The Bottineau pioneer. (Bottineau, N.D.) 1885-1895, 1894-06-23

c,rh RI 4 man resigned, while SylVihe
.an. ;or the old servant to light the
.ha1,,Iier down the stairs. But II vas
Che ,,crsclf who, tottering beside hiin
to tl,e door. stood watching him Slowly
descend the staircase n .caned altsl
him. always, with the same note Oh ten-
| der. maternal anxiety In her qulVefins
voice: $500 mhor
| that last step!' .o
zone night-one winters night, the
-! little salon was very warm. Mademoi,
! selle Swine. knowing her friend woul9
| come in chilled and weary, had ordered
an extra fire, and the tea was served
| hot and strong. Their game or gards
was over. and the chevalier, accorolns
, to his custom, had drawn MS cha''
| close to Sylvine's.
"Ah! Swine, do you remember!---.
The neace and warmth of the nttle
salon was Irresistible. The ole voices
! died away the old eyes grew heavy De
| hind their glistening s~pectacles;
"How could you b, so cruol!' :skeo
tn: chez alier drowsily. ~
But Mademoisella Sylvine lid not re
spond. -.
Her hand lay in his.
The ~cheyalier'S eyes closed Sot'ly.
Mademoiselle Sylvine d'Outreval ana
: tho Cheyalier de NauvricOurt slept
! peacefully side by side in their easy
efairs. still dreaming of their youth.
| In the kitchen below, the old serv-
ant woman fell asleep waiting for the
sound of the bell.
The gray-green parrot nodded on MS
perch.
The candles burned down to their
asckets. f1ickered wildly, and W.T. out.
The lamp and the fire died together.
The little salon lay in silence
darkness, until the gray dawn came ana
peered in at the window, through the
chinks of the closed blinds. $500,
A little while longer n the Dlras
sang good-morrow in the trees at the
corner of the square.
Then, suddenly, the chimes rang OUT
from the cathedral towers, and calico
the faithful to mass-to the first mass
of the O O A market woman rattled
down the Rue DIES RecOlletc. A sard1ne
vender woke the echoes with his str1-
dent cries. A dog parked madly just
beneath the windows of the little house
in the shadow of the church towers:
Madecoiselle Sylvine Enclosed her
eyes.
She was in a very uncomfortable
position.
How was this?
She had been sleeping bolt upright!
She passed her hand over her eyes.
What?
She had, then, slept in her mitts!
She tried to rise. She was very stif,
but she managed to get upon her feet,
and Immediately she sank back in her
chair with a cry Of alarm.
A sound of gentle breathing had
reached her ear-she had turned her
head to behold Nj. de NauvricOurt, his
perruque on n side, his cravat twist
eded beneath his ear, soundly sleeping
in the armchair at her side.
Her cry awoke him, and he sprans
straight upon his feet, although they
shook beneath him, wide awake and
ready for immediate ~duty-like the
brave and gallant soldier that he was
He stood for an instant wholly un'
comprehending the position. Then the
little salon in it's gentle disorder-the
empty tea-cups, the chill CRATE, the
gray morning light, the two chairs side
by side, and in one of them MademOi
sellc Sylvine weeping bitterly-and the
Chevalier de N~auvricourt had mastered
the situation.
"Alas! what a misfortune!v sobbei
Sylvine.
She was thinking of the terrible thins
that had happened to her-tO her, Thu
Immaculate One-of whom, in all bel
long, chaSte cherries existence no ont
had dared to breathe an unktnd word
And the neighbors who would not fai
to see NJ. de Nauvricourt leave tn
~house-ah! what a scandal! And the OLE
servant, who would find them in thil
plight-oh! what a loss Of reputation
and respect!
ALAS! alasr sobbed Sylvine.
The Chevalier de Nauvricourt put hi
hand to his head. He found his wi.
awry. He carefully Strengthened it
and then ~rearranged his cravat. H,
smoothed down the shoulders ant
sleeves of his coat, and gave a glanc,
at the buckles of his shoes. Then
drawing himself up with a dignifet
and military air, he cleared his throaI
as a man will do when he has some
thing of Importance to say, and, ad
vanoing toward Mademoiselle d'Outre
~val-sobbing in her easy chair, he be
gan respectfully:
"Mademoiselle. There is one way II
which I may remedy this wrong 1 have
unintentionally done you, in which
may repair the unfortunate conse
Quences of Observation-Disclosures. VIII
you do me the honor to become my
wife,"
Mademoiselle d'Outreval trembled,
and the tears streamed from her faded
eyes and stole between her fingers
when she put up her hands in thei1
black mitts to hide them. She shook
her head convulsively.
! The .cheYalier's manner suddenly