Waterbury evening Democrat., 1905-04-06

I !. . of the day before in full detail, for getting. however, the incident of the kissed hand and lost handkerchief. When she had finished she looked at her friend triumphantly and awaited her answer. Mademoiselle was thoughtful for a moment. then re- piled:
 That he was gay and delightful sort of sinner we'll knew, but that he could be ungallant or deal cow ardly blow did not believe. How ever, do not know but on the whole am glad 1t happened. have re- preached myself much of late for my selfishness in having him about when you were near. He Is wildly in love with you. and feared lest"
 Lest I should learn to love him simply because he was a man, and witty and clever?"-and the room was filled with rippling laughter as the girl gave way to the merriment her friends speech had caused
 "No." she went on, suddenly be- coming serious, ''the man I shall love, if such there be, must be brave; no descendant of Eleanor, wife of Henry Plantagenet, could ever love coward. That he be of gentle birth care not, although he must be f truth gentle and gallant. He must also fear God and hate the devil, although I would have him no monk. He must love me as no other person or thing on earth, and must. woo me, not with soft words and sighs, but by deeds, with a reck- less earnestness that shames to hide it's love from any one, and which will seek every honorable means to gain its end. And last and best of all, he must be true; true to what he deems right; true to his God, his king, his friends-and to me-" She sighed as she stopped moment. And so I shall wait until he comes;" and going over to the couch, she picked up her lute and sang to plaintive melody: Until he comes! Cease, heart, thy trou-
 bled beating;
 Reserve your strength for mine own
 hero's praise.
 Cease. lips of mine, less worthy names
 repeating;
 Peace, troubled soul, through all the
 coming days
 Until he comes,~ until he comes.
 While she sang, mademoiselle looked at her with misty eye, for this sight into a nature which in depth and ten derness was so foreign to her own reused strange longing and faintness within herself She shook off this feeling as Renee's voice dwelt finger insly on the last words of her song, and laughingly said:
 Mon Dieu! Such dreams are beauti- ful, but if those are your standards, have no fear of losing you. for believe me, ma cherie, there is no such man in France. But where got you your sweet song?"
 Renee again blushed. q wrote it this morning after you left for Paris. 1 was lonely. It is nothing"
 "Tell me more of this strange knight" resumed mademoiselle, "who so opportunely arrived to rescue beauty in distress. Was he tall, dark, light, or fat, or what special mark dis the features of your cham pion?" tt"How he looked cannot describe to you," was the reply, "save that he was, manly, of soldierly bearing, of high spirit, and his manner towards me was full of all gentleness."
 Mademoiselle eyed her narrowly as Renee spoke. The earnestness or some other quality of the tones of her voice convinced her.
 q have it, ma petite. have dis covered your secret; it was of him you dreamed when I entered" she cried, clapping her hands and laughing heartily.
 Reree's blushes only added, to her merriment. True, it was of him l thought" she replied wth some spirit, "but my thoughts were rather those of anxiety than those you i'm agine. feared lest in the duel that will be fought, one more victim should be added to the list of the Comte de Miron's treacheries"
 While speaking thus, the sound of