The Olneyville times. (Olneyville [Providence, R.I.]) 1887-1917, 1906-12-07
Y The 4 DENM5 iAMoNDs: i;ii:;;:;: Y


40 lnese thlngS with wonderful art
in France said the old woman.
Now | could have sworn 10 the
! genuineness of the diamonds, but
let the subject drop. | am, however,
quite curious in regard to this old
woman. Nobody in the village knows
anything of her antecedents.
My feeling for Marguerite-that
! is the girls name-is not curiosity.
/ am afraid | fell in love with her
! before | painted her portrait. That
! process Is, however, begun.
She scarcely glanced at the pic
| ture the first two or three days, but
one day she peeped over my shoulder.
! Her surprise was charming
Am | like that?' she said, her
| soft, large eyes full of wondering de-
| light.
Like il, but more beautiful
Monsieur is very good, she re-
! piled, with downcast eyes But the
| picture is like one that Pauline has
! locked up in her drawer. | do not
know who it is, but sometimes /
| think it is my mother
Presently l said:
Don't you remember your moth
er?'
All, no, when | look back il is
| only Pauline, nothing but Pauline >
Only Pauline and what is the
| matter with Pauline, pray?' said
wiry, sinuous voice, and looking. We
both saw the wrinkled, yellow visage
| of the old woman.
A look of vivid dislike crossed
the girls face, and she fastened
away.
Who is Marguerite?' l said, alb
ruptly.
DO you not guess? What
! should she be but a poor founding
whor, for sweet char;ty's sake |
adopted?'
Something in the subtle evil look
in OIL Pauline's face as she said this
made me certain that it was a lie.
Then Marguerite returned.
" Letters, monsieur! she said
The superscription of yours
| caught my eye in an instant. In my
surprise and pleasure l pronounced
| your name aloud. There was an in
stantaneOus crash at the other end
Of the room. | turned astonished and
beheld that hideOus old Pauline-her
face a deathly, yellowish white, and
her eyes wide open and glaring fixed
ly upon me.
Monsieur she said, in strange,
harsh voice. Marguerite ran for
ward.
Pauline, Pauline" she said, in
terror.
Are you in?' l asked, going up
to her.
" Thanks, monsieur! l am not i'll.
Twas an accursed wasp stung me.
Mon Dieu! twas like stab she re-
piled, angrily.
The sting was a pretense. Could
the mention Of your name have af-
fected her so powerfully? Am !
right in my impression that your
family is from Southern France?"
For answer 10 this volumnous
epistle, Basil received a half sheet
from his friend;
Il am coming; expect me on
Thursday"
Basil came in at dinner time, his
eyes shining with pleasure at this
prospect.
Monsieur has good news" said
Pauline, with scrutinizing look at
his face.
Basil glanced at her and perceived
that the glittering brooch was miss
ing.
You are right, Mile. Pauline. Ny
friend, Louis Duyal, is coming 10
make me a visit. Would it be con-
venient for you to accommodate my
friend also?"
Monsieur and his friend are most
welcome TO the whole house" re-
turned Pauline, in a peculiar tone.
II seemed 10 Basil Deane that night
as if his life had but just begun.
Hitherto he had failed. and his life
had had too many burdens. and too
few hopes, for him TO think OF asking
another to share It; but now all was
changed, nothing seemed impossible.
He loved Marguerite.
nlle ne tnOuEnL OF neTs ne saw
the futter Of her light dress in one
Of the shaded alleys.
Marguerite" he said, coming
upon her suddenly.
All, it is you, monsieur" and her
face was illumined
II want you, Marguerite, to have
and 10 keep forever"
Her hands trembled-she faltered
out.
II thought Pauline sent you FOR
me-"
Nobody sent me. saw you and
came because ! love you and wanted
TO be with you. Will you be my wife,
Marguerite?"
Your wife. monsieur, am
poor ribbon weaver" her innocent
eyes lifted to his In frank surprise.
And am a poor artist. There Is
no disparity between US. The only