members OF the choir
fingered. too; they we're all pleased with
themselves and him. But when he had
struck the last chord and L looked about me
l saw that Marie had disappeared. lie saw
it. too, evidently, for, pressing my hand
without a word. he hurried away; and as
staid behind pushing in the stops aud put
ting away the music tried to ieet brave
and TO teach myself that she must be hrst
with him now and that / should soon get
used to it and fall into my new place. Of
the stranger L thought no more.
1--WE were sitting down 10 dinner when
Eugene came in.
I've know what has kept you, Eugene,
said my mother; no need 10 ask
Eugene blushed and laughed.
IN tell you without asking then,' he
said. I've been with NJ. le Cure; he
caught me as l was leaving the church,
and only let me go when L told him that
both his dinner and mine would be getting
cold
Just what you might expect from NJ.
le Cure laughed my father; If ever there
was man VINO can't see through ladder
1t Is he.
81 could not Joke on the subject, so l ate
my meal in silence.
AFTER dinner my father uncoTked
bottle Of old wine, and was Just nlilng our
glasses when NJ. Bersler arrived.
" \ GU have come extremely nDpOrtuneiy,
MY friend cried my father. We are going
to drink some ones health
"He reached another glass, but the burgO-
master did not sit down with US; he walked
uneasily 10 and fro in the room.
Don't be in a hdget, burgomaster,'
went on my father. L can guess what you
have come to say; we can all guess
=" Can youY said the other, dryly. i
wish YOU could
Well began my father, 1T concerns a
certain fair warbler, and
I" Iou' re right so far, Pere Iouvet' the
burgomaster INTERRUPTED, and even there it
isn't quite as you think, and there is nothing
for 1t but fer me TO tell you You know, L
spoke before she came Of a marriage, or at
least of lover she had bad in Brussels who
had given her up because she had no dot"
l did not know the ins and outs. | re-
member Jean BaptiSte came To the conelu-
sion that he was poor sort OF lover. Well,
1 know the story better now, together with
fresh chapter, which you must hear. The
young man was q fellow pupil of Mare's
at the Conservatoire. He had scarcely
sou to live upon, and, though he passed
his examination as an opeTa-slnger with
eclat, he got no engagements. / believe he
was nearly starving. when about month
ago The tenor at the "M0nnaie" fell ILL.,
and this lads professor managed TO shove
hum IN as stCp-gap. lie took the public
by storm. Ii we saw the Brussels papers
we should have read of his sue
cess and been none the wiser Tne
cid tenor died. and the youngsters fortune
was made. lie paused and looked at us
each IN turn; no one spoke, so he went
IN: He's good sort OF lad, I've had il ali
out with him. He came to her as soon as
he could. He WAS In church to-day. 1t
seems that she had loved him all along. and
meant tn wait f0r him-fOTeVer, If neeeS-
saTy-and 80. YOU see, we must not Frudge
them cir JOY, and l shall give her couple
OF thousand francs for her tTousseau
80 the good old man rambled on because
ne did not know how to leave off. Eugene
rose from mis- sea: and went softly away.
The tears were running down my mothers
face.
''Jaan Baptiste. she WHISPERED. go after
him. IL any one can comfort him you can
Il followed him readily enough. When l
got outside lie WAS just disappearing along
the rugged path opposite the church, which
leads, as you know, monsieur, 10 the steep
wooded banks of the river. l could not
come up with him he was walking So fast,
but when he reached the shelter ot The
woods he slackened his pace. SO did !, for
L was beginning to feel that dare not in
trude upon his trouble, mach as | wanted TO
be near him, so | kept behind him. He
did not hear my steps on the damp, fallen
leaves. On lie went and on. IL was a gray,
chilly afternoon and the black rocks
frUwned from among the Balf-naked trees
Presently he reached the river side and
turned into the rough little path along which
you have fshed this morning and which has
led you here. Eugene was walking very
slowly now; sometimes he stopped alto
gether ana looked into the river aud every
BOW and then-my heart aches still to think
vi 1.-THE put his hands before his face and
gToaned. There was no one else in sight
hut him ana me. a few crows were fiylnC
about the meadow on the other bank.
Everything looked unspeakably dreary.
He went on round the big bend Of the river
in the same way, till at last he reached this
rock. Here he stopped, just where you are
slltirg, and stood looking down into the
deep black pool. | dare uot let him know
then that was behind him, so / drew back
behind that juttiug eTag and watched him
cautiously. ! thought that he would prob
ably go no farther, and that as he turned
back | wOuld speak to him. But the min
uteS passed and became half an hour; still
he dld not stir. At last saw him drop on
his knees and lift bis hands TO his head
My GOI,' he cried aloud, little thinking
| could hear, my God, bless her and make
her happy, ana forgive me If it be sin to die
when / dare not lye-
He stood up ami looked frstone way and
then the otner. His face was ghastly pale
| seemed 10 see IL rising and foaiing on the
water below, as 1t might have risen had |
not been there. sprang forward and seized
his arm.
AloH IfGIPs i cIieu, nave cOurane.
He turned heTcelY upon me-
IL you knew what the struggle is YOU
would know that there is no need to speak
of courage
Eugene | whispered. putting my arms
around him and drawing him back, Il know
mere OF the struggle than you think.
loved her before you ever saw her have
known what giving her mp means since you
have loved her.
LAS | spoke | laid my face against lis
breast; so we stood for awhile ana then he
let me lead him home.
The next day he told my father he
would like to 20 10 Grmbloux again aud
learn little more about scientific farming
from our uncle.
Marie Darcy's wedding was fixed for the
New Year, and In the meanwhile She came
continually TO my mother for help and adj
vice over her trCusseau
What terrible pity,' she said. when
she heard that Eugene had gone and would
not return III the spring. / should SO
much have liked him to play at my we'd
ding. Albert thinks him really fine per
former, ana Albert Is. OF course, Judge
Albert was her fance. | believe he sings
now at the great opera in Paris, and is as
much a favOTite as ever with the Dnbljc
after 80 years. Eugene and | are. as vnn
know, two old bachelors, and it is the mem
ory Of that most solemn moment of our
lives which keeps US from ever trying our
luck as fishermen in this pool."-Afl the
Year Round.