The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1905-04-30

from the day that my daughter smiles
II y pitlful, V II notl and yet, perhaps you 9u
| play only TO the Apply people Of earth
4 rose surprised az the singular PROPOSE
ton, touched by such hopeless misery.
| But, madame / objected, as the full
across my brain, ! am afraid I am not
At all the kind Of man your daughter would
love; what u / should not please herr In
matters Of love women are quick TO dis
Germ the false from the true
"Mme. D. burst into tears.
'only try itr she pleaded.
And promised that / would.
Her name was Christine, this young
girl with the great eyes, who lay slowly
! dying. She must have been very pretty
once, but the long fevers had driven tho
| soft color from her checks. There was
something more than beauty, however.
In her gentle eyes and tender smile:
AS her mother had said, ! had played
many roles In my life, roles Of all natures;
but this one which l played to an
audience Of one. attracted me strongly.
Was II not truly greater creation than
any Of the others; would not my success
bring me a pride and pleasure such as
was conscious Of a strange interest In this
little sick girl TO whom / had come TO say
words Of love.
1T was an odd situation. But felt
from the very beginning that | pleased pleased
believe whatever l should tell her.
Il came TO the house hrst on some pre-
tense and was shown into the room where
Christine was lying. ] shall never forget
how she watched me that first day, her
large dark eyes filling her whole face.
The mother invited me 10 come again.
She too, was playing a part and one that
was even more difficult than mine. We
had 10 plan most carefully together the
story Of our first chance meeting, the occa-
Ginn If M TniU0linn In THAR nnaNpntIul
life.
Il appeared 10 become interested in the
sick daughter ! began 10 bring her pres
ents. books and little trihes which mean so
much TO a woman And what meant
infinitely more, brought her gentle words
and quiet amusement.
L told her funny stories and her mother
seeing Christine laugh so heartily, some
thing she had not done for many long months,
thanked me with a look which encour-
aged me TO 60 on and do my best. Little
by little a semblance Of health came back
to the poor little consumptive. The doctor
was right; happiness was the only medicine
for her.
sThen came 10 see her every day and
my visits brought a quick light Of pleasure
to Christine's large eyes. spent long
hours sitting beside her, reading aloud and
jtsting merrily.
strangely, almost suspiCiously, 80 that was
afraid had betrayed myself. for 1t seemed
to me that she could read my very soul
with her great dark eyes. But the look
would pass quickly and Christine won.d
smile again, frankly pleased 70 see her big
friend.
my visits became part Of her life; she
grew accustomed to me and then IL was
not long before she began to love me At
last. on one Of these beautiful autumn
days when the dying summer seems flushed
with new life told Christine that loved
her In words that rang clearly true. |
shall never feel again the quiet strength
Of passion that filled me then.
The soft color crept into her pale cheeks
as she listened. She had waited for my
confession, she had longed for It, and a. she
heard the tender words spoke her face
grew bright with the happiness that flooded
her whole being and she became far more
beautiful than she had ever been before.
Soon, With joyful tenderness, she ran
/ to tell her mother what a wonderful thing
| had come TO her, and can never forget
| Nine. D-'s face as she came toward me,
gavely smiling, uttering, the words II
were alone, how she fell at my knees and
sobbed.
sThe next day bought the most beauti-
full ring could find When gave It 70
! Chr istine and she realized that she, too,
was to have her share Of the great haPpi;;
! ness which every young girl looks forward
to and for which the betrothal ring stands
as a symbol, she gave low cry OF happi-
Life is not 30 cruel. little mother
she said. As soon as get we'll am going
to be married, / who have always been 80
That Is very beautiful Nine. D.
replied. ,.-...-,-
the first cold weather came, that Christine
knew that she would never get we'll. But
the knowledge did not distress her now.
She was calm and serene and each day
- 49, lraA ma In ~ NIL
never cease TO ring in my ears, for the
| two months Of happiness that / had given
her.
| the greatest doctors TO see her and then,
when all hope was lost. 1 carried her and
! her mother to lovely rose covered cottage
| in the South, whore the sun shines all the
! time. II was there she died, smiling hap
| PLY until the very end.
was playing at the Coincide Franchise,
! Nine. D., dressed In deep mourning,
entered my dressing room. She was
grieyously changed, poor woman.
Of tears, for having delayed 90 long
'She paused and held out TO me a heavy
What is thatF demanded.
i understood. The mother had come
10 pay me, TO pay me for the happiness
Of her dying daughter, TO pay me for play
/ ing my Tole
SCostumed and made UP as was took
her in my arms and held her tightly az
! whispered the only word / could cay, the
| word I had said 20 often before her
/ daughter:
little mother Poor little mother'
did you really love her. this Christinei'
! asked Mile. Darneuille.
The actor was silent for q moment before
| he replied slowly:
'Perhaps'
What has become Of Nine. D-i' !
! questioned IN my turn.
sShe still lives in the little house where
her daughter died. Every year, during
NV vacation. spend long week with her,
amid the memories Of Christine. We talk
only Of her as we walk together. / knew
that there was stu something for me 10 do,
10 strengthen and console the mother,
and that had not yet completed my role