Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1895-01-26

candle Pickering under it gave it seeming
life. She flung herself down before 1T as
if it were an altar How, how. how could
1 doubt your she cried. And, oh. how
can 1 help it!' she said. presently. She
knelt at her prie-dieu for hours. but she
felt that help forsooll her. She took the
candlestick and went into her sons rooms
bare StudiOus rooms, without an ornament
or luxury, only one picture on the walls. a
face crowned with thorns. HE gave linn
self for the love of man." Beauxlieux once
had said. And can do less?'
AS she went back the enormity OF her
own behavior overwhelmed her. But d.
rectly afterward she saw her handkerchief.
fallen on the f1OOr-one of several he had
sent her-knowing she loved fine. sheer
things, and had used coarse ones so long.
She Snatched it and tore it with her teeth;
then, as she walked the floor, she paused
at the great armoire where Olympic had
put away the things of his childhood. She
Enclosed 1t and lifted the little frOck. She
recalled him in it, running to meet her. his
hair flying. his arms extended. his sweet
face overfowing with smiles. He had not
forgotten how to smile then. There was
the little cap, too her own fingers had
wrought it for him before he was born. and
what hopes and what prayers she had
wrought into 1t! Here was a scarf he had
worn at his first communion: here We're the
curls, the silken curls Olympic had shorn
from his dear head She kissed them pas
sionately; she wet them with her crying,
mother grieves so over the memorials OF
the dead! She had no longer a child.
1t was the rext day that BeauXlieux came
down from town to the chateau The OUCH
ess did not go to meet him as usual. She
sent for him instead to come to her. She
was standing at her dressing table, strewn
with the empty jewel cases, white as ala
baster, her long black gown sweeping
round her, her eyes like those of fate.
Startled by her appearance. he hastensd
toward her with an exclamation. But she
threw out her arms in an interpoSing ges-
fI1ra And then she waVored she stood:
and with a stride he was beside her, and,
his arm about her. he had led her to
seat, and throwing himself on his knees be-
fore her, he drew her face over to his.
What is it, my mother?" he murmured.
what ails thee? Art thou i'll? Art thou
suffering? Lean on me. kiss me. dear,
sweet mother"
She withdrew from his clasp and pushed
him off a little. her hand fiat on his chest.
"Oh," she cried, transfixing him with her
great despairing eyes. Oh! how could
you, how could you do it?'
CHAPTER VI
For a moment Beauxlieux looked be-
wildered He glanced round the room,
where the light of the dreary autumn day
came in through the faded daffodil draper
les, as If the sun were still shining without.
II do not understand you" he said.
What does this mean. my mother? What
disaster what MISFORTUNE
What disaster"' she cried, sharply.
"And you ask! You! Is there worse dis
aster than when a mother finds her Son
Oh, 1 cannot say itv' tearing open the lace
at her throat. when she discovers-and
Beauxlieux-"
"Ah!' he exclaimed. ut Is that, then.
My faith, 1 had almost forgotten! I never
dreamed it was going to affect you so.
mother"
mot your mother!' she almost shrieked.
''Never the mother of-a-thief!'
WHAT he cried, instantly upon his
feet. Does any one-even my mother"
and then with a look at her his old gentle