The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1893-08-02

impression on the mind, There was
no love in IL. Irecalled the particular
sensation from the depths of my men,
ory, but nothing more.
Little by little, however, the shad-
ows cleared away, and the face of a
young girl rose before my eyes. Then
her name, Mile. de Mandal, flashed
upon my mind. Now 1 remembered
everything 1t was, in fact, a love-
story, but an ordinary one. This
young girl loved this young man when
met them, and people spoke of their
coming marriage.
raised my eyes to the rack where
all those bundles were trembling with
the motion of the train, and the SER
wants voice returned to me as though
he had just finished speaking. He had
said:
"There, sir, that Ia all. There are
five bundles; the sweetmeats, the doll,
the drum, the gun and the pates de .foie
gras."
In second n romance wns composed
and unrolled in my mind. II resem-
bled all the romances which one 80
often reads, in which the young man
or the young woman marries his or
her choice after overcoming all the
obstacles. SO this officer, mutilatcd
during the war, had again found, after
the campaign, the young girl who was
pledged TO him, and keeping her en-
gagement, she had married him.
considered that to be beautiful, but
simple, just as we judge to be simple
all the heroic actions in books and nt
the theatre. When we read or listen
at these schools of magnanimity, we
always feel that we should have sacri-
feed ourselves with nm enthusiastic
pleasure and magnificent impulse.
But we are always in bad humor on
the following day, when wretched
friend comes to borrow money.
Suddenly, another supposition, less
poetic and more realistic, replaced the
first one. Perhaps this officer had been
married before the war, before this
frightful accident had cut off his feet,
and his wife had been obliged, grieved
and resigned, to receive, care for, con-
sole and sustain this hu .band who had
started off strong and handsome, but
who now returned, after having lest
his feet, fright ul wreck, condemned
to immobility, mpotent anger and
fatal obesity.
Was he happy or tortured? / was
seized with an irresistible desire to
know his history, or at least the princi-
pal points of it, which would permit
me to divine what he could not or
would not tell me.
talked with him while thinking at
the same time. We had exchanged n
few commonplace remarks, and as L
raised my eye to the rack, thought
to myself: $50 he has three children /;
she sweetmeats are for his wife, the doll
for his little girl, the drum and gun
for his sons, and the lDates de JOie gras
for himself"
Suddenly, asked him: "You are n
fnther?"
"No, "he replied.
1 felt confused, rs though had COM
mitted an impropriety, and continued /:
81 beg your pardon. I thought
you were, in hearing your servant
speak of playthings. We often hear
without listening, and draw conclu-
sions, in spite of ourselves"
He smiled and murmured: "No, 1
am not even married. 1 stopped at
the preliminaries.
pretended to remember all at once.
"Ah, that's true; you were engaged
when knew you,-to Mile. de Mandal,
believe"
eyes, Monsieur, your memory is
excellent"
1 was excessively nudacious, and
added: 81 also have a vague idea of
having heard that Mile. de Mandal
married Monsieur-M -Monsieur--"
Monsieur de Fleurel," he inter-
rupted in calm tone.
"Ies, that's it. remember, even,
to have heard about your wound"
l looked at him intently, and lie
blushed. His full, puffy face, already
purple from the constant affiux OF
blood became still more highly colored.
He replied with the animation and
sudden ardor of man who pleads a