Akron daily Democrat. [volume] (Akron, Ohio) 1892-1902, 1899-10-28
DAWN OF THE
AGE OF LOVE.
BY MICHAEL coRDAY

The celebrated painter Milate during
his last days looked with fondness to-
ward two youthful beings-his daughter
Jaime and his pupil, Marcel JacQuemin.
She was still but a young girl in all the
budding grace and fairness of her 10
summers. Marcel had attained his eight
| eenth year. an orphan, whom chance had
thrown in Milate's path, and the latter
had been instantly struck by the boys
talent and persuaded him to study art.
Janine and Marcel loved each other
| with youthful fervor and absolute ten
ierness. which was both ardent and de
| lightful but where desire did not enter.
| a project was thus awakened in the
fathers heart and so forcibly impressed
itself on his mind that it speedily became
a species of consolation for all the agony
| that he was compelled to endure. He
wished Marcel and Jauii!c to marry, he
| desired TO unite the child of his flesh 10
the one of his Intellect and thereby 10 be
| revivired in them. and he passionately
tongcd for the realization Of his desires.
Uc felt that his days were numbered.
| inasmuch as the crisis in his illness was
| fast approaching. the attacks were more
| frequent and of greater duration, and he
| trembled at the thought that he might
| not live tn execute his unique idea and
desire. Then his morbid condition came
! to his aid and suggested the following
stratagem: Marcel and Janine had at
| tanned the age when the law would per-
| NIT them to marry even if nature and
| reason had not yet sufficiently matured
them, and they could therefore be united
| By the sacred rites of the church, and
YET their positions could remain nnchang-
ed until the time when they all would
have considered it propitious for the un-
| ion had he not been menaced by this
frightful fear. The grim monster Of
death could then assail him, and he
should disappear with the certainty of
having left happiness behind him.
Milate accordingly revealed his plan to
| the three persons that he so tenderly
cherished. At first they revolted at the
thought of there being any necessity to
take sucb hasty step. But Nine. Mi
| late invariably bent to her husbands
will, aud the youthful couple were sway
ed equally by anxiety and delight. The
| double ceremony of church and state was
| therefore quietly performed, and the
| painter assisted, although in great agony.
| Then. as if he had strained his powers
and endurance to the utmost limit. he
died eight days after the date Of the un.
ion he had effected
After the first pangs of her sorrow had
| been allayed Nine. Milate was troubled
| as to how and when she should authorize
the young people to begin their new life.
What moment or day would be the
auspicious one?" she unused, and how
might she make it clear to them? Mar
| riage regulated and foresaw so much, but
this was an exceptional case, and she
keenly felt the responsibility of her posi-
ton.
She consulted those who had been her
husbands most trustworthy friends. hop
ing thus to come to a wise decision. But
some, austere in their Judgment, spoke Of
the young couple waiting still for the sue
ceeding ten years. Others consented to
reducing the period to seven, five or
three. as if it were question of military
service. Some who thought but of senti-
ment urged the speedy union. and they
cited Daphne and Chloe as examples.
There We're still more who affirmed that
all depended on their dispositions The
friends who had fondly dreamed of their
son marrying Jaime Milate were slyly
revengeful and said, Your daughter is
SO delicate" or at is running a great
risk" After these various consultations
the painters widow was more undecided
than before.
Then her thoughts reverted to Marcel,
and she reflected as TO confding her anx-
ieties to him. She could question him as
to his opinions on this serious subject. Ii
they were reasonable and worthy of ap-
probation, she could intrust the future to
him. She could enter into sort of COM
pact with him that be would undertake
to execute He could swear, and she
would thus be relieved of all surveillance
and concern. However, she was ever dis
MAYED over the abnormal character OF
the situation and fearful of openly
broaching the subject to her son-in-law.
Thus she waited, looking to and yet fear
full of what chance might offer and long
ing for some sudden inspiration that
would be advantageous to her children
and at the same time make all raillery
impossible.
Marcel and Janine meanwhile were su-
premely happy. The young painter used
the easel and brushes of his master and
worked in Janine's presence. while she
would occupy herself with some embroid-
cry. Their repasts and promenades were
always taken in each others society, with
Nine. Milate ever near at hand. discreet,
but vigilant. Then, when evening came
and at about II o'clock, Marcel would
regain the little room on an adjoining
street which he had occupied since his
marriage.
And thus their existence passed fraught
with infinite happiness and SO strong a
confidence in the future that words SEEM
ed useless, while Nine. Milate would ST.
uitely protrscted.
A year passed in this way, and then a
difference became apparent to the moth
er. difference which gave her an uncer-
tain tranquility. Jaime and Marcel were
verging into maturity. One day, when
returning to the studio after brief abb
senee. she surprised them in each others
arms. with their lips pressed closely to-
gether She then realized that the de-
nouenlent was near at hand. The uninter-
rupted surveillance fatigued her and.
moreover, now seemed out of place.
Should she simply close her eyes, she
mused, but in that case some dissimula-
ton would be necessary. She would have
to ignore the truth. and in that way her
misapprehension might be prolonged.
Then followed a time when she longed
that the young people might take the ini-
tiative themselves. Her unuttered pray
er was hearkened 70, for on a winters
night, when snowstorm was raging fu-
riously without, Jaime took compassion
upon poor Marcel, who was Iamentably
preparing to depart. She opened the
SASH then quickly closed il and MUIR |