The Press., 1894-01-04
tb;s they would lose a large amount,

Alas. his letters announced nothing goodl
 But in the meantime what is the con- nection between this disaster and Fred erick's love for Antoinette?
 All, yes, yes! Becoming rich through his wife, the lieutenant would have come to his brother-in-law's rescue.
 Julia, moved to tears, was saying:
 And then Jacques is so kind. so dili- how he loves your sister and what hap piness she owes Linn! An, ruin. priva- tions-that is nothing! The hard part is that man like Jacques should bear the undeserved stain of kind of disgrace. Will it ever be granted to me to console him?"
 In his turn the young man kept quiet, lowering his eyes, thinking of this mar riase which might have saved his rela- tives.
 But while lowering his eyes he saw his red ribbon, and it seemed to him he heard an interior voice repeating the sen- tence he had just uttered, 'It would not be acting like gentleman" He also saw that Martha no longer curled her dolls wig. Sitting on the around motionless and silent. the child was looking at her mother, who wept si-- lently. She wept--in silence also. "Julia," said the young man soberly, ''go, in my name. to ask for Mile. Bour- geois' hand"
 At lastr' triumphantly exclaimed An toinette's mother after Julia had formu- lated her request. Then calling her l daughter she added in the same joyful tone: "Come-he has come to it! An swer, darling. Tell-tell how backward we found hiln!'
 A lovely smile, so chaste in its frank ness, lit up the young girls face and l without speaking she advanced toward l Mime. Duchemin with extended hands. Then, kissing her:
 Il am so happy" she exclaimed 1 bravely.
 The very next day Frederick began his "wooing," as it is called. Yet what strange thing! He, so out spoken till then-so open and so gay was formal now, circumspect, stilted, almost unpleasant. Goodby to intimate chatter" to all freedom! He chose his | words carefully. No more jokes nowl At first Antoinette was disconnected by it, but surmounting her painful inn pression she appeared happy enough for l two. She was the first to speak of their l plans, saying. as if Inadvertently. "these ! dear plans"
 He still called her ''mademoiselle, :" while she called him Frederick. She consulted him about the details of their future home. What shade did he pre- | fer for the curtains? And when they were passing the glass works, stepping l to kiss Martha. she prompted:
 Say Good morning, Aunt Fred.'"
 
 The attorneys had taken the matter in hand. Everything was ready, for the lieutenant had told his sister:
 .'Act for me. Have the settlements drawn to suit yourself" As for him, to all questions he an- 1 swered:
 "Yes. All right. As you please" So much so that at last Julia took him aside and said to him:
 'Take care, Fred. Take care lest you grieve this child"
 "Grieve her!' he repeated, startled. 1t would cause me the most bitter re- l morse" l "Yet one would think you do not love her.
 Mot love herr' exclaimed the young man. ''I would be the most ungrateful fellow. Oh, or the contrary, love her with all the power of my soul, of my conscience and of my probity. Devoid of feeling as l may appear, my heart is all her own. admire, and adore her. An, why is she not poor? You would see-you would see then, Julia," he add ed, relapsing into his darker mood.
 The eventfu1 day was fixed. The bans were to be published.
 After dinner the lieutenant accom- panied the ladies home, walking by their side along the road. At the door they bade one another goodby. After that word had been spoken Antoinette re- mained at Frederick's side, very close to him. She appeared to await something.
 He understood. And once more low ering his eyes he saw the red ribbon lit by the last rays of the setting sun. And as in an hallucination in the rustling of the leaves he thought he heard again, "It would not be acting like 8 gentle man."
 Then, dazzled, he stepped back, and in a choking voice said: ''Listen! My heart is bursting. Even if unsettle every thing, Imust speak. must tell you''-
 What? Everything! He stated every thing indeed-the situations, his scru- ples, his great sorrow.
 Antoinette and her mother sought to interrupt him, repeating" "But-but'' -
 He did not listen. He went on to the end. And then only were they able to finish their sentence:
 "But-we know itP'
 What! You know that my sister and her husband are threatened with''-
 Certainly, we know it," said the widow. And this is why we hurried the conclusion, which will at last give us the right to ward off the misfortune they do not deserve"
 "And you. Antoinette?"
 Somewhat confused, she replied:
 "I? Oh, I had but one fear-not to please eyou!"-NewY Y ork Commercial Ad- vertiser.
 Polly as a Pastor. -.. | AAoAo " tIo " peaAAoC o1C0 IAdC OoIouSou to clergyman. In the circumstances of that gentleman's household Polly nat urally became religious and learned sev- eral phrases of it's masters profession. One day this irresponsible worshiper got, nobody knew how. into church while service was going on. AS it was behav- ing itself nobody disturbed it, where it sat perched on pew, for the remedy might have proved worse than the evil.
 As for evil. the parrot never thought of it. At last the clergyman announced a hymn.
 "Let us sing." said he. ''tLe four hun dred and first hymn,"
 But at this point it was found that Polly Was in another frame of devotion | Immediately after the priests announce