The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1904-11-19

Iad DEen sent Win IRem uuItGT6u Ll
the floor. mfr. John Harrison Thomp
SON, it read, as if in silent appeal fol-
the discarded one. Something in the
injustice Of sending Thompson's ross
They had been meant to convey the
same message of undying love TO her
Poor Jack" she whispered. Then rails
ing her eyes to the window where the
soft moonlight streamed over the floor
1t was just such a night that THAT he
- She did not dare to finish the
thought for fear the memory OF that
night would break down her dutiful
resolve. Still, just for the sake Of the
argument, she unused, suppose that she
had chosen Jack. Her parents, she
knew, would never hear to such a
thing, but suppose that, as Jack had
planned, they had run away. Little
rills and thrills Of excitement quiv>
cred through her frame at the mere
fancy. It had all been SO delicious to
plan. Then, as the wife Of an Ameri-
can signore, she would live in the
American part of the town, meet Amer
lean people, travel, perhaps, over the
great American continent, and come in
time to be herself almost American.
That had been her dearest dream.
Turning to light another gas jet, she
struck a match on the sole of her
slipper-a thing no Well-conducted
Italian girl would ever think OF do
ing, but having once seen it done on
the stage. she deemed it a national
habit
Another tap at the door. rs the
signorlna's note ready?" asked Al
fredo.
She had forgotten all about her an
sWer in her reyerie.
In minute, Alfredo" she an
sWerd again, as she cast about for
some token for Thompson. She could
not bring herself to pen the cruel
words, for he had believed SO conf
IDENTIFY in her. She might take one OF
the stiff, scentless white things she
had in her hair to send him. She
laughed a hard little laugh at the
mockery of exchanging their flowers
He could not fail to understand its
meaning. 1t would be the admission
of the white feather, and the cold,
scentless thing would tell him as well
as any words that her love for him was
dead. Well. she would choose as small a
one as she could to make the hurt as
small as possible. Poor Jack! She
would probably never see him again,
he would some day forget her and
marry some one else, but she would
always go on loving him because she
could not help it.
'Natalia, Natalia!" came the signo-
ra's voice from the hall.
In a minute she answered ner-
vously. 1t must be ten O'clock
Run every step of the way, A1fre-
dot she commanded the stiff old serv-
ant, as If it were through his fault that
she was late, sit is almost ten now, and
you must not be late
"Oh, my dear daughter the little
signora murmured, weeping anew at
the sight of Caspar's camellias, this
time for joy. Il knew all the time that
you would make the right choice You
are too much your mothers own
laughter not to see the right course
1t last. And drawing her tall daugh-
5er's face down to level with her own,
She kissed her tenderly.
The old signore also drew her aside, |
md whispered: Il am glad to forgive
Ill the past anxiety your foolishness
las given us, in my content at knowing |
Fou have at last decided, and so wise
w.
The girls eyes beamed with happi-
less all evening. Not trace of the
'torm-clouds that had darkened her |
yes a few hours before was left. The |
quests that came anticipating new rev.
cations of the rumored scene were |
Lmazed to receive the announcement |
Il the betrothal of Natalia to her IA |
hers friend, Caspar.
1T must have been mistake they |
'egan to whisper in disappointed tones.
Natalfa, although she felt a battery |
t curious eyes always upon her, re-
eived the showers Of felicitation |
hat were bestowed upon her, and was
orrespondingly light-hearted and hap
y. And when the guests had at last
eparted, she kissed her parents fond
Y and tripped gayly off to bed. Fling
ng herself down by the window she
ave herself up to the JOY of the mo-
1ent-the joy Of well-doing and the
Tholesome, happy consciousness Of
aying done what was right and being
estored to the favor of her dear par
nts. The Willful, wicked girl who had
TODD at the same window only few
ours before seemed a trivial, I'M
-orthy thing compared with this good,
utiful daughter.
My love is like a red. red rosei''
Had she slept, and was she dream
ig? Was she to be haunted all her
fe by the echo Of Jacks whistle?
Again the sound, guarded and low,
ut clear, insistent, and compelling.
The window opened softly. "Oh,
ack, go away" tinid little voice
loaded. I'm going to marry Caspar.' %
er voice grew frmer as she repeated
er self-denunciation and her mar
-r-spirit arose.
But Jack was American, and inven-
We in his way. The martyr-spirit
aged under fire. Ten minutes be-
re her life had been dedicated to the
We OF Caspar. But Jack would not
away Then another sudden i'm
Use seized her. o blessed impulse, |
lat saves SO much tiresome thinking!
1t was not all quite simple and plain.
ne window was not high. and Jack