The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1893-02-05

woman. Rose, Rose, bring q ight QUICK
""
Madam rang with all her strength. Rose
appeared. lamp in nsnd. AID the first thing
Valentine cav on the mantel was q ticket
for the "Glass DistatT"
"Ah, heavens! So much the worse. Rose.
dress Inc. lily mauve gown, quick. I'm
going to the theate-."
A quarter OF an hour later Nine. de Ter
mouse, covering i'll her coupe. astonished,
frightened. happy, trembling with fear,
troubled by her own perfumes, with eyes
half closed, saw again loving child bestow-
ing kisses in dingy little room.
They had found each other. He was
handsome; she was young. She had written,
IF you recognize my writing come. Sun
day, over there, where some one used to
love"
II he recognized the writing! He would
have known it from a thousand. He, too,
remembered the little room on the first
floor of the inn, the room with faded paper
and red chairs. He knew that there she
would await him.
Nothing had changed in their nest Of
love. Only the servant had grown very
old.
With what a good appetite-the appetite
Of youth-they ate brown bread and drank
blue Wine
How lovely you are" he said. She
blushed and smiled. They began life anew.
They wished even to be poor, to suffer as
they had suffered
Indeed, they played at poverty. They
went to the little creamery. She dipped
her roll into the cup of chocolate and he
ate nothing because Of love and economy.
In the evening they visited the theater.
Aurelian furiously applauded an imaginary
Valentine, while the real Valentine-she Of
the past, she OF the present, she of always
leaned against him in the box.
Coming out she would not let him take a
carriage. She walked in the mud, under
tho stars. She demanded:
g You haven't paid the rent. DO you
think that they will let us have the keyp'
They lived again. Never had they been
so tender so happy.
Alb, life was lovely! Henceforth their
fates should be inseparable, and death itself
should not dare to divide them.
One evening when Valentine, dressed
and sitting before the fire was waiting for
a carriage to take her TO her lover, Rose
entered with letter from Aurelisn. She
trembled with joy at the sight OF his writ
ing. All! their love, their youth They
had found everything intact and delicious.
This is what Aurelian wrote: You lie
end lie. Do not come this evening; do
not come tomorrow; do not come ever
again. II you have any pity for me and
shroud yourself within it.
You are beautiful, it is true; am
young, it is true; we do not love each other.
We are like the dead who parody their old
existence. In drinking the other day at
Vesinet, the wine at the inn, the smile l
essayed began with an unseen
grimace. You thought me stupid even
when you cried: Whist wit he has, Let
US finish this sbsurd,farce o, Valentine,
nothing begins again. For man, all which
has happened is finished forever. We have
but one love and one spring, which never
return. And know that IN seeking to re-
vive in US dead joys you have not only
made us suffer now. We have killed the
past. 1t is that which is so horrible
"a month ago, when l was sad L dreamed
Of you. he memory Of our love was my
refuge against cavils, weariness, disgust
You whom did not love, but whom had
loved, you consoled me. When you suffered
l consoled you, also, did l not? We had
within something pure and clear which
Gained US, and the past shone upon the
present At our age one has no more illu-
sions. Young, dreams precede us; old, they
follow.
"Ah, we'll! We have slain our dreams.
which was our only refuge from the bitter
ness Of every day.
How sweetly l remember our love din
ners at Nesinet! You clone should have
had the right to enter that little room at the
inn where | had loved So Another woman
entered-you, and yet not you. You are
plump, l loved you slender. You are brill
liant, loved you stupid. Between you and
me some one has come, and that one is you!
Once | had no happiness which was not a
Renaissance. When some one said TO me,
Il love you" | was happy, because it re-
minded me that you had loved me, that
had loved you. that had felt the strength
OF loving All, what now. this moment,
can persuade me that l live when that
which made me live exists no more?
Can we cast away the memory of these
horrible days which will darken forever the
unspeakable joys of our youth9 o, let US
try Farewell forever Flee from me!
will fee from you, and will strive to forget
In order that we may rememberw
Valentine dropped the latter; she was
quiet a long time as though without
thoughts; only with the end OF the tongs she
tormented on the hearth the dying fire.
Under an arch of cinders there was spark
still burning The cinder fell and the spark
disappeared.
"Ah," said she, "he is right In playing
with the cInders we have smothered the
LITTLE fire that was left"
IS said, this is a French story. Yet
there is some savage truth in it which may
after all be Of value to the readers CT
CARRIE CARELESS.