Missouri Valley times. [volume] (Missouri Valley, Iowa) 1874-1931, 1904-03-10
6be Black yzg
VOLTS Breed
:. es.,-,.h, 1888. rs By H~,r. Dickson

THAT Is the reward for her roman.
tic and pastoral tastes" and she
laughed till the tears dripped down
her cheeks. Her hair was still black,
and neither paint not sticking plaster
married the whiteness of her skin. j
; sked no questions. but regarded more
,1osely the young woman with whom
now drifted naturally into conversa-
|tion. Her manners We're strikingly
free and unconstrained. There was,
however, an air! of reserve, of dignity.
Of majesty even-about her, despite
,rankness. which forbade anything but
lhe utmost Difference.
F-sSft.' Does, nay lord .,understand-that?
aud she. pointed her finger to the SER
wants who We're chasing and eaptur-
ing the refractory sheep one by one.
shook my head. for, in all serious
less, it was queer proceeding.
Well, It's too merry jest to keep
.ong a secret. Beside I'm weary of
these eternal shackles of court which
forbid me to speak to those whom l
please" A certain defiance gave an
undercurrent of sadness TO +her voice,
l. mounting rebellion to her tone.
And I will talk IL 1 want to; there's
10 harm. is there?"
Isgravely assured her not, and Won
Tered what was coming.
We'll. you see,' she dried her eyes
OH a handkerchief of costliest lace
"yo see 1ny-that is, the duchess is of
5ucl. a romantic temperament, so en-
amored of rural scenes, tdyllic mead
ows, pretty shepherdesses. and the like
all the court makes merry at her fol-
pie. She thought to astonish Paris u
night by lavish display of sweet sim
plicity-did Monsieur see it? That big
dark place there. behind the glass par
tition, was arranged as meadow,
with stream winding thorugh 1t, and
rocks and trees. and what not. She had
flock OF sheep washed clean and
white. penned up In waiting. AT
signal from her during the ball. lights
were to have been turned on, and Ma
demoselle, the pretty opera singer, was
pathway, dressed as shepherdess,
singing and leading her sheep. oh. it
was to be too pure for this earth. The
iutchess fretted for the opportune
time But the sheep escaped from their
keepers. and, oh. isn't 1t too ludi-
GROUSE"
Thus she chartered on with the naive
selle. I agreed with her. and was in
wardly glad the affair turned out an
accident, for were this the custom of
balls I'd go to no others.
We continued to chat gayly together;
she was of lively wit and surprised
me by her knowledge of dogs and
horses, of the chase, of sword play and
of firearms. odd tastes for u gentle
woman, most of all for one of her ex-
allied rank. OF this latter I had no
doubt. I knew none of the people she
mentioned. nothing of the drawing
room gossip, and she very naturally
remarked.
my lord Is stranger7"
only yesterday in Paris" as
sented."
Prom what place comes my lord?"
and for the second time In day was
driven to direct lie.
From Normandy" I replied.
ITO live in Paris?"
NO. unfortunately; my affairs will
be finished in a few days at most. Then
pensive for space, hesitated in q
pretty perplcxity and then spoke
doubtfully.
you can be Of service to me II you
will"
1 Immediately signifled my willing
ness to render her aid. in the courtli-
est speech | could muster. She looked
1T me long and seriously again, then
again pursued the subject of her
thought
1T is a mere woman's whim, but
crafty my whims. Perchance it is not
a proper wish for a lady of birth, yet
have 1T, and il you Will but aid me.
will carry 1T through"
Moved as much by curiosity as by
any other motive, | inquired of her
what so wcighty matter could be.
Come, let us go into this ante-room
that we may converse undisturbed.
she said, and led me into quiet corner
where there were seats / would have
thoughtlessly taken a place by her
side, forgetful of Jerome's teachings,
but she commanded coldly:
Monsieur will stand"
And | stood.
You are a stranger in Paris, you
seem to be man of honor; for those
reasons / choose you. / would not care
| to have one of my own gentlemen know
what 1 wish to do. All Paris would
| talk of it tomorrow. We in the palace
| see naught of the common people, and
| have long dreamed 1t would be a
| brave adventure to go unknown among
! them to their ms and gathering places.
| l have alwayS. desired to know more
of our Paris, especially one place which
| I hear mentioned frequently of late.
| My position will not permit me to visit
| 1t openly-you understand"
| | protested that knowing naught OF
| the streets l should be but a blind
| guide.
II know where ! would CO." she said.
| determinedly brushing aside the diff
| fieulties l would suggest, and l VIII
| go; you will go too. ~
/ was vastly troubled at this, for
might 1t not lead to such another es-
| capade as came so near costing me
| dear? Her eyes fixed full upon me
| her voice blended command which nc
| man dared disobey, with an entreaty
which none would willingly run coun-
| ter to, and I gave reluctant assent.
| will you await me here?" she de-
manded rather than asked. my
apartments are in this building. l will
| return very briefly"
When the lady came back she would
never have been taken for a woman;
| her long cloak, such as men wore
reached to her boots, identical in all
respects with my own. Her hat, plume
| and sword were correct and bravely
worn. Her maid, tribe nervous over
| the adventure, but who said nothing
/ bore similar cloak for me, and held
two masks in her hands.
1 will my lord throw this about
| him?" and without any question I as
| sumed the cloak.
Now, this" and she handed me 6
| mask while she affixed one about hel
| own face.
] demurred to the mask.
IL will not take my lady upon an err
| rand where we can not show oul
| faces"
She laughed merrily, and replied: II
| is the way of Paris. my lord. ant
\ naAht is thought of it. Many lord!
| and ladies wish to keep their face.
l from the canaille."
] drew breath of resignation ant
Am / not cornely MANI" the lad,
asked, one touch of wonan's vanit.
| showing through it ALL
Yes, by my faith. madame" bu
such sayings were foreign to my awk
ward tongue.
4 She led me out of the palace by a pri