The San Francisco call., 1904-08-14

hill lands had taught her to shrink,
the romance of her life had been
found. Esther, recalling the scene at
the Dukes house, closed her eyes ana,
like one who dreamed while waking
she repeated Arthur's words.
He loves me-" she said. "he loves
me-and tomorrow shall see him"
There is no hour more supreme in
a young girls life than this. Content
in her dreams Esther fell asleep at
last and did not wake until the morn
ing was far advanced, and a newer
stronger voice of Paris echoed in the
avenue beneath her window. She
knew It was very late. and in that
suspicion the untiring Suzanne con-
firmed her when she came bustling
into the room with the steaming cof-
fee and the dainty bath gown.
"Ah, mademoiselle, how you have
slepti II is almost time for dejeuner.
And the doctor left so early. Do you
know it is II o'clock-of course not;
we never know what time it is when
we are asleep"
AT what time did Madame Julia re-
turn, Suzanne?" she asked of the bus
tling maid; lit was very late, am
sure"
Suzanne. skimming about the room
like bird. answered gayly:
''Ah, she was late enough, made
moiselle, for she is not yet returned.
it is always like that in Paris. You
walk, you drive, you laugh, you eat
but sleep,-heaven, who would sleep
here! There's so much TO see. 1t
would be q betise TO sleep, made
moiseIle.'
Esther laughed at her drollery, but
she was. none the less, little troubled
at Julia's absence.
Did madame leave no message,
Suzanne? She must be staying at a
friends house. Perhaps / ought not to
have my breakfast until she comes;
it seems so selfish 10 go on
Not selfish at all, mademoiselle.
Every one goes on in Paris Perhaps
Madame Julia viii never come back at
all. l do not know. There is the doc
tors letter"
She indicated an envelope upon the
large writing table at the farther end
OF the room and Esther recognized
at once the strange handwriting of
her friend and master. She had been
not a little mystified last night by the
enigmatical words which Dr. Xaxier
addressed to her. and now when she
heard that he had quilted the house
and that this letter was his message,
she opened it very anxiously and read
it through to the end as something at
present beyond her understanding. The
formality of it startled her. She had
not read many lines when she realized
it was a letter OF farewell.
IA AVENUE HOCHE,
AT Midnight.
Dear Miss Venn: Your determina-
ton to consider me still as your friend
will allow something to that necessity
which compels me to quit Paris
so abruptly. and will forgive the
brief farewell which alone is pos
slbie in this emergency. Such facts Of
my life as have become known to you
during the pleasant months we have
labored in common cause have
taught you that, if science is much TO
me, my country is more. Events,
changing and swift, call an exile from
his retreat and command his service.
My fellow-cOuntryme summon me and
] go TO them, whether it be for good or
i'll 1 know not; but as a patriot and
servant l accept the call The same
cause compels me, for the moment to
restore to you that independence of life
and action which L asked of you six
months ago. We have set ourselves an
aim and we have reached it. More elo-
quent that any words of mine must be
that voice of Paris which you have
heard so Enthusiastically and will hear
again in these happy days which
l., ,f,1,
possess is the rarest and most precious
= which women can win. 1t will open
every door to you. Set no confines to
your ambition, save those which your
own character and actions may trace.
Use it as becomes your wise discretion
! and your gentle disposition. Remem-
Der that there is nothing beyond your
p reach if your wisdom is your master.
Some day, il may be, your destiny and
= mine viii draw US together again.
leave that to the unwritten future, but
for the present I say that the man Of
science thanks you, that the friend re-
members you. The rooms which you
occupy in Paris are your own, for your
occupation or disposal as you may
think fit. And, furthermore, the Bank
of France has my instructions to pay
and July in each year the sum of
twenty-five thousand francs, that you
may be deprived of nothing to which
my own way Of life has accustomed
: you. This trifiing obligation you will
permit to a man whose vanity you have
fattered and whose scientific fame you
have assured. Believe me that his
farewell is not spoken lightly or with
out a sense of that kindness and patti
ence he has suffered at your hands,
and you will find him always in mem
CRY and grateful homage,
Your devoted
"XAVIER DE MONTALVAN."
Esther put the letter down, and
standing at the open window she
watched the people in the sunny
avenue below. Her first thought was
that they were strangers to her, and
r.