Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1893-08-17
THURSDAY, AUGUST II, 1898.

| behind at the luxury wrapped nesg sne
had quilted. She saw the gilded panels,
shining mirrors rejecting painted cell
ings hung in roses with frieze of GU
pids, soft, rich carpets and lace hung
bed where dreams Of Jacques had cir
cled round her drowsy head
She saw her tiny satin shoes, subtly
suggestive Of Incidence and with q
touch of personality seeming to cling
about them still as they lay discarded on
the white fur rug before the scented fire.
Her glance wandered to an open chest
of antique wood hard by, heaped up with
the choicest treasures of the milliner's
art. Here fan coquetted with an opera
cloak, there a dainty ball gown spread
its fimsy flounces over a Partisan bonnet
laden with purple violets.
She dropped tear, she burst into a
sob. Her woman's heart cried out after
all this luxury. Her better nature whis-
pered Jacques name into her ear. The
tear became as a rainbow touched by
her smile. She turned and fed, crying.
''The world is well lost for love, my
| Jacques! comel Gomez
In the old familiar trysting spot at
last, waiting for her lover, she echoed
those words. She crouched down and
kissed the turf and the star eyed mar
guerites and laughed to herself softly
and gleefully.
She heard his step at last. She arose
with new shyness born of her fresh
beauty and her solemn joy.
"Jacquesr'
"What, Fanchettel YouI What Fan
chette in the rags of the turkey grip he
stammered
"Oh, yes, Jacques, yesl The turkey
girl, Fanchette, whom you love. Not
the lady Fanchette ever againl l am
yours, Jacques, yours!'
He dropped his hat from his hand. His
rugged face paled and his lips quivered.
She thought his joy unnamed him.
He put both hands over his face and
stood SO. abashed before her dewy eyes.
She brushed his hands with her red lips
and whispered to him:
'Look up. my Jacques Surely you
will speak to your own Fanchette? Oh,
ie, friend Jacques, tears for joy, for
sooth! Methinzs that is worthy Of a
woman. Whatl Will you not look at
me? They say that am greatly changed
"a beauty, Jacques, your little Fan
chette! Are you not glad?'
She was sobbing and laughing and
clinging to him, the moon showing her
dimples, and her soft, quivering lips,
and her new great beauty to him in
maddening way. Her hair fell around
him, her warm arms were laid upon his
shoulders, she was leaning against him,
delicious in her womanly gladness. But
he did not touch her after the first invol-
untary caress. He dropped upon one
knee at her feet and laid his face against
her hand.
Their star on high looked down upon
them benignly.
Look, Jacques, look-our star! Do
not kneel to me, my own Jacques, do
not, prayi See, it is smiling at us-it
is happy, too. The year is past, is past,
Jacques, let us thank the good God to-
gether. But first will you not kiss me?
Am / to sue for it, then? Dear friend,
| do not give way thus. am here, close
beside you, Jacques. will never, never
leave you now. love. unless you bid me
goY
81 bid you 60"
The voice was hoarse, agonized with
deathly anguish in its modulations.
''Jacquesr'
81 am marriedr
| He caught her, held her to him as her
eyes closed and cursed himself.
.'Fanchette, Fanchette, look up and
listen! My God, hate myself l mar
ried Rosamond Cartier six months ago.
Thought you would not come back.
Father influenced me-
'sDon'tr' Fanchette said.
She seemed more beautiful than ever
when she stood up again. But Jaques
could not bear to look at her
She slipped away from him over the
grass toward Mother Hugot's house.
"Come to our house. Fanchette," he
pleaded.
and went in.
She is the turkey tender once again.
She sees Jacques wife roll by in her
carriage. She is humble and patient,
but she prays the old prayer no more.
All that remains of the past are the
rtars, and on calm nights when she
looks out of her window she still fancies
as she weeps herself into troubled dream
land that Jacques is once again claim
ing kiss for every star in the crowded
heavens.