The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1893-12-07
means of bringing me back to the conventional


1 uttered q smothered "aouch." The Gen
eral awoke "Eh, whatf Is it my turnf'
Poor old General; he always thinks 1t Is bis
turn to play! What pinch that was! Deal
me, shall have q blue spot for week. Il
seems i have been rude, that my conduct ha:
been unseemly, but then, what, as the Baroness
says, can one expect from parvenu?
Perhaps, after all, it may have been littls
hasty. But, put yourself in my place! was
barely %, and had spent the last IA months IN
the heart of Africa.
The General, fortunately. had seen nothing
and that saved me. When his wife tried tc
at once.
"Tried to kiss herr What do You mean
What do you take me for2 Wasn't / there
Wouldn't have seen it, ftp
But, tell you, you were asleep"
Asleep! Me asleep! No wonder, Madam
you imagine things. when you-Besides, he's a
splendid fellow, and never would have dared
Asleep! Well! welli"
As to Antoinette? All! / don't know, bu,
still, perhaps, if we had been all alone
May IS-Dined yesterday at Font Briaut
Lost my heart irretrievably. Am fifty times
more in love with her than ever. After dinner,
when / asked her to play, she went to the
piano. and played something from GOunod-l
don't know what; something full of scales and
said, Do you like that-that thing?"
That thing?" she burst out laughing,
al that thing why, that is Gounod's!"
Il don't care if it is Gounod's. | don't like
it, Sing me something, something simple and
sweet, won't you-darling
Then, with the soft pedal down, with a low,
running half-hushed accompaniment, she sang
me
THE LITTLE BIRDS
A.
The twilight has come like bird from its nest,
The stars in the heavens are trembling and sad,
And little birds, darling, have all gone to rest.
The words futtered around ME like a per-
fume of rhythm and sweet sounds, as her voice
rose and fell in the little song, but when, softer
and sweeter. with eyelids downcasts she came
to the last words:
Shall we darling,
Whisper our love songf
The little birds have gone to rest,
/ felt chill run down my back, and thought
| should certainly die. Then she stood, and.
as barred the way. she made as if she would
escape but went towards her. slowly, slowly,
with outstretched arms aud when j clasped
her hands in my own whispered to her softly,
"I love you, my darling. my lady-bird."
"Antoinette," cried the Baroness right be-
hind ME. But she did not pinch me! Oh, If
she had only known what had just said
lost my way on my return home, and gal
loped wildly through the forest, singing at the
top of nay voice, to the profound astonishment
of the hooting owls
As soon as / reached home ! telegraphed to
my Aunt Claire de Savsnay-the only relative
have in the world
Am mady in love with Marie Antoinette, and
beg of you TO come without delay"
May 10 (evening).-I have just received in
reply this tiny note, perfumed with Spanish
violets:
PARIS. May IS.
am delighted to know you adore Marie Antoin-
ette. do, too but that Is no reason why should
leave Paris. What do you mean?
Afectionaiely you're,
CLAIRE DE SAvAEAY.
Poor Aunt Claire. she thought i meant the
other Marie AniOinette.
TRoUvILLE, August 81 fear me Marie
Anioinette is an impregnable fortress. j have
had friends sound the family for me. but, it
seems TO no avail.
Are people mad ?" said the Baroness, "to
think would let my daughter marry at 17P
And TO marry whom, prayP little fellow,
hardly more than bOy-(a boy! fancyl who
has not even a position in the army! For
what is it, ] shonld like to know, TO he merely
a Lieutenant of the First Chasseurs in Africa
He has some money, it is true; some pitiful
twenty-six-Or seven thousand pounds, but no
family. no blood! No. no. she would never
hear of it, The only daughter Of the Baron
DE Font Briaut-Cauard, General-in-Chief Of
the Nineteenth (artillery), marry-why, how
absurd
saw the siege would be long one. but as to
giving up my AnlOinette-bah-you might as
well have asked me 10 run on the 18th of Jam
Uary, 1872, when we took Mahrabout Ali.
PARIS, January 81, 1S73.-Every year in
Nidwinter Gen. Font Briaut installs himself