The labor world. [volume] (Duluth, Minn.) 1896-current, 1904-02-20
REVERIES*

naliy alive and ready to descend from
her gilt frame and talk instead OF
hanging there, quietly, in the beautiful
room.
The Marquis de Roukis unlocked the
drawer Of a little desk with the charm
ing curves of pure piece Of Louis XVI
workmanship, and taking a bundle OF
yeilowed letters, tied in blue rib
pom. sat dawn be fore the smiling por-
trait.
The Marquis de Regis was a man
Or more than seventy, but what he had
done and how he had lived Until now
are not part Of this 5torJ. At pres
ent, he was sherishing a dark plan,
that of committing the most grievous
crime possible in the eyes of an hos
tess. He had made up his mind" to
ruthlessly neglect an informal invi-
tation to afternoon tea. 1.-THE Baron
OF Baroness Renaud will be with me-"
Nine. de sainteuil had said. "They are
charming people and I want you to-
meet them. They have just returned
from India and are going to settle in
Paris"
Baron Renaud was, indeed, the one
man In the world whom the Marquis
cared the least to- meet but the Rar-
roness! ah! she was delightful and no
one knew it better than M. de Rou-
gis.
Leaning back in his big armchair,
the old Marquis looked f1xedly at the
portrait of Jeanne de Launniere, today
the Baroness Renaud. He gazed at
the delicate, exquisite features Of the
young girl of eighteen, the sparkling
eyes, tinged with a. trace Of irony,
shaded by white, thoughtful brow
and the little hooking mouth, and it's
infinitely troubling charms.
AS he looked, he touched the faded
letters carelessly and his thoughts be-
came a tenderly sorrowful revery
The tapestried walls Of his room fad
ed from before his sight, and instead,
an immense building appeared. a
magnificent castle, a chateau of the
seventeenth century in all it's splend-
or.
In former times beautiful festivities
had been held at the castle Of the de
Rougis. Numerous equipages had been
stationed in the courtyard and attend
ant lackeys with number. Lit by a
thousand brightly burning candles the
guests had thronged in the big ban
quet hall and the joyful clinking Of
glasses answered to the popping Of the
corks, beautiful flowers hid the white
ness Of the napery and the sparkling
gold and silver rivalled the bright eyes
of the fair guests. In the salons, to
the sound of melodious music, number
less couples had danced joyfully to-
gether. And the intervals of quiet
days, the carve furniture and price,
less draperies had listened to the ten
der exchange of "reminiscences by the
father and mother and the soft voices
of tiny children. Outside the park had
rung with the silvery laughter of young
girls, and with their attendant lords,
they had galloped beneath the spread
ing trees.
Later, in the shadow Of the old tow
IoIN 4
maiden learned to love each other.
The young girls hair was dark as mid
night but her eyes were the blue of a
noon sky. She was eager, dreamy,
saucy and serious and with all her
heart she loved the young man with
the thoughtful brow and searching
eyes.
chateau, they lived their dream of
happiness, often escaping from the
rush, of the concerts and. the balls. into
the quiet moon1it garden where all the
flowers and the kindling shading trees,
knew and shared the joy Of their
secret.
Why had they not married? There
was no answer to theis question in the
yelowed faded letters. Doubtless
there had been misunderstanding alb
| sences, departure, unexpected misfor-
tunes, the ordinary events of hard,
everyday life.
And Jeanne de Launniere had gone
to India to live with her husband. the
Baron Renaud, who was a dealer in
tigers skins. She was very rich but
no one knew the secret. hidden
thoughts that lay at the bottom of her
! heart. She left only her portrait with
the man she had loved and this had
hung, ever since, on the walls of his
private room.
Abandoned and deserted, the chateau
| de Rougis crumbled to ruin in the fight
Of time, all it's sorrowful, brilliant
| memories, burned beneath the bram-
bles: The Marquis, an old man now,
| lived lonely life in his house on the
Champs E1ysies but every day his
heart grey warm at the sight Of the
| smile which had charmed his youth
and upon which he built the love OF
his whole life.
And suddenly, as in novel, the Bar
roness Renaud returned to France.
| At first, the Marquis had felt only
| JOY at the thought of his lost loves
return but later as he sat in his accus-
toned seat before her portrait he re-
| allied that the Jeanne who had come
back would not be the Jeanne whom
he had known, whom he had loved and
it was merely presumption on his part
to dream that he still held place in
her life. The Marquis was wise, as
men must be, sometimes, he was prob
ably forgotten. long ago.
Then he pictured to himself little
wrinkled old woman, thin and worn by
the rude Eastern climate. Quickly he
drove from the thoughts this sad
ard disagreeable vision, this vision OF
what was real, whispering softly to
himself at he looked once. more at the
portrait: Dear Jeanne, will not &c
to meet you this afternoon when my
ear echoes, as if it were only yesterday
with thy young, harmonious voice and
while my eyes are still haunted by
! gracious vision of thy beauty. I will
not, with a brutal disillusion, kill the
dream which has made my whole life
What good to stir up ashes long time
dead and cold and talk with a distant
voice which you could not hear?' Il
not the present mine and have I moi
| known my happiness?'
"Yes," he added after loving glance
at the radiantly beautiful portrait, yes
I wept bitter tears at thy departure
! and T fho1pht T 2ho1111 die NJ thv