Waterbury evening Democrat., 1893-07-14

I AACA OC<huA1 eN SS "eI6 deeper, her form rounder, her skin firmer, with a glow like polished marble She carried her head with saucy tilt, her lips melted into smiles, her cheeks dimpled. They called her Fanchette the lovable.
 l When Il months had passed, she put her arms about her newly found father She murmured Jacques name with an information like ringdove in her voice, and frown corrugated the old mans handsome brow. He flung her aside.
 "Ingrate" he cried stormily. Fanchette kissed him sadly and crept away. Just at that moment she longed for the starlighted land, the coins that Father Badeau threw to the poor turkey driver and the curses of Mother Hugot with heartsickness that terrified her. She never mentioned Jacques name again. She stole from her home one night at the hour of 12. She paused be- | yond in the corridor and gave one glance behind at the luxury wrapped nest she had quilted. She saw the gilded panels, shining mirrors refiecting painted ceil- | ings hung in roses with frieze of cu- 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 a 1 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 dainty ball gown spread its fimsy Hounces over q Parisian 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 fled, crying.
 "The world is well lost for love, my Jacques! I come! comer'
 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 a new shyness born of her fresh l DCdulN duu neT solemn JOY.
 "Jacques!"
 "What. Fanchette! Ton! What. Fan chette in the rags of the turkey girl?" he | stammered.
 "Oh, yes, Jacques, yes! The turkey |, girl, Fanchette, whom you love. Not the lady Fapchette ever again! I 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 JacquesI Surely you will speak to your own Fanchette? Oh, | fife, friend Jacques, tears for joy, for soothl Methinks that is worthy of q woman. What! 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, l and her new great beauty to him in a 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 inyol- untary caress. He dropped upon one | knee at her feet and laid his face against l 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, pray! 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. I will never, never leave you now, love. unless you bid me go:"
 T bid you go."
 The voice was hoarse, agonized with deathly anguish in its modulations.
 "Jacquesr'
 "I am marriedp'
 He caught her, held her to him as her eyes closed and cursed himself.
 "Fanchette, Fanchette, look up and listen! My God, I hate myselfi I mar ried Rosamond Cartier six months ago. Il-thought you would not come back. Father influenced me-
 "Don'tI" 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 Hugots house.
 Come to our house, Fanchette," he pleaded.
 But she shook her head, lifted the latch and went in.
 She is the turkey t,nder 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 stars, 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 a kiss for every star in the crowded heavens.-Exchange.