The St. Johns herald., 1896-03-14

and unhappy, WnOso u4o Aau Do0n q sdO romance, without hope of happy de- nouement
 Once only I became suspicious, or, rather, uneasy. One Sunday evening she did not return. I was in,despair What should do? Go to St Germain? !? could not do that without compromis- ing her. However, after fearful night, I had just st.decided to go there when she arrived, pale and troubled. Her sister was i'll; she had remained to care for her. I 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 ill 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 was crazed with grief. Then I thought that would make her last hours happy. Her family, which she loved so much, of which she was so proud, would bring to her bed side. Without saying anything to her, I wrote first to her sister at St. Ger main and went myself to the grand rabbi. her uncle. When I 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 astonishment. l went on:
 "Your niece is dyingP'
 "My niecel I have no niecel You are mistaken. "
 ''I beg of you, sir, to forget that fool ish quarrel speak of Mime. Deloche, the wife of Captain"-
 "I do not know Mime. Deloche. You are mistaken, my child, assure you. '" And kindly he pushed me toward the door, taking me for lunatic or fool.
 Imay have looked so, indeed. What I had heard was so terrible, so unex- pected. She had lied, then. But why! Suddenly an idea struck me. l would 20 to the address of one of her pupils, of whom she was always talking, the daughter of we'll known banker.
 "Mme. Deloche," began to the serv- ant.
 "She does net live here. :"
 "Yes; I know that She is the lady who gives piano lessons to the young ladies "
 "There are no young ladies in the house-not even piano. do not know what you mean," and she closed the door in my face.
 IWent no farther. I was sure of re. ceiving the same answer everywhere. Returning to our poor little home, let, ter was handed me, postmarked St. Germain. opened it, knowing already what its contents were. The general did not know lime. Deloche. He had, more over, neither wife nor child.
 This was the last blow. So for five years every word she had uttered had been lie. A thousand jealous thoughts seized me, and foolishly, not knowing what I did, ran to the room where she lay dying. All the questions which tor mented me poured from my lips in g torrent of words. "What did you go tc St. Germain every Sunday for? Al whose house have you passed your days Where did you stay that night? Come answer me!'' And I caught hold of her searching through her eyes into the depths of her soul. But she remained mute-passive.
 was trembling with rage. "Yor never gave lessons! I 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, anc that was all. Ishould have spared her I should have allowed her to die II peace. But I loved her too much Jealously was stronger than pity.
 "You have deceived me for fiv' years," went n. "You have lied t. me every day, every hour. You knov all my life, and I know absolutel. nothing of yours. Nothing-not ever your namel Because it is not yours this name that you bear. Oh, liar liarv'
 She was dying, and I not to knoy what name to call herl "Come, now who are you? Where did you com' from? Why did you come into my life Speak, Tell me somethingP Instead of replying she turned he face to the wall, as if she feared tha l her last look would give up her secret.
 And thus she died-died withou divulging her secret, liar to the end , Translated For Argonaut From tn French of Alphonse Daudet.