The Madison daily leader. [volume] (Madison, S.D.) 1890-current, 1895-11-09

III oio III ClllIR
lne about the families t which her pu-
pills belonged, she gave a quantity Of
intimate details and told of imaginary
i%ntriguos. She saw always the romance
around her and seemed to live in dra-
matte combinations. These dreams trou-
bled my happiness. |, who wished to
fly far from the rest Of the world to live
alone with her, often found her occupied
with Indifferent things. But l could
pardon these dreams in q woman young
and unhappy, whose life had been a sad
romance, without hope Of a happy de-
nouement.
Once only l became suspicious, or,
rather, uneasy. One Sunday evening
she did not return. l was in despair.
What should l do? Go to st. German?
l could not do hat without compromis-
ing her. However,, after a fearful night,
l had just decided to 60 there when
she arrived, pale and troubled. Her
sister was i'll; she had remained to care
for her. l believed what she told me,
not suspecting the flow of words which
met the least questioning. Two or
three times, in the same week, she re-
turned to spend the night; finally, the
sister having recovered, she again took
up her regular and tranquil life.
Unhappily, some time afterward, it
was her turn to fall i'll. One day she
came home from giving lessons, trem-
bling, weak, feverish. Inflammation
Of the lungs declared itself, became
more serious, and soon-the doctor told
me-irremediable. I was crazcd with
grief. Then 1 thought that I would
make her last hours happy. Her family,
which she loved so much, of which she
was SO proud, I would bring to her bed
side. Without saying anything to her,
l wr@te first to her sister at st. Ger.
main and went myself to the grand
rabbi, her uncle. When 1 arrived at
his house, I was ushered into an ante,
chamber, and soon the grand rabbi came
to receive me.
There are moments, SIR | began,
"when hatred ought to be forgotten"
He looked at me in establishment. ]
went on:
"Your niece is dying!"
my niece! have no niece! You
are Mistaken
Il beg of you, sir, tofOrget that fool
ish quarrel. Ispeak Of Nine. Deloche,
the wife Of Captain
Il do not know Nine. Deloche. Yor
are mistaken, my child, l assure you.
And kindly he pushed me toward the
door, taking me for a lunatic or a fool
may have looked SO, indeed. What
l had heard was SO terrible, SO unex
pected. She had lied, then. But why
Suddenly an idea struck inc. l would
60 to the address of one of her pupils
Of whom she was always talking, the
daughter of a we'll known banker.
"Mme. Deloche," 1 began to the serv
ant.
"She does not live here"
Eyes; l know that. She is the lad,
who gives piano lessons to the youn.
ladies'"
"There are no young ladies in thu
house-not eve a piano. I do not know
what you mean,' and she closed thu
door in my face.
i WELT III ldIlGlST. i w DIS SuIS VI II
ceiving the same answer everywhere
Returning to our poor little home, a let
ter was handed me, postmarked st
German. I opened it, knowing alread,
what its contents were. The general die
not know Nine. Deloche. He had, more
over, neither wife nor child.
This was the last blow. So for five
years every word she had uttered hat
been a lie. A thousand jealous thought
seized me, and fOolishly, not KNOWN!
what l did, l ran to the room where sh
lay dying. All the questions which tor
mented me poured from my lips in
torrent of words. "What did you go t.
st. Germain every Sunday for? A
whose house have you passed your days
Where did you stay that night? Come
answer me- And l caught hold of her
searching through her eyes into tn
depths Of her soul. But she RENAME,
mute-paSslve.
l was trembling with rage. "To1
never gave lessons! | have been every
where. No one knows you. Come
where did you get the money, thoS
laces, those jewels?'
She gave me one long, sad look, an'
that WAS all. Ishould have spared her
l should have allowed her to die il
peace. But l loved her too much
jealousy was stronger than pity.
"You have deceived me for fv
years" l went on. "You have lied t
me every day, every hour. You kno,
all my life. and l know absOlutel
nothing of yours. N~othing-not eve
your name! Because it is not yours
this name that you bear. Oh, lial
liar
She was dying, and I not to kno'
what name to call her! Come, now
who are you? Where did you com
from? Why did you come into my life
Speak! Tell me something!
Instead Of replying che turned he
face to the wall, as if she feared tn;
her last look would give up her secret.
And thus she died-died witho.
divulging her secret. a liar to the enc
TRANSLATED For Argonaut From II
French Of Alphonse Daudet.