Waterbury evening Democrat., 1905-04-06
and had taken her as her personal at

tendant. l Struck by the nobility of thought and character soon displayed by he. protege, she chose to keep her alto gether from thes noxious vapors of court life and allow the budding flower to develop uncontaminated within the bounds of her own presence. Her es. pecial fear was that her royal cousin, the king, becoming enamored of the freshness of her beauty, should seek to pluck this blossom for his own re- freshment as he had so often done be- fore. Hence it was that Renee fol- lowed her patroness from castle to castle as she in turn visited her diff ferent estates or accompanied her to Paris, where, lodged in mademoiselle's city house, the palace of the Luxem- bourg. she remained hidden from all masculine eyes, save those alone whom mademoiselle deemed it prudent to admit.
 ] A lute that she had been playing lay i on neighboring couch. Her hands, l clasped above her head, grasped firmly i the carved woodwork of the chair, while her feet were hidden among the silken pillows strewn about the floor Her whole attitude was that of de- licious, dreamy restfulness Her eyes wandered listlessly over the trim lawns and the broad terraces by flights of steps, over the statues and vases, glimpses of which could be caught here and there amid the varying greens of the shrubbery. Gazing at the jets of water rising out of marble basins, the precisely arranged flowers and orange trees lining the walks, she was but faintly conscious of their beauties, for her eyes followed her thoughts on past the park to the river-edge where the water-lilies grew in wild profusion un- der the shadows of the tree-enshrouded bays. Here they rested for moment, then on and up to the horizon, beyond which lay the great city with its noisy teeming life. less than three leagues away from this retired spot where all was quietude, order and repose.
 At length that strange conscious ness that some one was looking at her eXerted it's influence over her thoughts, and she involuntarily withdrew her gaze from the window. She turned her head and beheld mademoiselle standing in the doorway, watching her with a strange expression of mingled respect and affection; respect, because, reared as she had been in the atmos- phere of the court reeking with that moral miasma that pervaded every thing, she could especially appreciate the beauties of feminine nature fair and unpolluted; affection, because in the young companion she saw bits of her own self when at her age: cer- tain proud consciousness of birth, playful humor at times deliciously feminine, yet a nature capable of re- spending to the sterner duties of life Then. too, with all her greatness and wealth, mademoiselle's life had been essentially lOveless, artificial exist ence; hence in the companionship of this warm, affectionate young nature, the ever-living divine maternal ele- ment within her was satisfied by hay ing something to love. :
 An! ma mignonne," she exclaimed, as soon as their eyes met, "dreaming again! Happy indeed ought he to be who occupies your thoughts;" and go. ing across the room, she kissed the girl affectionately on the brow as she arose from her seat.
 Renee blushed furiously at these words. Mademoiselle noticed her con- fusion with a start of pain, for in her selfishness she fondly imagined she could always keep her young friend with her.
 Why should the object of my thoughts be masculine?" Renee asked with mischievous light in her eye. Why could not those beautiful objects from the window, the trees and flowers and all, have held my fancy?"
 "Wly deceiver," cried mademoisele her anxiety and fears melting away beneath her companions words. young
 
 woodland and river: only one object of thought could bring the light I saw in your eyes when I ent cred. and that object is-a man." and with these words she removed her head-gear, which Renee took and put away Come, tell me, ma cherie, what was in your thoughts It will rest me aft, CT my ride. Then, perhaps. I can tell you news from town that will Interest you. Let me see, we Lave gone thus far; it was g man. Now. who could 1t De, Tor you have met but few? COuli 1t be the Comte de Miron. that young scapegrace?"
 Renee had seated herself upon foot, stool and leaned her head upon her protectress' lap, whose fingers passed and repassed with a tender touch through the masses of her hair. At these words a look of. disgust came over her features as she raised her head to speak.
 The Comte de Miron?'' she eA- claimed. Il detest that man with his smooth manners and eternal scowl. do not believe that any one who is al- ways scowling can be trusted. Be- sides. I am firmly convinced that he is base and rude and cowardly. No. no. ma chere Louise, my mind would have to change sadly ere would sully it by thinking of him."
 Mademoiselle looked displeased a, at the first words of her companion