Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1893-12-16


carried 10 his tomb in the great ca
thedral-last stage of a journey that
had known so many dismal hating
places-from prison to prison, and then
TO the common grave at Pcre Lachaise,
from there 10 the bed of state in the
archiepiscopal palace, and now TO the
final resting-plac among the historic
dead.
In the Rue Git lc Occur lie had re
Sumed its wonted way, save for one
empty PLACE Rose was again astir
the careful manager, the attentive
wife, nursing her baby, busy with her
domestic work, cleaning, cooking, keep
ing the little apartment as neat and
bright as palace There were flow
crs on the windowsin again, a bunch
of flowers on the table at which Philip
wrote or read, a bouquet of lilies of
the alley, pure, spotless, telling no tale
Of ruined city a Inundated and
impoverished nation Within, by the
domestic hearth all was peace. Philips
arm was slowly mending, lie was able
even to work a little at the famous
carved sideboard in his workshop, or
to bring one of the nanels into his
Wife's sitting-Toom, to sit there by the
window, chiselling group of fruit
bird or fish, and whistling softly to
himself as he worked while Rose sat
in her rocking chair grooming TO her
sleeping babe
And Kathleen, the widowed, the
heart broken, what was her life in
these days of restored peace? She was
very quiet She bore her sorrow with
n silent resignation which was more
pathetic than loud wailings or passion
ate tears. But Rose would have liked
better to see her weep more. That
bloodlcss face, those fixed and hollow
eyes. that slow and heavy step-the
step which had once been so light
and swift upon the Stair-those long
intervals of silence and apathy. were
not these the indications of a broken
hcartF
Rose Durand did all in her power
to comfort the mourner She tried TO
persuade her sister TO surrender the
apartment on the upper story, and to
occupy a little room off Philips work
shop; a mere closet; but Rose could
furnish it, and make it a pretty nest
for her darling; and then Kathleen
would be her child again, always under
her watchful care She would share
I'll their meals, live with them alto
gether and the company Of the little
Oh ~ Of tf,
telligencc, would soothc and amuse
her
You are very good, dear" answer
ed Kathleen mechv, when this scheme
was pressed upon her; you and Philip
have been all goodness to me. But
like to live alone, Just now. ! am not
tit company for any one And again
if if with Il profound sigh-"it--
he should come back, and lind his
rooms altered, his books disturbed
it would seem as If / had not really
loved him.
Rose was silent Tin this moment
she had supposed that Kathleen was
absolutely convinced of her husbands
death, that the black gown she wore
was the sign of hopeless widowhood;
but these words told of a lingering
hope, and after this Rose no longer
urged her sister to give up the apart
ment 1t was better she should 20 on
hoping until the thin thread Of hope
wore out than that she should sink
all at once into the gulf of an absolute
despair. Better, too, that she should
have the daily occupation of arranging
her rooms, busting Gaston's books
opening a volume now and theI and
looking at page, rs if it held his own
words, There We're pages of Musset's
poetry which seemed to speak to her
with her husbands voice, so often
had he read the lines to her in their
brief married life She knew all his
books and knew the measure Of his
love for each
Every morning she put a little bunch
Of flowers on his writing table by the
window And yet in her heart Of
hearts she was convinced that he was
dead and that it was his blood she
had seen staining the dusty ground in
lti NAi 'tl VII NAlf y NllAif u llllltt Anu
then when this work of dustng polish
ing and arranging everything was
done, work over which she fingered
lovingly, she would Dut On her little
black bonnet, with a thick Grape veil
on or her face, and 80 out and wander
about the streets ana the quays, and
loter on the bridges, hearing al that
could be heard of the public news.
People respected that black gown and
bonnet, and the thick mourning veil
She was recognized as one of the
many mourners who had been left be
hind after the awful tide of blood ana
fire had rolled over Paris. Lonely as
she was young, beautiful, no one mo
Tested her. She went from place to
place, secure in the majesty of her
desolation
She saw the long files of insrgent
prisoners led along the streets, fasten-
ed together by their elbows, with
lowered heads, still fierce and shud
dering from the bloody battle guarded
10y Gordon Of soldiers She saw the
crowd 1inging itself say