The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1899-01-10

Babette looked up into the brown eyes
bent upon her. She noticed the pointed
beard and curly hair, and a light came into
her eyes. ~.
.Why," she said, cts the locket mani"
The locket man smiled family.
"Who's the locket man?' he said.
"Why, it's you-it's Richord, you know,
in the locket-in mademoiselle's locket.
You're the little boy she used to tell me and
Marie bout. We're 'dopted, me an Marie"
"What are you begging this way for!
Mademoiselle must earn good deal OF
money singing" he said, harshly.
Babette looked up into his face.
30! but she sews vests now, an we don't
have nice things any more, an she cries lots
of nights. She lost her voice, you know"
'Lost her -Cecilia?"
Babette nodded YEARLY.
can she paid out all her money, an
they couldn't make her well again, an we
come to Poverty Flats, an there's doctor
now who'll cure her, only all her money 3
gone-an' I'm SO hungry"
Come" he said; "take me home with
you'll"
eyes," she said, confidently. "it'll be all
right now"
Mile. Cecilia, sewing by the little window
that looked out over blackened roofs and
tall chimneys, cried little to herself that
afternoon. She wondered what was going
to become of her and Babette.
If she only hadn't Babette! But she had
taken the waif in days of prosperity; the
little one was such loyal soul, and be-
| sides she was French and the poorhouse
was lonely place for the orphan. Perhaps
it would be better if she had let the child
go. There one was sure of something to
cat and a place to sleep, at least, and she
was sure of nothing any more.
She thought of the dear old days when
her father was alive, teaching French in the
country academy-when Richard Heming-
way lived just across the garden. What
good times they had together-until her
father died. Everything was different after
that. She had the inherited Legrand pride
and independence. She would be no mans
portionless bride.
She did not tell Richard that-she knew
he would not listen. She had slipped quiet
ly away to the city with her little stock OF
money, and friend of her fathers had
helped her on to success. In the height Of
her prosperity, after she had taken Babette
she read of Richards departure to west
ern state in the interest of mining con
Germ, and for awhile her heart had failed
her What if he should never come back
or something should happen that he woulo
never know it was for him she was singing
: and working-for him, and not for fame?
Then she lost her voice, and she knew i
1 was the end of all her dreams. She Tough
bravely, but little by little her money driftee
away and her voice did not come back
The door opened and some one steppet
into the room.
She held her work nearer the window
Daylight was giving place to dusk. Shad
ows lurked in the lew-ceiled corners Wher
could Babette be?
'I'm glad you've come back, cherie," salt
mademoiselle, not looking up.
Cecilia, dear heart, don't send M
away!"
"Dick, o Dicls!"
Then she forgot her lost voice, her pov
erty, her independence, and went into hi
arms like child. And from the threshol,
she heard Babette saying in her happy, tire,
voice:
J 'It's the 1ocket man'-it's Richard Ar
you glad, mademoiselle? "-Baltimore Hel
. aid.