Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1894-05-25

Durande yielded. once more Went out,
| frequented the quarters of his brother
officers, Joined in their jollifyiug. and
actually one evening carried them all
home with him to banquet in his own
apartments. The wine was good. the
champagne sparkling, daughter, songs,
uproar the order of the yht; when the
supper ended they all adjourned to the
private Office, where the mortuary
shrine stood alone upon the table, severe
and mournful.
| Revelry ran riot, in the midst of
which Durande suddenly recalled the
presence of the dead" as he was wont
| to call the urn. caught it up hurriedly,
darted from the room and deposited it
in an upper chamber, piled with a
bachelors litter of old books, boots and
| firearms.
Next morning, determined that pro-
fanation like that of the previous night
should not happen again, he resolved to
turn this lumber room, where he had
temporarily deposited the precious re-
mains, into a mortuary chapel, and gave
instant orders for cathedral window
and niche and altar to be placed be-
meath it.
There the urn was again enshrined
but the lilies and roses had given place
| to lmmortelles Some days later, per-
ceiving that these bad lost color from
lack of air and light, Durande had them
changed for garlands of Sevres and
bisque of the costliest character, and
thus the urn stood peacefully in this
calm retreat.
Two years of widowhood heightened
to three. and Durande took unto himself
a second wife. Why, he couldn't have
told you Certainly it was not case OF
desperate love, though the new Nine.
| Durande was Il charming woman.
No, he had but one excuse for reflling
the empty niche in his life-Mme Du-
rande the second was exceedingly like
Nine Durande the first with one ex-
ception-she was jealous. A jealousy
! that caused her to look with suspicion
on every one, word or gesture, and the
| knowledge that he still retained tender
memories of the dead would have caused
her tempestuuus anger
Durande no longer dared to keep the
urn IN conspicuous place. 1t was
quietly and secretly third time re-
moved from it's quarters and reyerently
stored IN a spare room in the mansarde-
Matters grew better as time Wore on
Peace and happiness reigned with the
young couple, aud more than once Du,
rande, in this atmosphere Of renewed
content, was on the verge Of uubosoming
himself and coniding to his wife the
mystery Of the urn. Alas! his courage
always failed him.
| In due time son was born to the
house of Durande, and Nine Durande
found it necessary to clear out and use'
the room where the urn lay forgotten,
As for Durande himself, the Joy of a
new made father dissipated all remorse
in his heart, and to celebrate the chris
tening with due Iomp and splendor IN
vitations We're sent far and wide for a
magnificent dinner
But. my dear" said his wife as he
came in from the barracks the day Of
the great event. don't go to your dress
ing room till You have seen the table,
the flowers arranged with my own
hands.
Arranged! y great heaping cluster of
blood red roses--in an antique, strangely
familiar Roman urn, which held the
place of honor on the sumptuous board!
Durande bent closer. His wife saw
him start,
Yes" said she complacently, It's
yours, you dear old stupid, to throw
away us you have done the handsomest
thing collected in your trip to Italy! 1t
was up in the garnet filled with dust.
Heaven knows how long it has been
therer"
"Wi-with dustr' stammered Durande,
white as death, "and-and what did you
do with it, the--the dust?"
Threw it on the rose pots, dearest
that is, what the wind didn't scatter.
But the effect-isn't it lovely"
Very, very lovely" murmured the
soldier, with a strangled sigh. And in
the fresh, fragrant flowers, whose petals
parted softly, like the lips of young
girl to the first kiss of love, Durande
believed that he saw the tender smiles
and bushes of his dear, dead wife,
Short Stories.
l,.. VD.1yl I.,r