The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1900-01-27
THE LAST ACT

EIFILLE BEAUTENCOURT. danced
on the table before so of her dearest
friends, and they drank to her with
great acclaim.
'But you haven't let us in the secret
yet, -Eifille," said they. What does
this fafewell mean? Is there TO be a
succession of them? Or are you, by
possibility, about TO be married? You,
, who have been so obdurate? You who
have refused five millions in your time,
speaking by the aggregate? Come,
Fif,le, it is impos sib.e for woman to
retire when size is making more money
with her feet than the cleverest make
with their heads Maybe you have de-
yeloped n conscience-eh? Is it that
you are about To enter convent? Are
you going to be penitentiai-in black
tights? Tut. Fifille. il is childish of
you TO be saying farewell without Civ
ing any reason for IT," So went the
composite speech of many companions.
Fifil!e smiled gravely. Then she took
her tiny lace handkerchief. and mois-
tening a bit of it. rubbed at the rouge
on her cheek. She held up the incar-
nadined muslin to the contemplation of
her guests.
II shall never put any paint on my
face again as long as | live" said she.
''But the reason for it you would hard
~ understand. 1t is rot remorse, for
j have nothing of which 10 repent, save
venal sins, of course. And those | have
confessed 1t is not love, for let that
go by long time ago. 1t is not age.
for. as you see, youth has not yet for
saken me-"
The diaphanous snowy petticoats
fiuttered like n humming birds wing,
and about the svelte body drifted scarf
light and hayward as morning cloud.
II, who am not suspected of phlos-
ophy, leave the life | know for phiio-
sophie reasons. l wish to observe, for
myself how real people liye-not mimic
people like ourselves. None of you has
ever discovered it. but as n matter of
fact ! am not stupid. do not propose
TO remain here till you pity me. ! am
not going TO hear any of you saying:
'Poor old Fifile.' when | get too stiff
in the joints for this"
She poised like butterfly on n flower,
and il seemed as if she were about to
disappear through the befowered CELL
ing of the room.
"Brava Brava Exquisite. Encore!"
But the famous dancer bowed some
what sadly. and excusing herself, she
quilted the room for a short time. When
she reentered she was clad in a severe
brown travelling suit. y plain toque
covered her straight brown hair-her
own hair. There was neither red nor
white upon her face which nature had
not placed there. In her hand was
little travelling bag.
"Adeu. adieu." she cried She ran
from one to the other. shaking them
by the hand and kissing them. She
wept, too. and gave little reminders of
old times now TO this one and now to
that. Before they could realize it she
was gone. They never any of them saw
her again. They never solved the mys-
terry of her disappearance. 1t was a
nine years wonder. 1t was thing to
talk about at matutinal suppers-those
weary. noisy meals that ended with the
dawn. But out of the many guesses
haZarded no one guessed the truth
and it never occurred to anyone to be-
lieve what the danseuse had told them.
Up in Maine there iS q certain coast
town that looks down from bluffs upon
the sea and across slopng meadows to
wide and hayward river The fields
are old and have been worked too long.
The wharven are rich in old tales. but
the vessels that tie up at them now are
comparatively few. Everybody knows
everybody else, and the people have so
married and intermarried that when
family party is given it is difficult to
avoid inviting the whole village.
Into this community there came one
day woman whom nobody knew. In
spite of the modesty of her bearing and
the quietness of her attire she had OBJ
viously the manner of cities about her.
She bought a cottage for herself and
furnished it with simplicity. The ladies
who called could find no fault with the
few pieces of china nor with the mod
Grafton of the decorations. Everything
was in good taste. Everything be-
tokened comfortable condition of the
purse. Nothing spoke of opulence or
extravaganza. At first the callers talked
of themselves-the town, the social life,
the old traditions, the historic spots.
They were frank and confidential.
Then they exacted n return. They en-
deavored to probe the mystery of this
wornan's life and to find why she had
come among them. They were pre-
pared for some concealment. 1t had
been agreed on all hands that the wom-
an was mystery and was likely to re-
main such. But they met with sur
prise. There was no concealment. The