St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1907-06-22


girl in white satin gown, with a
necklace of milk-white pearls about
her softly rounded throat. She was
pulling the petals from red rose and
smiling roguishly out of the frame.
I had always been in love with her
from the time I used to spend my
schoolboy holidays at the manor until,
as young man / ran down to Ker-
sey for week-ends, ostensibly to see
my Aunt Elizabeth, in reality to spend
most of the time before the great fire
place in the dining-room, blowing rings
toward the ceiling and dreaming as 1
watched Marianne dropping the petals
of her crimson rose.
II am going to have a house party
on the 25th of June" wrote my aunt,
land you must not fail me, my dear
Reginald. I shall refuse to take no
for an answer"
This was of the nature of sum-
mons to Windsor castle, and / dared
not disobey Besides, | did not alto
gether object to a house party at
Kersey manor in rose time. However,
at the last minute I was delayed, and
it was not until the evening of the
Goth that drove up the oak-lined ave-
nue. in the soft moonlight. My aunt
met me in the great hall.
"They are having tableaux in the
mushroom" she said. 'Wfll you come
there as soon as you have changed?"
The light was turned low as I
softly entered and stood unobseryed
in the back of the MUSHROOM. There
was hush over the audience as the
curtain was drawn to reveal a lovely
picture. My cousin, Jeanne, smiled
winsomely out of the frame as the
Countess Potocka in the famous por-
trait that is familiar to every one.
The clappin4g of hands drowned the
little murmur of admiration as the
curtain was drawn over it. My cousin,
Jeanne, evidently could not endure the
ordeal of keeping still to be looked at
again, so the encoring died away and
the low murmur of conversation was
resumed.
Suddenly the conversation ceased;
the curtain was about to be drawn for
the next picture, and 1 turned per-
functorily toward the little stage.
I gave a great start and clasped
the back of the chair in front of me.
could see the sheen of her white
satin gown, the long necklace of
pearls about her snowy throat. 1t was
Marianne, but a living, breathing Mar
lame.
Suddenly the lights flared up, the
buzz of conversation grew louder,
everyone was talking at once about
the tableaux. One or two old friends
saw me and came to welcome me, so
it was several minutes before could
make my way to my aunt.
Aunt Elizabeth demanded, pre-
sent me, beg, to the lady of Kersey
manor. Where did you find her? Did
she step down from the frame to-day?
How did it all happen?"
Even as spoke Marianne came by,
Marianne in her white satin gown,
her shimmering pearls and the red
rose still in her hand.
Marian" cried my aunt. "Stop q
moment while present your cousin,
Reginald"
I bowed low. I felt that I ought.
to have plumed hat to sweep the
floor before this lady of an olden
time.
why did you not come down from
your frame before?" I asked. Il have
waited for you for years, centuries,
aeons, and 1 have been so lonely,
though l knew you would come at
last, Marianne, lady Of Kersey ma
nor"
She smiled ravishingly and looked
st my aunt questioningly.
HE is our court JESTER" the lat
ter replied with smile.
But I am not jesting," I cried,
with mock solemnity. "She is Mari
anne, Marianne of the portrait" 1 in
sisted Deny it if you dare"
Eyes, she is Marian my aunt &C.
knowledged. But, Marian, the great
great-grandniece of the lady of Ker-
sey manor and your distant cousin"
mot at ALL" I begged to differ.
"She is Marianne herself, Marianne
who sat to Gainsborough, Marianne
who pulled red rose and flung the
petals at her feet-you are, aren't you,
Marianne?"
Aunt Elizabeth smiled indulgently.
"You must not mind your cousin" she
said. HE is harmless, but I am con-
WINGED he is quite mad"
Then some young upstart bore off
my Marianne for the cotillon. If I
could not dance it with her I show
cred her with favors and danced with
no one else. When she mischievous-
ly brought me a TESTERS cap and
bells in one figure, l put it on re-
luctantly.
The next morning we walked in
the garden together just as we used
to do in the old days, and I gath
cred her roses. We flung bread
crumbs to the trout that rose greedily
to snatch them, and we pelted the
cross old peacock with flowers, and
then we leaned on the sun-dial, and
Marianne's taper finger traced the
letters of the carved inscription just
as I had dreamed of her doing. Her
hair curled riotously, bewitchingly
about her face that was flushed like
the petals of pink rose, as she bent
over the letters.
do you know, Marianne" I said,
that this is not the first time you
ond have loaned IN +b;e 49,, ar