The Montgomery advertiser., 1907-10-20


 as Camille. in the vain hope of her res toration to health. The girl died there; and the Dukes grief was such as almost to deprive him of reason. While he was in the midst of his men tai agony he suddenly met the Lady with the Camelias on the street. In his blinded mind there came the thought that the spirit of his daughter had appeared to him; and, indeed, there was an extraordinary resemblance be- tween the dead girl and the living one. Seizing Camille in his arms, the old man wept over her; and when he real ized that his fancy had played him a trick, he stil' implored leave to worship the image of his dead child.
 Camille told the Duke that she was an orphan. i'll and friendless. and he bade her consider herself as taking the place of his daughter. The weary girl consented. Visions of a new life be- gan to dawn upon her. She felt that her life In Paris had been only some terrible. fevered dream, from which she had awakened at last.
 At first the frequenters of the spa laugh ed sand wagged their heads. but when they found that the old Duke really regarded Camille as his daugh- ter they sped to the old man with sto- ries of the girls past. They had enough to tell, and 1t did not lose any thing in the telling.
 The old man summoned Camille and told her what he had heard. With tears of genuine overpowering grief Cailie confessed all. and begged the Duke to take no moro Interest in her. she was unworthy of his kindness and would go away. Her slender frame shiddareA while she spoke, as she saw before her a life with which she nad thought herself done forever; but with a piteous sigh she resigned nerseif to fate.
 CaniIle,s confession was a savage blow to the Duke. From the moment her resemblance to his dead child van ished in his eyes. But she had become a necessity of the old mans life. Her care was his only pretext for wishing to live longer.
 therefore, when both had recover ed themselves somewhat, he asked her if she thought herself capable of re- lecting her past life. of plotting It ou. forever If so he would still be her friend and protector.
 With fresh tears of gratitude Camille embraced her benefactor and declared that the past was buriedforever. Sean dalous tongues might wag as slay would now. Camille was happy. She gained strength daily, and she said to herself that God would again grant her health and beauty in exchange for her repentance and conversion. And truly her peaceful mind. the wa ters, exercise. natural fatigue and sleep restored her by thsend of sum- mer.
 Then the Duke accompanied lis pro- tege to Paris, where khe world Wal shocked at first--or oaeLended to be- until 1t learned the real situation, when the world became sneering aad scorn- tul.
 Camille was established in little home of her own. where She Duke visited her daily as a father might visit daughter. No dandies hung over her chair at the Cafe Anglais at nlgnt now. and when she visited a theater she went accompanied by a duenna and no young men about town dared stroll nonchalanty to her side as they had done formerly. 5ho was living down her past and doing it bravely.
 It was two years from .he time when Armand Duval had first been en- tranced with the lovelaaess of Ca- mile. He was walking in the foyer of Varieties with a friea1 when a woman passed. plainly dressed and yelled. with whom his friend ex- changed bows. / N
 'Wno is she3' asked Armand.
 Camille Gautier' was the reply.
 'She is greatly changed" was all Duval could say.
 ''So you know her?' responded his friend. 'Well, she is greatly changed. She has been adopted by a rich old duke of some sort, l beiIeve, but the poor girl has consumption ana will aot last long,
 Armands heart beat violently-he could not tell why. His friend looked ct him in surprise. Why said he, ''are you in love with herr"
 "Oh, mo-" replied Armand, T never spoke to her but once and then only for a minute"
 Later Duval saw Camille in her box She was still beautiful, but with a hectic. frail beauty, contrasting strong ly with the fresh, youthful loveliness that had been hers two years before Shc had returned to Paris greatly i'm. proved and lovelier than ever; but she was not cured. The wasting and fn- sidious disease of which she was the victim was not to be shaken off by one summers stay at Bagnieres.
 Camille had haunted Armand for two years. Now that he saw her again his mind was plunged into a tumult out of which emerged only two thoughts, borne in upon him so that It was fate And he must see her, must talk with her. It was impera- tive.
 He discovered that a woman whom he had formerly known, Prudence Du- yerney, lived next house to Camille in the Rue d'Antin. Prudence was all her name implied, except that 1t took no great diplomacy to make her tell all she knew. and something of what she imagined. Prudence was 90, had once tried to act, made a failure of 1t, and relying upon her knowledge of Paris. had gone into the millinery business and made a success of 1t. She was Camilles miliner; more or less & companion for her. It was easy to get Prudence to talk about Camille.
 "Shc must be a charming person." ventured the willy Armand. T wish [ knew her"
 "oh, well. at the opera, time. I will introduce you."s
 Could you not arrange it so that I could eall--as your friend?" faltered
 "oh. dear me. mol" said Prudence. s'Mademoiselle Gautier receives no. body. That Is nobody but the Count de NJ. She only allows him to make the most formal calls, But do you know, she borrows money of him"'
 "Borrows money of him?" Armand winced.
 "Oh, yes, but you must not mention if. The Duke would be furious if he knew You see the Duke allows her sixty thousand francs a year, but what is that to Camille? In spite of what the Duke allows her and what she borrows, she Is in debt"
 When Prudence told Camille Of the young man who so ardently desired to make her acauaintance. a thought ful. sad look came into her eyes. "Ar- mand Duval" she said. meditatively.