The Irish standard., 1895-11-09

perhaps Jean read to them by the fire.
light which illuminated the dark salon,
he living on the skin beside the hearth,
whose logs he and Pierre had helped to
bring in from the forest, or reading,
not by any means the news of the day
madame would have none of that now
more frequently old romances OF
derring-doe
When Beauxlieux came home with
the story of his adventures it was
Pierre.s eyes that opened at the men
ton OF palaces and great houses, and
he demanded even more particulars
than he'd struck Beauxlieux' sight It
was jean who asked about the people
unfolding the structure of the great
households on their shoulders. Jean
himself had been away on foot, more
than once now--no one knew where.
But even the duchess had seen the
light on his face sometimes when COM
ing back.
AZ shall have dwelling such as one
Of those" said Pierre Il shall house
my wife in palace. l go to Paris to
make my fortune.
'sYou like then this rotten SPLEEN
DOR cried the deep voice of Beaux-
lienx. from the shadow where he sat
by the duchess on the other side of
the wide hearth. ALIAS! 1t is only the
scum on a sea of filth and iniquity.
That laughter of the people who float
OYER it hear through it only the
groan of the people who produce it!'
81 shall not search too deeply" said
~.
world. Let me take the best of it
while it is going-money, jewels.
houses. horses"
sAnd YOU call that the best? Money
wrung out OF sweat? Idle glitter Of
Jewels while others have scarcely rags?
Houses that are giided seraglios, while
there are men and women sleeping on
wattles of straw
'sIt will not be my fault" said Pierre,
shat they sleep on straw. Pshaw!
When 1 am rich shall not keep it all
to myself. I shall take pleasure in
giving
He has read Of Alnaschar," said
Jean.
In giving!" cried Beauxlieux. ''There
is no giving! It is theirs! 1t is their
labor, their lives, their deprivation,
their want, their suffering, that made
all this money: no matter how you
come by it, It is theirs! You can give
them nothing. You can only restore
in part"
ssWhat puzzles me-" said Jean, sis
how these others can think that they
love the good God, and, knowing that
He lores ali men, be willing to wrong
any man. No, no, when I recollect
the story of Jesus, that He died for
men, Lhave felt myself unwilling to &C
cept the sacrifice. have felt that l,
too, must surrender myself, if not to
die. then to live for men. Never for
myself, only Tor them"
.sOh, Jean!'' cried Beauxlieux, clasp
ing his hand ''And I shall live with
you.'
II suppose Jean is going to be
priest?' said the pretty Victorine, with
a little insolent shrug.
"Not of any church, victorine, y said
Jean. 81 shall not need to be blessed
of the apostolic succession in order to
carry hope into dungeons.
..Oh, YOU make me cold at the heart
of me,'' cried Victorine.
Beauxlieux had now set himself seri-
t,islv at work to learn the profession
in which II. Etienne was SO accom-
piished He was not one under any
circumstances to be idle. His mother
had not wished this study, however;
she would have him wait, even it it
were in poverty, preserving his nobll-
it7. till the government should give
him his own again. But the hated en-
Dire had fallen. and it had been re-
placed bv the even more hated repub-
lie That had not signitied greatly to
her: it was never France to her, 1T
was always ''My son." But now even
Henry V. was dead. ''There is no
more hope,'' NJ. Etienne had declared.
Let his grace do as he Will" And 1t
was NJ. Etienne who found the means
for Beeuxlieux to go to Paris and finish
his undertaking. His mother had some
dim idea that all things were open to
him as his fathers son, as the last OF
his exalted name; she had no idea
whatever that the name now was re-
raembered only as a matter of history,
nor that in Paris the young duke was
known simply as Beauxlieux, student
OF promise from southwestern depart-
ment.
1. was on his twepty-frst birthday
that his mother formally made over to
him his possessions. He was little
sad about it-not that the chateau was
a~-uiu. the forest SO thin, the fields SO
few and bare but that his mother
should break her heart over these
affairs. For himself, he was full OF
strength and hope, and nothing matt
tered since he was we'll and was alive,l
since he had NJ. Etienne and Jean;
since. above ALL he had his mother.
His mother not yet in her fortieth
wear. was still beautiful, her hair black
as the ravens wing, her dark clear
skin as smooth as q girls, her eyes
glowing as the midnight stars, her
smile ileartwarnling. AS she stood IN
the warm light. for Olympic had candies
in every sconce, wearing that pale
primrose satin of more than twenty
wears ago, covered now with black
lace of q far greater age, almost
wrapped in the glow Of the Beaux-
Iieux diamonds, as in a cloud OF bright.
ness, preserving all the sweet and
stately grace of her FIRST youth, she
was still sight to make q man : heart
tre1nble. She seemed to beam and
sparkle as she walked, her every move
nlent shedding a stream OF light; and
Jean himself did not find it possible to-,
envy her in his heart that night the