Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1895-08-09
CHAPTER V.

| him alone in her favorite room, clothed
in white with knot of tea-roses at her
| breast; she was full of gladness; she
looked at herself in the many mirrors
and saw that she was as fair as the fair
June day.
Glow beautiful our lives will bel"
she thought. "Poor little dead child!
It was his little hands joined ours.
Perhaps he is an q, gel Of God now. and
will be always witt, us!'
She heard the swish of oars at the
| the vIater-stairs below; she heard steps
! ascending those stairs; she heard the
voice of her head servant speaking. It
was he! She put her hand to her heart;
it bent so wildly that the leaves of the
roses fell; she crossed herself and muir
INJURED prayer; such happiness seemed
to merit gratitude.
Through the vista of the ante-cham-
' ers came the figure Of a man. But it
was not that of Andreis."
Damer came up to her with his calm,
| expressionless face, his intent eyes, his
hair of authority and of Indifference.
"You expected the Prince Andreis,"
| he said to her. 81 regret to tell you,
madame, that he is unable to keep his
| appointment with you. He has taken
! the disease of which that child on the
barge died this morning. He has what
the vulgar call diphtheria."
Andreis lay in the large salon where
they had dined together in the evening
after finding the opnal necklace. Damer
| had caused a bed to be taken into it and
placed in the center of the room, as af-
| fording more air from the four large
windows than was to be obtained from
the inner bedchamber adjoining. He
did not give the true name to the dis
ease in speaking to the people of the
hotel; he spoke merely of cold and fever
from plunge in the hot monday into
| foul canal water; on the local doctor,
whom he paid the compliment of call
| ing in, he enjoined the same reserve.
! 'The prince is very rich, he said, ''he
will pay for any loss which may be in
Cured, any renewal of furniture and Of
draperies."
From Andreis he did not conceal the
| truth.
| Indeed, Andreis himself said, in a
| hOarse, faint voice: 81 have the disease
which the child had. Cure me if you
can, for"
He did not add why life was more
| than ever beautiful to him, but thStears
rose into his eyes; the other understood
what remained unspoken.
When three in the afternoon sound
cd from the clocl1-tower on the south
side of the hotel he raised his head,
and, with q despairing gesture, said to
| Damer: ''She expects me. Go and ey-
plain to her; say am i'll. Tell her
would get up and keep my tryst if l
died at her feet, but fear-I fear-the
contagion-for her."
Lie where you are, and you will
probably be well in a few days." said
| Damer. Il will leave Stefanio with
you and take your message. l shall
soon return. Meanwhile your man
! knows what to do"
| Stefanio was the valet.
The eyes Of Andreis followed him
from the room with longing and an
| guish. He was not yet so i'll that the
| apathy of extreme illness dulled his de-
sires and stilled his regrets. Both
were intense as life still was intense
| in him. He would have risen and
| dragged himself to the Ca Laranigra;
but as he had said he feared the infec-
ton for her which would be in his
voice, in his touch, in his breath, in his
| mere presence.
| "She loves me, she loves me-" he
| thought, and he like a coward, like q
l1nave, must be untrue to the first
meeting she had promised him.
why is it," he thought, as the tears
welled up under his closed eyelids,
"that our better, kinder impulses al
| ways cost us SO much more heavily
| than all our egotisms and all our vices?"
If he had left the little child under
! meath the barge to drown, would it not
| have been better even for the child?
| The little thing had only suffered some
eighteen hours longer through his res
| cue.
"What did you tell her?" he asked,
| breathlessly, when Damer at last re-
| turned.
Il told her the truth" replied Da-
mer, rs he placed the thermometer I'M
der the sick mans armpit. "You have
worried and fretted; your fever has in
| creased"
What did she say? She is not angry
-offended?"
Who can be SO at the misfortune of
| disease? Of course she knows that you
| have incurred this misfortune through
your own folly"
Did she say SOP"
mo; am not aware that she said so.
But she no doubt thought it. She babe
me tell you not to agitate yourself"
! WAS that all?"
| "She added-for her sake" said Da-
;ner, with a cold, slight smile. lie was
| truthful in what he repeated; he
scorned vulgar methods of rnisrepre-
sentation and betrayal. The heavy
eyes of Andreis cleaned and lightened
with joy.
Thanks" he said softly, and his hot
hand pressed that Of his friend.
/ Il will write to her" he added. "You