The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1899-12-16
: The Lace Of the Empress
NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS.


~ songs, it was about ten years ago
that Marquis de ST. Pol sat by his open
window mending his coat.
Far down below in the street hand
organ was grinding out "McGinty,"
which classic was then in its prime.
The sound of children's voices singing
and a husky shutting of feet indicated
an impromptu ball on the pavement,
and the marquis leaned out to look.
'They dance, my angel" he an
nounced as he seated himself again.
at is gay, the youth"
The marquise, who sat propped up
in big chair, smiled family, but did
not open her eyes.
"Art thou very tired, my dearest?"
asked the old man, anxiously, pulling
the coarse thread with jerk through
the cloth.
ut is. the spring air, Anatole."
The marquis looked at her with tear
prismed eyes. ut is the hunger" he
thought.
After a pause the marquise asked:
~Hast thou no lessons to-day, Anatole?"
"Only one. This great heat is too
much for rich people, dear" He spoke
with quite unconscious irony. Il must
go now. Do you think you could eat
nice little ragout when come home? ?"
She hesitated. "If-if 1 could only
have a little sweetbread timbale," she
said, longingly. "But yes, my friend, a
ragout will be charming"
He kissed her good-by with a trem-
bling mouth, and, carefully drawing on
his old gloves, went out.
s'Une petite timbale de riz-de-veau,"
he muttered. stepping carefully over
! baby who had gone to sleep on the
stairs Mon dieu, mon dieu!" 1t was
very warm, the bricks steaming in the
sun after a shower.
The organ man had gone on, leaving
an excited little group of children be-
hind him.
Hello, Mr.. de Poll, cried one of them,
alittlegirl, carrying anextremely fat ba-
by. Mother was took up this morning,
so I've gotter take care of all of 'em.
But I'll go in to see Mrs. de Poll jes' the
same. They took her of in the Black
M'riar. 1t took four men to hold her,"
finished the child, proudly.
When the marquis reached home that
afternoon strange sight met his eyes.
The marquise sat as usual in her big
chair, but her shabby, dark gown was
almost entirely hidden by delicate
film of beautiful old lace. "Sapristi!"
calculated the old man.
His wife laughed. II showed it to SUI
xette, but she did not even know who
Napoleon was" she said.
A pretty color was in her faded cheeks
as she looked up at him.
He sat down heavily. ''Itis very beau
tiful; shall put it away?"
ssNon, cheri. Leave it a little longer,
and let us forget that we are poor"
The marquis WINGED. How could he
tell her that his last pupil found the hot
spring weather too enervating for more
lessons?
With sigh he undid a parcel he had
brought with him, and displayed a lit
tie tin in which was the promised
ragout.
But the marquise could not eat it 1t
was greasy, and tasted like cat, she said,
trying to laugh.
.'Now, dear, if you will put the lace
away, l will not put it on again; ii
makes me homesick. Oh, Anatolet
Paris! The Bots, to-day! five were in
a carriage, driving down the Champs
Elysees.
"And see the lights budding out in
the understanding dusk! And then,
dear, we'd go to restaurant and have
timbale de riz de veau, and saiade,
and little Chablis, Oh, Anatole, it is
dreadful to be old, mon ami"
She put her head down on his shout
der and they both cried.
Presently the marquis rose and pat
the lace tenderly away in the little
trunk. among the old camphor balls
Hbich had almost lost their odor. Even