The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1907-07-12

Nevertheless, every day it was sur
rounded, as usual, with lilies and
roses, his wife's favorite flowers.
The one year heightened to two.
and Durande had returned to his
bachelor life.
otis wrong to bury yourself alive
thus" said his friends and his wife's
relations: "begin, go into the world
again"
Durande yielded, once more went
out, frequented the quarters of his
brother-ofiicers. joined in their 1oliify-
ing, and actually one evening, carried
them all home with him to banquet
in his own apartments. The wine
was good, the champagne sparkling,
laughter, songs, uproar, the order of
the night; when, the supper ended.
they all adjourned to the private Of
flee, where the mortuary shrine stood
alone upon the table, severe and
mournful.
Revelry ran riot, in the midst of
which Durande suddenly recalled the
presence of the dead" as he was
wont to call the urn, caught it UP hur-
riedly, darted from the room, and de-
posted it in an upper chamber, piled
with a bachelors litter of old books,
| boots and firearms.
/ Next morning, determined that pro-
| fanation like that of the previous
! night should not happen again, he re-
solved to turn this lumber room, where
he had temporarily deposited the prec-
| ious remains, into mortuary chapel,
and gave instant orders for cathe-
dral window and niche and altar to
be placed beneath it.
There the urn was again enshrined.
but the lilies and roses had given
place to immortelles. Some days lat
er, perceiving that these had lost color
from lack of air and light, Durande
| had them changed for garlands OF
Sevres and bisque of the costliest
character, and thus the urn stood
peacefully in this calm retreat.
Two years of widowhood heightened
| to three, and Durande took unto him
self a second wife. Why, he couldn't
have told you. Certainly 1t was not
| a case of desperate love, though the
new Nine. Durande was a charming
woman.
| No, he had but one excuse for re-
! filing the empty niche in his life
Nine. Durande the second was exceed
| ingly like Mme Durande the first,
with one exception-she was jealous.
| A jealousy that caused her to look
! with suspicion on every one, word,
or gesture; and the knowledge that
he still retained tender memories of
the dead would have caused her tenn
| pestuous anger.
Durande no longer dared to keep
! the urn in conspicuous place. 1t
was quietly and secretly a third time
removed from its quarters and rev.
| erently stored in a spare room in the
mansarde. Matters grew better as
time wore on; peace and happiness
reigned with the young couple, and
more than once Durande, in this at
mozphere of renewed content, was on
the verge of unbosom.ng himself and
confiding to his wife the mystery OF
the urn. Alas! his courage always
| failed him.
In due time son was born to tAe
house of Durande, and Nine. Durande
| found it necessary to clear out and
use the room where the urn lay for
gotten AS for Durande himself, the
| joy of a new-made father dissipated
all remorse in his heart, and, to cele-
brate the christening with due pomp
and splendor, invitations were sent
far and wide for "a magnificent din
ner
But, my DEAR" said his wife, as
| he came in from the barracks the
day of the great event, don't go to
your dressing-room till you have seen
the table, the flowers arranged with
with my own hands,"
Arranged! A great, heaping cluster
of blood-red roses-in an antique,
strangely familiar Roman urn, which
held the place OF honor on the sumpt
uous board!
| Durand bent closer. His wife saw
him start.
| "Yes," said she, complacently, "'tis
yours, you dear old stupid to throw
away, as you have done, the hand
soonest thing collected in your trip
to Italy. 1t was up in the garnet,
filled with dust; heaven knows how
long it has been there!"
"Wi.with Dust" stammered Du'
rande, white as death, "and-and what
did you do with 1t, the-the dust?"
Threw it on the rose pots, dearest.
that is, what the wind didn't scatter.
But the effect-isn't it lovely?"
Very, very lovely!" murmured the
soldier, with a strangled sigh. And
in the fresh, fragrant flowers. whose
petals parted softly like the lips of
young girl to the first kiss of love,
Durande believed that he saw the
tender smiles and bushes of his dear,
| dead wife TRANSLATED from the