Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1893-11-03


spirits. Sunday dances at these gardens are
| sacred to the people. There is very little
| admixture of the demi-mOnde on a Sunday
evening; the clerk and the counter-jumper,
the little industries of Paris, have the field
to themselves.
The journalist and his far-haired sweet.
heart did not reappear in the quadrile.
They were saunterng side by side in the
shadowy walks, hearing the joyous music
vaguely; for the lowest whisper of a lovers
voice has more power on the li-tening ear
of love than the loudest orchestra that ever
crashed and jingled in the music of OTphee
dliI Enters or the GrGnde BucbeSSe.
"Why should Rose doom us to waIt?'
| pleaded the journalist, bending his dark
! ardent eyes on the fair sweet face beside
/ him. "What does poverty matter, il we
are true to each other and strong to conquer
! fortune, as we are, Kathleen? We can bear
q few privatiOns in the present, knowing
that Fate will be kinder in the future. |
! have won shred of reputation already,
! though write for such wretched rag Of a
| paper that can earn very little money; bur
! fame will come and money will follow be-
| Iore we are ten years older. At my ago
BaZac was no richer than | am"
II am not afraid of poverty" answered
the girl gently. "Why should / fear what
+ have known all my life? Rose and have
always been poor; but we have always been
happy: except once when she had the fever
All, that was heart-break pg! No money
TO pay doctor, no money for wine or fruit
or fuel, no money for the rent, and the deaf
~ fear of being turned out of our lodging
while she lay helpless and unconscious on
her bed. No prospect but the hospital. Yes,
those were dark days. l almost enyied the
RICH"
almost enved, my angel? l am made
Of different stuff, and hate and envy
them at all times. That hatred gives bitter
ness to my pen-rancOr acidity, all the
qualities our Parisians love. 1t is my chief
stock-in-trade. l could not live without it,"
"Ah, You feel the sting Of poverty more
than lido, because you come of a race that
was once rich, family that was once
mob e."
"YCs; come OF a decayed race-worn
out, cffete, passed by in the press and hurry
of Il commercial age That is why / hate
the insolent rOtuter brood that have bat
tened in the sunshine of imperial favor; the
stockholders and gamblers, corrupt TO the
core, and swelling with pride in the r dirty
gold. My grandfather was gentleman and
asolder; he fought for his king till the last
ray of nope had faded. And when his faith
full little band Of CaOuans were sea; tered or
slain, and he had escaped by the CkiK ~ his
teeth from being shot down by the Blues,
he shut himself up in the old stone tower of
his chateau, and lived among peasants, as
peasants live, and let his son and daughter
run wild. Iy father was very little in adj
vance Of his fathers farm-aborers in educa-
Al
n lad OF fifteen, soon after the restoration of
the Bourbons But lie was one of the hand
soonest men Of his day. He had good blood
in his veins; and it sCems somehow that
race will tell, for twenty years later he was
one of the finest soldiers in the French army.
He married rich wife, love her passion
ately, spent all her money, ruined her life,
and d ed broken-heartg 4 and pduper with-
In a year OF her death. leaving me to face
the world, penniless, and With very few
friends, at twelve years Of age. The L npire
was then in its golden dawn. O~e of my
first memories is of the Coup Eat, t.Ilt
awful night of the second of December,
when the bullets whisticd along the y puie-
ward PoisSOnnierc, like the haistones in a
summer storm. and the terrified wondering
bourgeois were mown down like ears o.
corn. My father was az The head OF his
regiment that night; and my mother and l
were looking down upon the scene from orr
apartment at corner OF the boulevard.
Two years later was an orphan"
go what hard childhood and youth YOU
must have hadp said Kathleen, full Of pity.
Not harder than yours, little one, You
and the sister have not had too much of the
sunshine of life, | take it,"
mo; but we have always been together
We have faced the storm side by side; or
perhaps l ought to say that Rose has faced
it bravey by herself and she tered me. But
you have been quite alone-no brother, no
sister,"
mot a creature of my own flesh and
blood" anSwerei MOrtemar. "If it had not
been for a bluff old brother-ofiicer Of my
fathers l must have starved, or been brought
up on state charity. He got me pension,
just enough to pay my schooling in hum
bic way, from the Emperor, in considera-
ton of my fathers services on the second
OF December, but this allowance was to
cease when L was eighteen. The influence
of my fathers old friend got me accepted at
one of the finest schools near Paris, the
school kept by the Dominican Fathers at
Arcueil, where / was educated at third of
the pension paid for the other pupils, by the
benevO.ence of the Prior, VINO p tied my
desolate position. Here | remained til my
eighteenth birthday; and / ought to be o
better man than i am after the care and
kindness those good monks lavshcd upon
me. When left school the good old friend
was dead, and from that time have had to
live somehow-by my own labor of head
or hands. believe it is considered the finest
training for youth; but it is hard, and it
harlens the heart and the mind of man."
''Iias it hardened your heart, Gaston?"
asked the girl, drawing lite closer to him
in the dim starlit avenue.
ITO all the world-except to you"
And now, at turn of the leafy path, they
came suddenly face to face with another
couple-a stalwart broad-shouldered man of
about thirty, with tall good-lookng young
woman upon his arm-at sight Of whom
Kathleen exclaimed lovingly,
"Rose, where have Philip ad nyou been
hiding all the EVENING""
1--WE have been looking on at the dancers,
Kathleen" answered Rose; land now j
think it is time we all went home"
80 soon?" cried Kathleen.
at has struck the three-quarters after ten.
Did you see Madame Michel I'm her fine bon