The Birmingham age-herald., 1905-09-17
QUAINT OLD FONDAVERA
 IS SHROUDED IN MYSTERY


 Noster" as though in penance for a sin committed back in the shadowy past.
 It is said that in the long ago the padre loved against the churches command. It was love that burned with all the lh- tense fire of expression, for he never spoke it, even when the dark eyes of the young French girl were lifted to ms Wilh their story written so plainly that he who runs might read" and with the nh- mistakable glow of an ardor which was not at all inspired by his religious teach ings The stern voice of duty-to his church and his God-sealed his lips, for he was a mission priest and she one Of his faithful communicants. He had looked upon the face of woman and had dared to love- but his love burned into ashes of outlived heart-breakings.
 The beautiful French girl of wealthy family, who once dwelt within the realms of Fondavora returned his love and through all the years fretted out her young life in silence. She was queenly girl and lived in the old chateau many years. Every Sabbath day she attended mass in the little stone chapel and bent low her graceful head over the ivory beads which were not so white as the dainty fingers that told them off one by one.
 Haunts Her Boudor
 The girls soul, too. is said to haunt the room which in life was warmed by her sweet presence, and there is no one who dares sleep within the place. To be sure the family now living at Fondavora occupy their own particular bedrooms undisturbed by restless spirits, but they refuse to use this room. And so it Is left closed-the heavy blinds folded together The damp air strikes on one like the breath of death when the door is opened to admit of curious inspection. They say she can be seen each night few mo- ments making her way to the window ' that faces on the chapel yard. There she pauses with clasped hands and burning eyes, gazing into the night, where the priest, love-tortured, paces to and fro. His lips move in prayer and the fatntest whisper is waited across the flower strewn lawn Ave Maria, Ave Maria and then lispng off into the plea for the virgins intercession in behalf of his tor mented soul.
 So these two haunt beautiful Fondavo- ra-the French girl and her souls guar dian whom she grew to love. It may be that her listening ear heard more of the soft music of loves voice than the ad- monition to prepare for the next world, for what does warm, young love reckon of tombs and silent graves? Of what force are prayers and devout meditations when the tumultuous heart of youth throbs with life? It may be that the young French girl thought of these things and the pity of 1t all but she never told the priest. He, too, kept on his armor of self-control, and no word of love ever crept from his lips. Yet he suffered much, knowing that he had learned to love a beautiful girl more than the cold promise of a future life. And he realized that his knees would bend in more willing worship before her shrine than on the cold flags of the al- ter's face, before the tiny ray of feeble, fiickering flame-the cymbol of the D- vine Presence-which cast its shadow over the crucifix towering above and wavering in the uncertain light.
 So the priest suffers for his love and paces his restless way over the length of the well-worn path before her win dow. each night, as he was wont to do in the years of long ago, never knowing that she was behind the curtains; her hands clasped and pressed close over her breast. her burning eyes upon him and her white gowns lace ripplng In tu- multuous waves from her snowy throat as she stayed the throbbing of her heart.
 Home of Royalty.
 The history of Fondavora deals with important personages. When the exiled king of France, Louis Phillipe, taught school at Bardstown-which is not far distant-he made the intervals between his labors bright days of rest at Fon- davora. and lived there many months. This young monarch's career has been the theme of song and story ever since he first landed upon the shores of a country that promised-and gave-a free dom unknown in the old world. He grew passonately fond of Fondavora for 1t was strikingly similar, in many respects. to his own land which lay enshrined In his heart. In fancy he can see his noble young form stretched beneath the shade of the trees which were similar to those of his beloved France for they were the Norway frs. cypress and cedars; his sombre eyes glowing like coals In the youthful face and his thoughts far away. The solitude of this woodland was never broken save by the exultant melody through the peaceful glades. Fondavora made such an impression on the exile's mind that years later, when the bishop of Bardstown came to call upon him as he had often done in the woods of Fondavora-at Paris. where Louis Phil lpe had assumed his rightful place in his own kingdom, he recalled the happy days spent at Fondavora and the many incl dents that had frightened his lonely ex- ile, as rare plant found in a desert cheers a weary traveller. So surrounded by all the gorgeous luxury of the old worlds offerings, still the heart of the young monarch turned back to the days
  tiful Fondavora woods.
 Dwelling of Noted Woman.
 The Countess Octavia Hensel, a noted French woman, gifted in many ways. owned the place for years. "I love Fon- davora." she has often been heard to say, "because 1t Is so like the little chateau which the Emperor Napoleon gave to Josephine and In which she lived for so many years in the suburbs of Paris" The Countess died only few years ago. She was well known through out the middle states, She was musi- clan of rare talent and won much fame at home and abroad.
 What further mysteries. what other noted personages will dwell in Fondavo- ra what will eventually become of the old building and it's rugged mission house who can tell? From Its solid outline and deep dug foundations. 1t bids fair to stand for another century, weathering the gales of the Storm King and defying the devastating hand of Time.
 Cheerfulness During Illness.