Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1897-08-05
PARDONED.

Every one in the house, great hive of
working people in the Rue Delambre,
where Tony Robec had occupied room
for two quarters-believed him a widower
and recent one, since his little boy, with
whom he lived alone-this little boy as
well cared for as by a mothsr-was hardly
6 years old. Still neither father nor son
wore Grape on their hats or sleeves. Early
each morning Tony Robec, who worked
as composition in a printing office in the
Latin Quarter, went off with little Adrian
still drowsy and sleepy on his shoulder
and left him at school in the neighbour
hood. He called for him when his day g
work was over, and holding the little man
by the hand visited the butcher and the
baker and carrying home in the child's
basket the supplies for their humble din
ner they were invisible till the next day.
The gossips, with their compassionate
hearts, pitied the poor father--who was
not more than 40 and still a handsome
man with his black beard streaked with
silver, and eyes like lions in repose-
and they whispered behind his back:
"That man should marry again-such a
good fellow, never tipsy. He could easily
find some good girl who would take care
of him and his baby. Have you noticed
how carefully the little man is attended to?
Not rent Or a spot. One can see at
once that he is an orderly man, and he
earns 10 francs a day" They wished to
make his acquaintance. Ordinarily this
is not a difficult matter in these crowded
houses, where the doors are often open.
But Tony had a reserved air, polite way
nf fIo ,+oip tl,nt.
rather intimidated them.
Every Sunday father and son, as neat
as two sous, went out for a. walk They
could be seen in the museums, in the JAR
din DIES Plantes. They We're seen also in n
little cafe at dinner time, wheretTony per-
mitted himself the. only debauch of the
week and drank glass of absinth slowly
in little Sips while Adrian, seated beside
him on the leather bench, looked at the il
Illustrated papers. "No, ladies'" said the
concierge, who was sentimental, "that
widower will never marry again.
"We met him the other Sunday in one Of
the paths of the cemetery at Mont Par
nasse. No doubt his wife is buried there.
TWAS sad to see him with his little orphan
beside him. He must have adored his wife.
They are rarely as constant as that He is
inconsolable" Alas, yes Tony Robec
had adored his wife, and could not be con-
soled for her loss, but he was not widow
er. His life had been Il very simple and
q very sad one
He had been a workman of only ordi-
nary ability and because he had begun
rather late in life to make more than
bare living he had not thought of marriage
till he was about 30. He should have
chosen sensible girl who, like himself,
had experienced the miseries of life. But
love is not reasonable, and Tony lost his
heart to the pretty, vain little flower maker
OF 10. still innocent, no doubt but very
frivolous, and who thought only Of dress
and could attire herself like princess in
four rags.
He had saved little toward the modest
menage, and they had bureau with long
mirror-bought at the Faubourg St. An
tome for "a francs-where the wife could
see herself from head to feet. He married
his Clementine and at first all was delight
full. How they loved each other They had
two rooms on the fifth floor in the boule-
ward, with a balcony and view of all
Paris. Every evening on leaving his shop
on the left branch, Tony Robec, whose
overcoat covered his working clothes and
gave him quite the air of gentleman,
would wait at the corner of the bridge for
his little wife, who was coming back from
her shop in the Rue St. Honore.
Walking close together. arm in arm,
they soon reached their distant lodging
and prepared gayly their humble supper.
But the Sundays! They were simply OK
quisite. They were SO happy at home they
never went out Oh, the dainty summer
breakfasts, with windows open, through
which they saw the city spread below and
the blue sky above. While he slipped his
coffee and smoked his cigarettes, Clemen-
tine watered the flower boxes in the bal
cony. She was too sweet-he must surprise
her with kiss ON her white neck.
Then came their little Felix, who must
be sent to Margency to nurse, and who
died in year. They were soon consoled
by the birth of Adrian, and the mother
must nurse him. She left the shop, taking
home her work. She earned much less,
but she dressed herself like IA lady and
went to the Luxembourg, pushing her
baby before in q wicker carriage
And Tony had to work day and night
to keep the pot boiling, and even then
things went badly. They got in debt. The
child grew, was weaned and sent to the
day nursery, and the mother, often idle,
always a coquette, began to have danger
GUS adventures. Gin you not see the whole
tragedy The poor man, worn with toll,
aged before his time, and this frivolous
20-year-old with the pretty Greuze headf
One evening, coming home with his boy,
whom he had called for at the nursery on
his way, Tony Robec found letter on his
mantelpiece, and when he opened it Glenn
entines wedding ring fell out. In the
letter the wicked girl babe him and their
boy farewell and begged them to forgive
her.
Oh. romantic jury, who thirst for blood,
and who always acquit the injured hus-
band who kills his wife and her lover, you
will find poor Tony very ridiculous and
even little culpable, for he had more sor-
row than anger in his heart He wept Bit
terly, and when Adrian said to him:
"Where is mammal Will she come back
soonP'' he embraced the child tenderly
and answered, II do not know" CleInen.
tine fed In early May. Oh, how hateful
| Is the odor Of lilacs sometimesl