Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1904-04-16

thrown Violently open. and out strutted
q tiny lady In a most disproportionafe
She was beautiful neither In face
nor figure sht was diminutive, and
petulant of manner but bore herself
with an air or almost regal pride. IL
was h whom / came to know az
Madame du Maine, a daughter Of the
proud and rrincely Condos Following
her, weeping bitterly, came the sweet
maid who had spilled the tray of
flowers on me at the door. / stepped
back into an alCove. leat, J.ercaGnce,
she look oehird, and ai-nlessly ! strag-
gled out into the gardens as best L
might.
The villa being a strange ground, IL
fretted me to be alone therein, with
nothing TO think of but this trouble Of
my friends And Madame de Chartrain.
did l blame her? Blame Jerome? Yes
no. i hardly knew. Viewed at a dis
lance and impartially, such things
strike us with aversion, and we are
quick to condemn. But the more /
thought the nearer l came to conclud-
ing 1t took something more n a mere
mun1mery TO make a wife. All the
ceremonials and benedictions and light
ed candles and high-sounding phrases
could not bind a woman's heart, where
that heart was free, or called some
other man it's lord. Yet the bare fact
ASiiiuiiiCh, lhlo NoLldH NdS a WIZ az
to me, at least, that name had always
been q sacred and holy one.
To what vain or wise conclusions my
cogitations may have led me, ! con-
ceive not. for another small matter
now quite absorbed my whole atten-
ton. IL was the beginning of that
one dear hope which speedily banished
all others. 1t is said the trippant tread
of fate doth leave no print upon the
ca nj IN mark itC ma GA nor doth
she GUN a note of warning hat the
waiting hand may grasp her garments
as she flies.
A. CLEAN of white in one OF the sum
mer houses caught my rowing eye, and
quite aimlessly l passed the door. A
chit of a child crouched upon the floor,
and leaned forward on the benches,
weeping as though each sob were like
to burst her little heart. / grant 1t was
no affair of mine. yet my tears were
ever wont to start, n eyes play trait
or to mine arm at sight of woman's
trouble. Without thinking one whit, /
stepped in beside her, and laying my
hand gently upon the lassie's shoulder,
implored that she weep no more.
Up she sprang to face me, flushed
and indignant. Verify was l abashed.
Yet there was that of sympathy and
sincerity in my voice and mien-or so
she told me ~after-which turned her
wrath aside.
You, monsieur; 1 thought it was old
Monsieur Ward, he pursues me So"
1t was the same little maid l had seen
in the hall, and that was why /
trembled. She wept now for the sCo'd-
ing she had got. | caught my breath
To inquire why she wept.
"Oh, madame, ~madame-it is the
humor of madame to humiliate me of
late; she reminds me ever of my de-
pendent position. And monsieur the
child Strengthened up proudly till she
was quite a woman. Monsieur, /
come OF a race as old as her own-and
as horored." Charles is poor-the
Chevalier de la Mora, you know. But
now he goes TO the colonies, and will
take me with him"
1t was a silly thing to do, but about
mere l stalked most unceremoniously
off, leaving her to her sorrow and her
tears. Since that day l have often
smiled TO think how foolishIy do the
wisest men deport themselves when
they first begin to love. Their little
starts of passion. their petty angers
and their sweet repentances-all were
uneXplored by me, for Love to me was
yet an unread book.
At the DOR of the house NJ. Leroux
hailed me graciously:
Continued Next Week.)