The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1895-04-03

aware that he has in view for me a
hideouS old husband, his everlasting
Cazsa-or, in case he should fail that
idiotic Count Palleri, whom l have
never seen. l am rich, fortunately, by
Inheritance from my mother. / give
you my wealth, my heart, my life, all
that have, if you will love me forever.
We will 60 to France and there a
cottage will be better to us than a
palace. Greuze will become a Titan
and will be his wife. / shall be there
to smooth his brow and to love him; ]
shall dwell in his heart. But why do
you look so sad? Do you not love me
trulyp"
Greuze allowed himself to be led; he
forgot the claims of nobility; with
Letitia he built the most charming g
castles in Spain; but he soon came to
himself again.
"Alas!" said he. why am I not a
grand duke?"
"What a child you are!" said Letitia.
what are those sounding titles worthP
What do you want of them?"
And as she spoke the lovely Italian
leaned toward her lover like gracious
fairy, took his blonde head between her
delicate hands, and gave him on the
forehead a kiss so sweet that it would
have awakened Alain Charter.
"There." said She with a charmin o
smile, "is not that as good as any titleP5'
But they were obliged to part.
Greuze went away happy, deeply
charmed, promising to come again the
next day.
/ Tomorrow" said Let.tia, you shall
not go away alone"
Once out of the place, however, the
painter felt that the Eden lay behind
him. Farewell, enchantment! Greuze
not give himself ~ the poetry of his ad-
venture.
No." said he, mo; 1 will not bring
desolation to the house of this noble
duke of Orr. Letitia is blind; I must
see for her." He gave up all his illu-
sions and his hopes; his love alone re-
manned.
The next day when he came to
his victory had cost him many tears.
"Ah! Letitia," said he, 81 am sad be-
cause love you too well, because l g We
you up, my holiest and puriest joy.
Yesterday was man. listened only
to my heart. To-day"
"Are you serious?" cried Letitia, a.
! most in anger. Then you do not love
! me. You have broken my heart. Go!
let me suffer alone. l will never SET
you again"
And she waved him to the door
Again Greuze had not the strength tc
withstand so much love. He threw him
self at her feet and swore to obey hel
like slave.
"Then," she said resolutely. "let III
leave at once. My father is with Coun
| Palleri; when ne returns we shall be fa1
| away. A carriage is at the door; have
provided for everything; I was no
afraid, like YOU"
She drew Greuze to the door of tht
| chamber and cast last look behind her
She suddenly grew pale aid Greuze fel
her tremble.
"What is it. Letitia?" he cried, seizins
her hands.
Look" she replied, growing still
| paler. Look"
She was gazing wildly at her father
| picture. 1t was one of Greuze's por
| traits, and, like all his head, it had 81
| tender and sweet an expression tina
| ones heart was touched at sight of it
The duke seemed to repl oach hi
daughter sadly for leaving him thus. i
her heart, which throbbed violently, he
father contented with her love. Greuz
dared not speak.
a cannot CO." said she; support m
and lead me back"
u, too, have no strength" he sadl
replied. "One last kiss. Letitia, befor
your fathers eyes-and farewell fol
ever"
She began to weep. held out bot
hands to Greuze and said in a broke
voice:
Il thank you; farewell"
Five weeks later the duke of Or
again entered the artists studio.
my dear Greuze," said he, an
daughter greatly desires you to pair
her portrait Can you come tomol
row?"
The next day at the palace of Orr tn
painter found Count Palleri carelessl
embracing Letitia, who blushed at th
sight of Greuze.
MY daughter is married" said tt
duke. Had forgotten to tell you I
itp"
The painter bowed to hide his breal
ing heart
He found courage to paint the po
trait. Twice he was alone with tt
young bride. The first time she gay
him lock of her hair, the second OF
last kiss with tear. When the hea
was finished Greuze carried the portra
to his studio to give, as he said, a la
touch to the accessories. but the ne,
day he left Rome like thief. carryiu
with him that treasure of art and
love. - From the French of Arse1
.HOnSsane.