The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1902-03-13

swung through the changes, and that
her eyes had a hard kind of brilliance.
It was not given him to read the heart
of this romance. He would not try to
probe the thing. He merely watched
and waited. He had known Marie
since she was only big enough to lean
her chin on his knee, and many a time
since she had grown up he and old
Garon, the avocat, had talked of her
and wondered what her life would be,
for it seemed to them both that there
was no man in the parish who could
make her happy, that year in Quebec
had changed her so, had given her lar
ger ideas of life and men.
He had talked much with her from
time to time, and she had always
seemed glad Of that. She thought him
wise, and he had wondered at some
deep, searching things she had said.
He would have gone far to serve her,
for the gossip, now almost legend,
that lie had cared for Marie's mother
before she married Marie's father had
foundation. The cure had stepped in,
for Medallion was a Protestant, and
that ended it, but Medallion had never
married, and, strange to say, the cure
and himself and Marie's father were
the best of friends. Medallion was also
busy watching M. Camille, for he felt
that here was something wherein a
friend might serve Marie, though how
he did not know. He liked the young
mans face, for it had that touch of
loneliness and native solitary thought
which the present gayety of eye, voice
and manner made almost pathetic. He
even saw something more-a reckless
ness, not natural to the youths charac-
ter, which sat on him like a touch Of
doom-and as he thought Marie's al
legory her wonderful, beautiful,
DREADFUL Chose were her words) tale
of love-kept showing in vivid pictures
in his eye.
But if he could have read the young
mans mind, could have seen the strug-
gle going on there, the despair, the
wild hope, the daring, the revolt, the
breaking up of all the settled courses
of a life, he would have been as star
tied as apprehensive, for while Camille
Debarres was urging on this mirth and
revel with a nervous eagerness he kept
saying to himself over and over again:
II can't give her up! God forgive me!
Marie! Marie!'
The words beat in and out of the
music. Youth, humanity, energies of
the active world, were crying out, fight
ing for mastery in the breast of one
soon to be given to the separateness of
the church, wherein the love Of man
and maid must be viewed with a dis
tant paternal eye. A hundred forces
had been at work to put him and keep
him in the church, and when, as a
student, Marie came into his life these
forces, with loving yet severe appre-
hension, closed on him and on the girl
and had separated them, as it seemed,
forever. -.-..s
He was older now, but as he neared
the final act that should set him apart
from the world and close up for always
the springs of youth and desire the old
feeling had leaped up, had filed him.
he had somehow got a few days Of
respite, and this was the result, this
mad escapade, this dangerous play
time! .., - Ii
The night wore on. At last he was
able to catch Marie's eyes. She could
not resist that pleading, the inexpress-
ible hunger in that look. She came
and sat down beside him, and again
Medallion called of the figures Of the
dance
They spoke in very low tones, trying,
with what desperate anxiety to pre-