Democratic Northwest and Henry County news. [volume] (Napoleon, O. [Ohio]) 1894-1905, 1894-05-24
PAL0TTE.

Il
dat had q melancholy and romantic
awakening, and felt ''vagueness Of
soul, which TO her seemed very consid.
/ cradle.
Her husband, the head OF the house
OF Cladat, Mastock & Co., feather and
lower commission merchants and ex-
porters, was away from home hunting.
Madame Cladat had retired the night
before very early, and had awakened
very late and was leaning on her elbow
reading fashionable novel. The sub
| ject was vastly exciting. 1t was a
| question OF finding out whether the
wife OF tho Marquis de B, aban-
doned by her first lover, the Baron de
c., could in common delicacy, &C.
cept the homage OF the Count de
| D..
The SUCCESS OF this novel had been
instantaneous - the "thirtieth thou
sand" was already on the market-and
the author, good man Of business, be-
lieving in the old saying, ito strike
while the iron was hot" had hastened
to prepare another work, in which
this time, duchess, after having in
| fictsd the unhappiness OF Menelaus
upon the duke, her husband, and had
rendered O count and marquis in
turn, the happiest Of mortals, In the
last chapter responds to the passion OF
| baron, without for one moment, 80
graceful and charming had she been
throughout, losing the respect and
| sympathy of respectable people.
Pretty Madame Cladat, twenty-five
years OF age and childless, married to
merchant, great huntsman and poll
itician, passed her time ordinarily in
reading just this style of literature. No
fiction interested her unless it placed
under her eyes with high-aown hyper.
bole, and in the midst of aristocratic
| fittings, the fall OF titled woman. Not
being in society herself, though very
rich, she read all these impure and se-
ductive novels and was filled with o
respectful envy.
Though enervated and her head
| filled with frivolous and unhealthy
reveries, pretty Madame Cladat had
| in reality nothing as yet with which to
reproach herself. She had been born
into an old Partisan bourgeoisie family,
whore honor still held the first place
and where the daughters were well
brought up. Besides, good habits con.
tracted In childhood are not so quickly
lost. However, the young wife, mar
ried to dull and heavy husband much
older than herself, was bored almost 10
death, and nothing is more dangerous
to virtue than this.
M. Cladat never by any chance In
vited other than dull business men
like himself to dinner, and while at Ia
BILE the sole topic of conversation re-
lated to his glorious carnage OF hares
and paPtridges. Madame Cladat (se-
rious symphony often hid doleful
yawn behind her little hand. She had
even come to the conclusion that her
best days were those in which her hus-
band absented himself, to go to the
village OF Seine-et-Marne, of which he
was mayor, whore he massacred peace
full buPpowers or inoffensive 1utterers;
or tormented the cure by relating
some vexatious dellberation Of the mu-
nicipal council A phenomenon inf.
njtely more disquieting was the fact
that Madame Cladat no longer found
any pleasure in shopping in the
large, fashionable stores.
But to tell the truth, she had fir
tation On hand.
I At the house Of one Of her friends
who was the wife of dramatist, Mad
ame Cladst had made tbs acqusintspoe
school, Alfred O'Gaga. With his LONG
, blonde hair, he passed hipself of as
On Irishpan, from whence bis pseu
! domino, In reality he was called Isidore
Lepifre, and his father. who gave him
O liberal allowance, was a retlner In
Picardy. Their Irritation, gradually
growing more serious, had resulted ir
letter-one Of many-just received
in which the lover reminded his friend
the husband being absent-that she
had promised to join him that day in q
visit to the Louvre.
4 But Madame Cladat was not alto
gether fool. It was not merely {
question, as she well understood, OF lis
tening to lot Of nonsense, spoken be
fore some pretty badly drawn figures
OF men, on golden background; i
was O question of going to meet c
! young man, In love with you, for the
first time. This was becoming serious
and the pretty little bourgeoise hest
: tated.
es At Q O'Clock, did she so will 1t, she
could recognize standing in ecstasy be-
fore fresco, In tho long gallery giver
over to the antique. Isidore's tall per
son, changing from one foot to the
othag to rest himself. Indeed. she haG
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