Santa Fe new Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1898-1951, 1899-11-01

"Now yous NJ. Seranes, don't you think
this GOODNESS delicious after the fierce suns
of the tropics?"
Indeed, I do, mademoiselle deli
cious!'
As she took her arm from her mothers
waist and went to kiss her father Seranes
was startled to find himself jealous of this
innocent caress, which the big man ac-
cepted with Indifference. And yet how
full of natural fondness and coaxing grace
was this simple action in the peaceful,
shady scene!
Seranes could now look unmoved at
Mime. Dexpers; he could talk to her calm
ly, answer her nationally. A friend, yes,
an old friend, and nothing more, that was
what she was and must thenceforth al
ways be to him.
But Theresel He was like a man blind
ed by the sun, who sees fire through his
eyelids, gold, black and red. as in an in
toxication of light.
Was she so much like her mother as he
had thought at f1rstp He now observed
slight differences. Her skin was fairer
than Mime. Dexper's had ever been, her
eyes were lighter, and she was taller, and,
strange to say, Seranes sought out these
little d~issimilarities and noted them with
pleasure.
Reader of tongue, gayer and ever bub'
bling with light laughter-Charlotte had
been won't to smile-Therese had higher
spirits, wal more adventurous, less fetter-
ed by commonplace habits and convention
alities. Seranes found proof of this in the
interest with which she questioned him
about Tonquin.
"She is a perfect GIRL" thought he,
land a perfect woman" And he failed
to discern that his ideal, formerly embed
led in Mime. Dexpers, was shifting its cen
ter. The powerful attraction of the daugh-
ter was alternating him a little from the
mother.
Too thoroughly a woman not to see the
influence Therese gained over Seranes and
at the same time not to feel a pang in her
secret soul, she had the dignity that rises
superior to every personal feeling and the
tenderness that could think only of the
pleasure for her daughter Of conversing
Familiarity and confidingly to her friend.
She knew that Therese, with her indie
pendent spirit, would have nothing to say
to a commonplace sutton and would un
mask the fortune hunters who wanted her
money. The idea that her daughter might
fail to find a husband worthy of her some
times disturbed her mind. As for M. Dex-
pers, he could not at all understand these
subtleties and was annoyed with his
daughter for being really too hard to
please.
But he and Roger had finished their
cigars and had walked long enough TO,
digestion. Business now took them to
Saumur and would detain them till din
ner time.
Then a really intimate hour began for
Seranes and the two women. They seated
themselves in the veranda. In front Of
them bushes Of china roses hung in YER
dant garlands over the parapet of the ter
race. The road was invisible, and beyond
it they could only sac the banks of the
Loire.
Nine. Dexpers had brought out some
work. She was embroidering large flow
ers and birds in silk in a frame. An Eng
lish novel lay under Therese's hand. She
mechanically opened it. Seranes looked al
the title, "The Story of an African Farm, ;
by Olive Schreiner.
He, like her, could read English, and hi
drew closer, their heads bent over the vol
ume, and without any words spoken by {
mutual impulse of confidence they read OF
together.
But it was by IN effort that they took IL
the meaning Of the words. Their minds
like two streams that meet in n river
carried them onward.
Therese was conscious Of a disturbance
which no man had ever produced in her
And it was SO sudden, so startling, tina
she wondered whether she was not dream
ing. Mysterious power of sympathy Hal
the child, who had been so fond of her sol
emn friend, grown up without suspectinl
that, when she should see the absent on
again, she would be attracted to him witt
the same sentiment as when ten years ago
on the day when he left, she had claspe'
his hand and looked mournfully down tn
road on which he was to set out and disap
pearl He had come, and she felt as thougl
she had always expected him.
And Seranes? He sat fascinated. Fat
sometimes takes these b~ewildering turns
4, Was it possible he had wandered SO ia
only to find on his return on the yer
threshold of the house that opened to wei
come him the most unhoped for, improt
able happiness? Was he not losing hi
wits?
Then Nine. Dexpers gazed at them.
She gazed at them with an open, pene
trating look, one of those looks whic
epitomize the intensity Of one and Of man
lives, an indescribable look of meditation
in which there was pain-the pain of re
Numbering, and fears and hopes, too, 70
the future, a mystery Of pride, Of insight
that took in the whole truth, a look a
brave as her life had been, as pure as he
conscience.
And that look fell on them with sue
power as made Seranes and Therese rails
their heads at the same moment.
Mammal cried the girl, and she fe
at her mothers knees, threw her arm
round her, chung to her with overaowin
tenderness.
And yet Mime. Dexpers had not Spoken
And Therese said no more. And Serane
said nothing at all.
But all three felt the tears rise to thel
eyes, and they smiled, their hearts grippe
by keen but delicious happiness.
And when Seranes and Therese vel
tured to look at each other they wei
grave, s though they saw against som
neal sky the gracious angel Of betrothal.-
Illustrated Figaro.
The Sierra Grouse.
/ have seen young broods Of grouse ruI
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