The Press., 1894-01-04
THE RED RIBBON.

Uncle Fred was simply a very nice fellow whose name was Frederick Bar rois. He was of good disposition. That could be read on his youthful face, such a youthful face that on seeing the mar row red ribbon in his buttonhole people sometimes asked him for his story. And he, to avoid the embarrassment felt in speaking of ones self. answered some what maliciously:
 II was born 2G years ago, and since then-nothing ever happened to me-"
 But it was not so. It happened to him that he had bravely won this red ribbon which showed so advantageously upon his breast. Having been sent to Tonquin as a cavalry officer, he had freed a bat tery of artillery which the enemies all ready believed in their possession.
 Unfortunately it also happened to him during the fight that he had received bullet in the side.
 As he had been too recently appointed lieutenant to be promoted to the rank of captain, he received instead the cross of the Legion of Honor, and this greatly helped to heal his wound. Still, how ever we'll healed it might have been, he remained very weak. He was sent home to become stronger.
 And this is how, for the last fortnight, he had been living in clover at the home of his sister, Mime. Julia Duchemin, Boves, near Amiens.
 Frederick was happy there, for he loved his sister, and lis sister loved him. There was but one drawback to his hap piness. His brother-in-law, Jacques Duchemin, had been obliged to leave on the day following the young officers ar rival.
 As compensation there was between the brother and the sister the latter's daughter, q girl just over years of age, who appeared delighted with Uncle Fred and with the gold lace of his uni form, and for whose benefit Frederick became a boy again.
 All the acquaintances they had-but with whom they sustained almost con- stant intercourse-were Mime. Bour- geois, widow. and her daughter An toinette, a young girl of IS.
 How pretty she was! Not so much ill regularity of feature, but in her sim plicity, her natural grace, her personal charm.
 As for Nine. Bourgeois, she was kind ness itself, but a jovial, indulgent, sen- sible, smiling kindness.
 Mother and daughter were charming pair.
 rT1,ot io xUbot o17T voupo man had as. certained at once, to his no small satis- faction. He found an attraction he had never before experienced in meeting these ladies. Were they late in coming! Time seemed heavy to him. And if his sister advised him to go for them off he went at once. It was not far, it is true. Three hum dred yards from the glass works. They lived in large villa, surrounded by a fine park, which belonged to the young girl ill her own right, without counting other property which it was rumored ] amounted to over million. But Frederick did not care for that. It was the young girls character which attracted him. One morning after breakfast Freder- ick was smoking a cigar in the garden by his sisters side, in whose skirts the little Martha was diligently curling her dolls wig.
 At the table they had spoken of An toinette, and now-now they still spoke of her. Then after a moment of silence Frederick said, with q sigh:
 "What a pity she is so rich!'
 "Why?" asked Julia, looking steadily at her brother, with eyes full of anxiety.
 ''To woo young girl you know to be millionaire, when besides your salary you scarcely have $3,OOO year, would not be acting like d gentleman.
 To her brothers surprise, Julia did not answer. She had turned her head aside. He put his hand on her shoulder, with heavy heart, exclaiming:
 You are crying! What is the matter? What ails you"
 "Nething?' she replied, with smile drowned i'll tears.
 The young man kneeled before her, and putting his arms around her said:
 "Julia! Julia! have but you in the world. Ycu have some sorrow. Oh, l beg of you do not hide it from me! Sis ter, dear little sister! You have no right to conceal it from me-
 She hesitated for a moment; then in a low voice, in accents choked with sobs, she whispered her confidence. It was simple and short.
 A bank suspended payment. Through