Shoshone journal. [volume] (Shoshone, Idaho) 1884-1931, 1897-01-29
A VERY GOOD REASON

rem, his maiden sister, Martynia en-
gagged beautiful little Frenchwoman tC
the squire's great disgust, as he detestec
the French unspeakably.
"What possible fault can you fine
with herr" pleaded Miss Martynia after
Miss St. Auguste had been in the house
a month.
"She's French" was the squirrels re-
ponse.
Nor was Jocelyne St. Auguste slow
to perceive the squirrels bent.
"He does not like me, and why?" she
asked Miss Martynia.
any DEAR" said the maiden lady,
"there's no accounting for mans
freaks. Pm only glad Pm not married
to one"
But one night just as the stars were
beginning to peep out through the pur-
pie glow above the syringa hedges, the
squire came in much perturbed in
spirit.
"Who is that fellow I saw walking
with Miss St. Auguste out in the shrub.
berries? didn't know she had any ac-
quaintance in the village"
"Oh," said Miss Martynia, who was
knitting in the twilight, "that's M. Du-
mont, an old Partisan friend-or a young
one rather-who happened to be pass
ing through the village and discovered
by the merest accident that Jocelyne
was at Trenholme Parkw
"He's humbug," said the squire dis
contentedly.
"Why3" demanded his sister.
"He twists his mustache when he
talks, and-and"-
"And what?"
"And l don't believe in these old
young friends. l hope he isn't going to
remain long in Trenholme village"
The squirrels hopes were not destined to
be crowned with success. M. CASTOR
DumoEt was merely travelling, as he
said, pour la plaisir. He was in no
haste. Trenholme was a lovely spot,
and Miss St. Auguste, a very beautiful
girl. So M. Dumont staid on.
I'M tell you what George" said Miss
Martynia one evening, with a nod of in
effable wisdom, "that M. Dumont is in
love with Jocelyne."
Nonsense" shouted the squire.
"But he is, though" insisted Miss
Martynia. 81 don't know where your
eyes are not to have seen it before. Well,
well, suppose we shall have to look
out for another governess one of these
days"
Mr.. TrenhoIme made no answer, but
he sat long and quietly by the window
the fiery eye of his cigar, glowing
in the darkness.
"She would be fool to marry him."
he said sullenly and abruptly.
"Why fool?" questioned his sister.
Gall the world knows what a French
husband is" tartly responded Mr.. Tren-
holme.
al suppose they are as good as French
wives" hazarded Miss Martynia.
The squire got up and walked out of
the room.
"She must do as she likes, of course" |
he said to himself, shut can't bear to
think that her whole future being |
Dlighted by union with that swarthy
looking foreigner-no, I can't. She's
too pretty and graceful. Poor, little
lonely Jocelyne"
He started as Miss St. Augustine con-
ironted him in the shrubbery walk, her
white daess glimmering through the
iusk as an elf's silver draperies might
nave done.
"Miss St. Auguste Who would have
bought of meeting you here" ejacu-
ated the squire somewhat astounded.
~ hope I have not startled you, mon
ieur," said Jocelyne in low, tremulous
yoice.
mo; but my child, you have been
.rying."
"Please let me pass, Mr.. Trenholme,'
altered Jocelyne.
"But 1 shall not let you pass ar
wered the squire bluntly, "until you
ell me what the matter is. Has that
hat villain Dumont dared to annoy
our"
And Mr.. Trenholne's blood seemed
urning to fire within his viens at the
nere idea.
mo; nothing of the Sort" Jocelyne
aid family.
"Then what is itS"
"He has asked me to marry him, mon
Baking Powder