The sun. [volume] (Morris, Stevens County, Minn.) 1882-1895, 1894-06-14
THE AWAKENING.


which slept in the shadow of the cathed-
raj towers. Mademoiselle Sylvine was
a little wrinkled, faded, feeble old
woman, with scarcely strength enough
to drag herself from one easy chair to
another, who passed the solitary hours
coaxing the fire with her trembling
hands cased in their black mitts; los
ing the dreary present in little maps
which brought dreams of a happy past,
and listening to the perpetual anu I'M
changing inanities of her garrulOus gray
green parrot.
No clock told the gentle passage Of
time in the lonely, silent salon. Time
was of little account to Mademoiselle
Sylvine. She was alone in the world,
the last of her name. and she had out
lived earthly hopes and earthly re-
gretS. She awaited the summons to
brighter existence with the patient faith
of the devout believer. She had ceased
even to count the years which, piled
one upon the other, were slowly crush
ing her beneath their weight, and which
had already narrowed the limits Of her
life until she was reduced to the COM
paniOnship of a faithful servant as
aged as herself, and one poor, old
cheyalier of Malta, who had adOred
Mademoiselle dOutreval in the far
away time of her youth.
He adOred her still, and every even
ing at the same hOur-as the faithful
go to worship-the Chevalier de Nauvri-
court left his lodgings at the other end
of Paris, and, in his pePruque and his
buckled shoes, with the aid of his gold
headed cane, he hobbled across the city
to drink tea and play cards with Ma
demoisele Sylvine
Between these two old people existed
nm Notwithstanding and peaceful-as
sweet and touching as the faint fra
GRANGE of winter roses, whose petals,
dropping at a touch, suggest the falling
of snow.
They never disputed, evincing for each
other always the same delicate cOnsid-
Grafton and a tenderness strong yet
timid
They forgot their great age; they
saw in each other no trace of time;
they even cherished dreams and fancies
as pure as they were viSiOnary-likc
those f1eeting, fairy pictures the ice
shows to the sun.
Sylvine had filled the narrow lodging
of NJ. de Neuvricourt with absurd tri-
hes which Uttered his bureaus and
etageres; with gay bits of Old-fashioned
peedlework. symbolic embroideries, and
sentimental drawings in the Stilted and
t'npoSsibl. style of other days.
The cheyalier patiently economical
his meager pension and denied himself
even his precious tobacco d'ESpagne for
the greater luxury of sometimes offer
ing SlyYine bunch of early viOlGtS or
little package of burnt almonds.
And every night they sat at the card
! table. the yellow light from the lamp,
| with its great shade of lace, streaming
: over them, their bird-like silhouettes
| dancing Enthusiastically on the wall, their
| Withereq fingers trembling among the
| eards-counting points in their feeble
| voices, rejecting graFely at every criti=
! cal point iR the game, laughing shrilly
at each small victory
Weakened to youthful animation by
| this simple diversion, their spectacles
| glistehed as their old heads nodded I'M
| certainly and the the fragrant steam
rose gently from the cups on the table
| beside them,
AID when the game was ended, the
| cheyalier would draw his chair close to
| SHlyine's. venture an ol1tlme compli-
| ment On the aroma Ut her DQldre de
| riz, or the color of her ribbons, imprint
| kiss on her Wrist-tirst, audaciOusly
| rushing aside the black lace mitt, and
| still holding the wrinkled hand which
| Sylvine abandoned t. his clasp, he
| would murmur with reproachful ten
| derneSS:
DO you remember, my heart, how
| cruel you were to me in the pdst!'
And Sylyine would reply with Il sigh,
| and together their thoughts wandered
| back to the days when they were young
| and gay and lived only for each other;
| yet when he li;id' taken her hand and
| pushed aside her glove, as now, to kiss
| the Wrist-then young aud fair, she had
| only tossed her head and drawn her
hand away. And when she met his
passionate protestatiOns with her sweet
| incredulous laughter and IL hooking
CLEAN iii her velvet eyes, and at last
turned from him trilling q foolish air,
he had flung himself away In bitter All
ger and gone to risk his life In twenty
battles, as one would play a ]ouis on a
green table. + ; =.
do YOU remember, Sylvine?"
And Mademoiselle O0'atreYal, smiling
gently, would muir muir at last:
"Ah! my dear cheyalier; and if it had
been otherwise, would we have been
the same good friends we are tQ-day?'
And NJ. de Nauyricourt sighed the
sigh of man resigned, while SylYine
rang for the old servant to light the
chevalier down the stairs, But it was
she herself who, lettering beside hin
TO the door, stood watching him slowly
descend the staircase and called after
him, always; with the same note of ten
der, maternal anxiety IN her quiYeriag
voice:
above all, dear friend, remember
that last stepr'", - 49,
o'"One Ifight-one winters night, the
little salon was very WARM. 'Mademoi
Sele SytHfne, knowing her friend woul(
come fn chilled and Weary, had ordered
aa extra IRE, aid the tea was served
lot r aadd s fFG "EF heir game of gard.
was OVER, and the eheyiiet,' according
to his custom, had drawn! his eAafJl
close to Sylvine's.
"Ah! Sylvine, do you remember?'--
The PEACE and warmth of the little
salon was Irresistible. Fhe old voices
died away, the old eyes grew heavy he
hind their glistening spaetaGles.
GLOW could you BE- 50 eru1lf f,sket
til. chevalier drowsily.
| But MGdemoi sella Sylvine lid not re
| sp0pd.
/ ,u 49, hand lay in his.
The chevalier's e,I ciose" 80. y.
Mademoiselle Sylvine dOutre, "'N
the Chevalier de Nauvricourt SLEEP
peacefully side by side in their easy
chairs, still dreaming of their youth.
In the kitchen below, the old serv
ant woman fell asleep waiting for thu
sound of the bell.
The gray-green parrot nodded on hi
perch. .
The candles burned down to thei
sockets, tlickered wildly and went out
/ Uba In mn md tho fiIn din1 tnCpfhpl