Spirit of Jefferson. [volume] (Charles Town, Va. [W. Va.]) 1844-1948, 1894-03-20
AN OLD MAID.

Everybody wondered how Mile. Ange-
lire Majolin happened to be an old maid.
They all admitted that she was charm
ing. Her head was bound with heavy
braids of glossy hair, and her beautiful
black eyes were full of pathetic gentle
ness. She lodged in the fourth story of
tenement on the Rue Boursault alone
with her blind mother, whom she attend
ed constantly. These ladies received no
company, but although they sought to
attract no attention at any time who
ever met them could not help feeling in
terested in them and that some sad mys-
terry surrounded their seclusion.
The family of Majolin was 80 years
ago one of the richest and most infiuen-
tial in the province. Unhappily NJ. Ma
JOHN was gambler. He engaged in all
sorts of speculations in order to recover
the money which he had lost in play.
When he saw ruin staring him in the
face, he killed himself. Mime. Majolin
was doubly stricken by the loss of for
tune and the violent death of her hus-
band, whom, although he had caused her
much suffering, she still loved dearly.
And, alas, her misfortunes did not end
here. Her eldest son had inherited the
unfortunate failing of his father. AT
last, in order to evade Justice, he fed to
the colonies and was never heard from
again. The only other remaining son
perished in hunting accident.
The poor lady then had left to her but
a single child, her daughter Angeline.
They removed to a small farm, which
was attached to the grand castlein which
they had once lived. There they man
70
place and few rentals, all that remain
ed of their once ample fortune. Here
grief and tears soon caused Nine. Majolin
to lose her sight, which day by day grew
duller until she became blind.
Notwithstanding the isolation and sad
ness in which these two women lived,
the beauty of Angeline, in spite of its
somewhat serious and melancholy char
acter, could not fail to attract attention.
As she approached her twentieth year
two young men began to show marked
admiration for her. One of them in par
ticular was very assiduous.
It was their cousin, Maxine de Grand
lieu, a young man of noble presence, n
delightful companion, talented, strong
and high spirited. He had just finished
his studies and had come to the country
for season of rest before entering upon
the brilliant career which he had marked
out for himself and which his great for
tune rendered possible.
The innocent and tender heart of An
geline responded at once to the young
mans evident affection. A mysterious
but delightful bewilderment would pos
sess her after a waltz upon Maxime's
arm. Enchanted by the music and their
own happiness, they loved to linger for
a moments talk by themselves in the en-
brasure of window, or they would ex-
change the flowers that they wore, she
taking hers from her corsage and he his
from his coat.
They had still other joys together.
Among these not the least were their
rambles among the fields, bathed in the
delicious light of sunset. When they
were tired or desired to study nature
more attentively, they sat down at the
base of the great trees and rested under
their heavy shadows. Since their souls
were simple and united, they spoke little.
AT other times, when the sick mother
gently complained that she was left alone
too often, they remained together in the
parlor, where the majestic portraits of
their ancestors looked down upon them
with sort of grave indulgence. If he
delayed to come, she would advance as
far as the stairway, holding in her hand
a bunch of white roses. When he began
to climb the steps, she would playfully
pelt him with the white petals.
Smilingly he would advance under this
snowy avalanche, happy in the knowl-
edge that he was beloved.
However, shadow invisible to Ange-
line menaced her happiness even while
she was in the first bloom of her new
felicity.
Maxine, naturally averse to every
thing that was dolorous and dismal,
gradually conceived strong aversion
for Nine. Majolin. The sight of her
melancholy face spoiled all his joy. He
was one of those who are chilled and re-
pulsed by grief and infirmity, as if a
deadly contagion lurled within them.
The young girl, entirely wrapped up In
her love, was slow to perceive the dis
like which Maxine evinced toward her
blind mother, Even if she had observed
it, she would have called it simply the
natural neglect resulting from his utter
absorption in his love for herself.
at last one evening an explanation
took place. They were on the terrace.
Maxine de Grandlieu had taken Ange-
lines hand and for the first time had
kissed it very tenderly and passionately.
my dear one," he said, 'tit Is time
that our lives were blended together, foI
our hearts are einseparable. VIII you ac-
cept my name and my fortune? Wewin
travel. Your sad childhood has been
full of mourning. You will perhaps for
get your sorrow in my love. For the re-
mainder of your life you shall know nc
deprivation. We will go all over the world
rejoicing in our affection. Then we can
make our home in Paris. Your mother
can live here on her property, and we
can watch over and see that she wants
for nothing. OF course she would be
- - ,,1aT,a IN fI,a midst Of OI,1- a1eayapt