Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1895-01-19

was but one course for him. And his i'm
patience getting the better of caution, of
any thought of second nuptials with prince
ly houses and great dots. he made pro-
posalS to the astounded and well-pleased
baron for his daughters hand and an inn
mediate marriage.
1t was not to be thought that the Baron
Rene VauX, even at the prospect of his
own Increased loneliness, should hesitate
before the offer Of such brilliant future
for his only child: and he straightway told
matter was arranged. There was no dis
inclination on his daughters part; and
surely no prettier bridal procession than
hers ever wound up the mountain to the
chapel. she seated on her gray donkey
around whose neck Olympic had hung a
wreath of roseS-the chances Of lunching
presently on which he was calculating with
his long ears. M. Etienne leading him and
walking by her side, hei father and the
duke following on foot and Ambrose and
Olympic bringing up the rear. AS they
all stood before the altar, 1t was with an
air of eonfidins Innocence that she turned
to M. Etienne. But her father, leaning on
his staff just behind, stretched forward
his long. gaunt hand ard took hers and
placed it in the hand of the duke. where 1t
seemed to that gentleman like melting
snowflake. She had thought, until that
moment, that it was NJ. Etienne who was
the duke. An accident of introduction, the
fact of her ignorance of correct phrases
and her habit of using none, and perhaps
some natural bias as WELL were responsible
for the mistake.
But what did 1t sigrify to a welbred
and dutiful young girl? Obedent to ira
dition and discipline, she quietly accepted
the duke for her husband. She had no
other choice. indeed; and the duke re-
turning to Paris, took the duchess with
him
And when she had accustomed herself
to her fate. beginning with being charmed
by the delights OF the life her husband
gave her, and by the prodigalty that con-
trasted with tie simplicity of her poor
home, she ended by sincere affection for
the knightly gentleman and held the house
of SaraZines Beauxlieux as something
greater than the house OF France itself.
And when her son was born she seemed
to forget she had any share In him her
self, so proud ard glad was she over this
concentration and completion, this crystal
lization in one of all the glories of the
house of Sarazines BeauXlieuX. Only when
she saw how black was his hair. how dark
his splendid baby loneliness. she had an
aching self-remembrance that half the
blood in the little prnceling was her own,
and that somewhere in her own line was
peasant strain to which she owed her
beauty. For years she watched the
child lest the strain should anywhere ap-
pear, and half the teaching that she gave
him was conc arning the greatness Of his
ancestry, the mightiness Of his inherl-
lance of renown. the grandeur 1t had given
him and the duty he owed 1T in turn
So absorbed was she in the magnitude
and virtue of her husbands house. that
even the downfall of the king gave the
young duchess but little concern, since in
her estimation there could be no downfall
for the Dues des Beauxieux; and even
when. after the many agitations, the new