The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1901-08-13
waIk,ng wftn ner mother or nsr maid.

walking with her mother OK her maid, |
but that was all.
Marcel, with an irritated air, preserved
a severe silence, and the uncle changed
the conversation. But the young man
presently got up to go look for cigars,
and then came the uncle's chance. Quick
" and in short, rapid sentences he ex-
planned his idea Adorable young girl
parents excellent people-house first class
first class wouldn't act blindy, of course
must ask information-but he would at
tend to all that-but If, as indeed he was
certain beforehand Re-enter the neph-
ew with the cigars. Thibaut broke off
short and stuck his fat finger to his
mouth in sign of warning. Almost at the
same moment a formidable sneeze made
every glass in the hall ring again.
"Uncle," said Marcel, with the most
charming calmness. you are taking
cold'
The next week, in company with his
nephew, Thibaut went to take the train.
AS they walked past the Lemadie
grounds Thibaut suddenly stopped and
with a firm hand rang the bell. At an
impatient movement from Marcel he
turned toward that young man and said:
''If this bores you, my dear boy, you can
walk on. l, however, certainly owe the
Lemadies a visit of thanks, and ! shall
pay it."
"a visit of thanks? For your cold in
the head?"
exactly" said Thibaut, with perfect
placidity.
The door opened and Jeanne showed
herself, more charming, more enticing,
than before. Out of mere politeness Mar
eel followed his uncle.
Then followed at once the most SYM
pathetic greetings, shakes Of the hand
warmly exchanged. Then were the chairs
| gathered about the table, the Marsha
was brought, the glasses were filed and
gayly were they clinked together.
That same evening Thibaut had long
and mysterious colloquy with his sister
in-law, which, to Judge by the viyacity
Of the gestures and by the facial contor-
tons Of the speaker and by the reflective,
attentive physiognomy Of his listener.
was Of the highest interest to both Of
| them.
Soon, soon did Nine. Filhol become the
| intimate friend of Mme Lemadie, and M.
Marcel, her son, strongly unwilling at
| first to accompany his mother on her
neighboriy visits, accustomed himself lit
| tie by little to the task and ended by
paying visits on his own account, when
he passed the whole evening there with
| out her. This caused certain very curl
| GUS and malicious smile to show itself in
| the corners Of the twinkling eyes of his
| uncle. Many things did that smile signi-
| fy. Jeanne and he had become great
| friends. So soon as he appeared she ran
| to him, her hands outstretched, and @, pn
kissed him bravely, like the good old
uncle that be was, who knew the future.
On the 18th of September Nine. Filhol
asked the hand of Mile. Jeanne Lemadie
| for her son, Marcel. Nobody was sur
| prised. For several weeks they had all
known what was coming.
That very evening both families sat at
| table in the garden at the foot Of the ter
| race. The soft evening was stirred by
! mild breezes, full OF odorous scents, the
stars twinkled in the dark blue sky, and
| the moon threw her pale Eight on the ta-
| BILE where the coffee smoked in the cups,
| and projects for the future, the happy fu-
| ture, succeeding each other one after the
other without interruption, were gayly
| discussed.
'Niece," said Uncle Thibaut, Twill you
take turn in the garden with me?"
He passed the girls slender arm be-
meath his own, and when they reached
| the spot whence had darted that furious
| Jet of water from the nozzle of the hose
he stopped her and said, "Just suppose
had not been on the other side of that
| gate three months ago.. eh?'
"Ah, uncle" said Jeanne, "why do you
tease me still about thatf Haven't you
forgiven me yetr'
"Forgiven youw cried Thibaut. "Why
there was nothing to forgive, my dear
child. knew well enough that you
didn't do 1t on purpose"
"And that Is perfectly true" said
Jeanne without thinking, for it wasn't
| you l was aiming at"
"Aiming att" said Thibaut astounded.
"But if you
I've told youp'
her breath and desperately ashamed she
owned that she had been aiming at Mar
| eel. "He-he used to walk by every day."
she said. "and used to look at him, and
| he never looked at me, and / used to
wonder why, and did everything / could
without doing anything, you know,
uncle-but he never honored me with the
smallest attention"
1.-THE imbecilep
wasn't he? Well, that day felt so
| miserable, SO desperate, because he
wouldn't look, and all at once saw him
with you. Then-oh, don't know what
came over me, but thought, 'Ah, you
won't look at meP and SO. bang! turned
the nozzle on him. Only was SO
wrought up, SO unhappy, that
'eThat 1t was who got the ducking!
| Upon my word-sapristi! If had known
that sooner
"WellT' she said, looking at him boldly
with her mocking eyes.
well? Well, indeed! l shouldn't
have concerned myself about your mar
rage, mademoiselle."
"You Wouldn't" she said, with look
and tone incredulous. "Go along, you
| dear old uncle. Don't know you? You
are too good to make any one unhappy.
And, after ALL" she said, SO coaxingly
that Thibaut felt himself lost before she
spoke, you guessed, probably. that you
would have in Jeanne a little niece who
would love you and take care of you bet
ter than any other you could find any
where, didn't your
Burning Up Old Letters.
| What more distressing occupation can