The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1900-05-05
Grandmother's Romance.


We all came to the old chateau for
| grandmother's funeral-ehildren. grand
| children and great-grandchildren. she
| was buried in the corner Of the cemetery
! which she had chose long ago. and after
| the sad ceremony we returned TO the
: old house. Here were memories for ali
of us. For three generations she had
| held children in their joys, and now they
| were all met to mourn her absence from
/ the old place so dear from its associa-
lions with her.
| l mounted the great staircase and en-
tered the room from which they had just
taken her. Here were my earliest recoi-
| lections of her. I recalled how, as lit
| tie girl. 1 would come in in the morning
| as soon as was dressed, saying, Good
morning. grandmother" l always found
| her dressed, for she was an early riser.
| She would leave her chair by the win
| dow and got OF the big. old-fashioned
| wardrobe, which looked SO immense 60
me. and take from it sne expected dainty
With what awe and respect has this
wardrobe filed my childish heartl 1t
| seemed TO me a perfect treasure house
| for all that a child holds dear. On nay
birthdays my presents came from this
storehouse, and I imagined 1t always full
of delightful things, and regarded grand
| mother as almost a fairy.
With those remembranees in my mind
1 opened it now 1t was full of fragrant
linen scented with lavender, except for
a little shelf at one side. where lay sew
eral papers. 1 picked up roll Of yellow
writing paper tied with a pink ribbon
and carried it to the light. Had I any
right to read the pages? They were dis
colored by age, but 1 knew the writing.
Could grandmother have any secrets
which she would wish to keep after
death? Even as I debated I had united
the ribbon, and discovered that 1 held
diary in my hands, and the first words
in it were of love. sweet, pure and ten
der; the first love of a young girl. L
could not resist, and read the pages az
I stood there in the fading light, which
laid before me the romance of my grand
mother.
1t was the month of June, 1872, on
beautiful evening, when even the flowers
exhale more strongly their subtle per-
fumes and the human heart has a desire
to open. Here in the twilight of the old
garden grandmother heard the first words
of love
Beneath the deeper shadow of the
trees, wrapped in the sweet odor of the
flowers, two figures. a young girl and
young man, walked side by side with
slow steps.
Eyes, Clarisse, I am going" said the
young man. And what difference does it
make? Suppose 1 never return from the
war. Who would care? 1 am alone in
the world
You have friends, Horace"
None"
"And l." said she, very low.
YOU cried he; you would care least
of any
There was a long silence The gravel
cd hap hot clio he
night fell little by little. Horace heard
a stifled sound and turned
You are crying, Clarisse."
You hurt me sou
do you love me?"
She faltered and his arms caught her
and held her against his beating heart.
Unresisting she raised her face to his and
their lips met in a long kiss-the first
Horace left the next morning.
She waited long for him. The remains
of the grand army returned without him.
Still she hoped on. Years passed and the
war ended. Many who had been i'm
prisoned returned, but still he delayed.
She pictured him buried beneath the
snow with numberless others, who had
dropped exhausted along the line of tho
terrible march. BE H
Her parents urged upon her the duty
of selecting husband from the suitors
who surrounded hers She resisted as Ing
as possible, then yielded, vanquished by
their insistance and by the certainty of
his death. She gave her hand to Count
d'Estrarville.
1t was ten years since the kiss given
beneath the trees. She was sitting on
bench in the garden, when a stranger
approached her along the path. AS he
neared her she recognized him. 1t was
Horace.
He come toward her with outstretched
arms, then stopped as though surprised
at the GOODNESS of her greeting.
at is too late" she said, Il am already
married.
He explained the reason Of his long alb
sence. Captivity. Siberia, the mines, all
the frightful sufferings he had gone
through, sustained always by a belief in
her love and her loyalty to the unspoken
VOW made in the twilight of the garden.
Never had he lost the hope that he
woUuld some day return to find her wait
ing for him; that their lives, so long d.
vided. would be at last united forever.
You lied to me that night when you
said you loved me-" he cried. the bitter
ness of his disappointment making him
cruel.
No she said, 81 love you. and I shall
always love you. 1t is just for that rea-
son that you must continue dead to me.
I cannot trust myself with you"
And he left her.
This was the story Of grsndmother's
life, as I read it from the old diary.
remembered an old man who lived in the
neighborhood and whom we children call
ed 1.-THE chevalier." l identified him with
Horace. When grandmother became a
widow, and when she was an old lady 10
us, he came to live near her, and they
spent many long hours together in the
sweetest and purest companionship. 1
understood that the two old friends were
dear to one another because their affec-
ton had been founded upon something
more than friendship. TheysSwere too
Old to have aught to fear from gossip
ing tongues and they had so much time
TO make I'D that they could not-.deny
themselves the saddened pleasure of daily
intercourse.
put the little diary safely back in the
old wardrobe. and left the dear old room
From the French.