The Press., 1893-03-16
NINA.

and La. Grande Chaumiere; i'll fact of all those choreographic establishments which the Parisian grisette visits regu- larly in order to lose her heart-and not infrequently her rosy cheeks and the freshness of her youth.
 Harcourt pretended to study medicine, and it was among these pretty girls sellers of flowers, embroiderers of linen, and painters models-that he managed to forget the terrors of the hospital and the scenes te. the surgical amphitheater. Charles Harcourt had just arrived at the time of life when soft down shows on the lip, when love knocks at the breast, and when the heart resembles 8 lusty tree, full of vigor, from which has fallen as yet neither leaf nor fruit. .
 The trombones of the orchestra roar like thunder on stormy sea; the vlo- lins scream like sea gulls above the waves; the music rolls and growls like some hungry beast. All is confusion. White shoulders and gold lace gleam through the heavy air. The innocent and the guilty dance together i'll the same delirious motion.
 While the dancers turn and whlrl advancing wildly and as wildly retreat ing, far in d corner sits a slender girl watching the dance with an air of sad ness. Her mournful eyes follow the crazy motions of the crowd with aston ishment, and light sigh moves the folds of null on her breast.
 In the midst of this indescribable confusion, this pellmell of figures and voices, appears that of a handsome boy of twenty-two, remarkable for his vivac- ity and the boldness of his speech and gesture. Finally, when the violins have ended their agonizing cries and the lamps are dying before the oncoming daylight, this boy, whom his friends sa- lute as Harcourt, leaves the ball. a new conquest upon his arm-it is the slender brunette of the corner.
 Charles Harcourt appeared no more at the balls of the Latin quarter, but spent his days at L'Ecole de Medicine. passing his first examinations with dis tinction. In one of those fascinating little houses-such are Beranger pre- tends to have inhabited at twenty Charles made his home, guarding jeal- ously the dangerous happiness of a union contracted without the help O. le 1naire and which is called morganatic to avoid the use of less delicate phrase.
 His conquest of the ball was named Nina. She was good and affectionatt child, and in spite of the anacreontio quadrilles of the Latin quarter, she was innocent. She had kept her heart ill tact. It was her sole economy. Charles and Nina loved one another like tw) oi La Fontaine's doves. But Nina was g consumptive, and Charles read with af fright the death of his happiness in the paling face of his beloved.
 His care of her was untiring; but this implacable malady never releases, and soon in kiss Charles received his mis tress's last sigh. Nina died in the hos pital: her long illness having exhausted | their feeble resources, and Charles had the cruel courage to deliver the body ot his beloved to the investigations of the | pathologist. He wished to pursue, ever | in the flesh, this rival who had killed her. He made use of cynical usage te preserve the skull. This, with plaste, 1 mask molded upon the emaciated body l of the dead girl, was all that remained l to him.
 Mina's loss affected Charles profound ly. Out of a character frivolous an6 | careless, devoted only to coarse pleas ures, had grown deep and serious love l This honest and generous affection hat | stifed the germs of evil. Nina d .,ad l he was seized as by vertigo, and ho 1 plunged into the abyss. He found him self face to face with evil, and threw te | this monster the rest of his youth. In this ocean of false pleasures the re membrance of Nina was drowne l, an6 8 petulant little grisette called Mariette took her place. One night in November | Mariette and one of her friends, Charles and one of his companions were together I in little house on the Rue Gres. The | night was cold and sinister; masses o1 l heavy clouds were driven across a gray | sky, the moon showed her mounful face only at intervals, sudden showers beat upon the windows, and the wind howled | at the cracks.
 These four young people drank and sang, unaffected by the storm and thei, strange environment. It was tho strange medley of the students life that showed | in the small room-here signs of work and there the broken bottles of drink ing bout. A small table held a dried l tibia, pile of medical works, some empty wine bottles and some articles ot the toilet. There, too, was the plaster cast of the dead Nina, figure slender to meagerness, the eyes cavernous and empty, the lips distorted into painful smile, the plaster discolored by the kisses ! placed upon those lips in eternal fare. we'll. Upon the chimney were a candle a small clock and a human skull. At one side tiny couch, on the walls racks for pipes and some cheap Autographs. Mariette and her friend Rose lounged 1 about i'll untidy dishabille. Earnest 1 made a pretense of study. while Charles dulled by the warm and heavy air ot 1 the room, leaned on the long table in silence. It was 8 group worthy of the | brush of Callot.
 "What is the matter with Charles? cried Ernest, shutting his book noisily5 "he is as sober as a merchant"
 ''He is thinking of Mina." said Mari. cite, bitterly.
 W AVA O A1AlSUAC ID DuIlCSls UIdU OuAu to end the affair."" said Rose, decidedly.
 s'But often, even when I am here, ] find him sitting before that plaster cast, J said Mariette, sullenly.
 ''Oh, it's perfectly platonic," laughed Ernest.
 s.Baht' said Rose; ''you don't object to a plaster rival, do your
 '.To the health of Nina, cried Ernest.
 Charles looked up quickly. These jibes cut him to the heart.
 '.Mina was good girl," he said.
 "That remains to be seen," cried Mari cite; T am 8 good girl, too, am not?'
 "You will be when you are dead,' mocked Ernest.
 .'Charles," said Mariette, "confess that you love Nina still!''
 s'No; l do notr'