The Farmville herald. [volume] (Farmville, Va.) 1890-1934, 1904-04-08
A TALE OF AUTUMN.

Francois Meyran. the painter, was
sitting back in deep cane chair. lie
was blissfully smoking and watching
Nine. Laurent-Chantel, who was look
Ing through a magazine. They were
elone on the terrace Of an old chateau
overlooking the Seine. Below them
slopes oyergrown with venerable trees
went down 10 the river which curved
h lazy lines TO the horizon, rejecting
the light bridges In its course. Meyran
looked alternately at the woman and
the landscape. Sometimes the eXclama-
tions Of lawn tennis players came 70
their ears, and from the neighboring
woods the shots OF sportsmen were
heard. The leaves were golden, some
branches already bare. Meyran sighed.
"A cruel season!" said be, Its irony
reminds me that winter Is al hand, that
old age is near. ! am 43 years old, my
dear" Alas. my dear Francois, We
grew up together and though you are
my senior It IS only by two years"
You are young" My daughter is just
90" you are handsome" She gave
an Indifferent shrug.
Every room in this house." said
Meyran, every alley in this park re-
calls the sweet memories Of childhood. |
How many times have We come here /
to admire the moon, flooding the val
ley with mysterious light We used to /
fancy that fairies would futter up from |
the shrubs and disport themselves IN /
the night We would read love poems |
until a late hour, while your mother /
slept In her fay0rite armchair by the /
fire. We lived In an atmosphere Of /
love. We talked with burning curl
osity Of the royal favorite who IN the /
eighteenth century. dwelt on the hill op-
posite, In front Of your windows. We
came in from our long walks as dusk
came on. and often. to delay our re-
turn, we would linger dreaming in the
wood, lying on the ground side by side,
so closet | admiring your bright eyes,
your black hair, your laughing lips. I
have often wondered why did not fall
in love with you"
you always thought Of me as a COM
rade. To me you confded all your
schemes. and even your love affairs. /
hope my daughter hears no such con-
fessionsi But you were young; you
needed to proclaim your enjoyment
You will admit that no confidant in a
tragedy ever listened more patiently to
a classical tale. But one evening I
suddenly broke of the conversation;
you spoke too enthusiastically Of the
elderly charms OF a friend OF ours. I
went up to my room and cried. found
I loved you and that you would never
love me-"
That evening I. too, was much dis
tressed. Ny heart beat wildly. could
not sleep. | wrote you a letter which
next morning thought too silly and
tore It up. Some weeks later you ac-
cepted Chantel."
do not pity us. was as happy as
most women are; and many a man
would envy you your fate You have
known the joys OF fame and the glory OF
love conquests"
"Alasl And have Just now learnt
The vanity Of my work and the void IN
my life. The sun IS already going down;
1t this mystic hour, Of old, our souls
we're nearest Then we dared not
speak. DO you remember the delicious /
anguish Of those long silences? How
could we fail to understand each other? {
Ali my dear our lives ought to have q
)een so beautiful"
Hush. hushl Autumn has gone to
7our brain. You know Il IS The heady
eason, when the air Is still drunk with
he fragrance Of the grape, and iow-
.rs exhale their last and most subtle
lying perfumes. When you wished, IN
me Of your pictures, to symbolic the \
dangerous spell Of October did you not
,aint an enigmatlcal figure lifting a cup
o her weary and almost withered lips?
We cannot trust this languorous season.
The time Of fascinating folly IS past for :
IS. The laurels are cut; we shall go no
more to the woods!" II
A young girl came running up and O
brew herself into a deep chair. Now. b
mamma, and you, my old friend, don't {
end me away" she said. 1T Is not o
light enough to play lawn tennis any
lore and I have fed from the young
mems talk. want 10 firt with Meyran.
Ie thinks I am still - years old. He
ever discerns that I am IN love with !
I'm. | make the most shameless ad- 9
ances. which he scorns, OF has not even a
oticed. Meyran, you are not gallant;
n vain DO I pursue you. or neglect you.
'our Indifference provokes me. when
re you going 10 begin my portrait7 I <
VII SIT virtuously, and we viii make
/ a masterpiece" Suddenly she spoke
ravely: Really and truly. Meyran. ] !,
elieve love you Ask mammals con- \
ant" And she ran away laughing. c
After a few minutes Of painful ST. u
.nce Francois murmured: what
ewitching featherbraln." Nine. Lau-
said nothing; she sat a
linking Suddenly she gave a little C..
cream. 1T is nothing" she immedi- il
tely added. Il was idiotlcally fright
ned. A dead leaf fell on my face
ONE in. Il IS beginning to be cold
hicago Tribune. ST