Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1908-02-06

such a subject.
AS Fabrice rose from that cruel de-
liberation, the portiere OF old tapes
try which closed the entrance TO the
studio was pushed aside, and the fresh
and pretty face of Marcelle appeared.
do I disturb you, father?" said
she.
The father became very pale.
NO She said.
MAY l come in?"
Certainly"
She entered, her bonnet in her hand
and came to him to be kissed.
Are you sad?'' asked the child.
"Why do you wish to know if l am
sad?"
you are not working"
Il am resting a little. You have
been running, my dear child? You are
very red"
Il have just taken my piano lesson
with mamma"
Us she always good to your
Very good
And you always love ner!
Very much; always-but you more.
Now I am going to play under the
trees, not in the sun. Be calm"
She went out. He recalled her.
"Ah, l wish to say something 20 you,
my child; come here" He took her
head between his hands and looked
into her eyes. my dear child, wish
to ask-you something's"
What, father?"
He hesitated for a few seconds;
then quickly, with constrained smile
II want you to ask me to kiss You
again. You may go now, my child. Go
and play. Go quickly
She went out running.
When she had disappeared, the art
list, who was, however, as firm as
rock, brushed aside a tear. Then he
arose, took his palette and began to
paint.
The next day in the afternoon, he
was astonished to see Calvat again
enter his atelier.
How dare you present yourself to
me?" said Fabrice to him with a men
ac;ng gravity.
MY dear fellow" Calvat answered,
in a submissive tone, might brings
counsel. / come to beg pardon. l was
not drunk yesterday, as you said
somewhat rudely to me, and | would
add that l did not lie; but | was
wrong | comprehended it, to bear you
a word which a child might, indeed,
have imagined, and which might be,
and indeed, probably is, a falsehood.
have reflected well, and l am persuad-
ed that Marcelle imagined that story
which she told me. Children are, You
know, voluntary tellers of falsehood,
and their falSehOOds often have the
frankness, which you might have re-
marked in that pleasantly of Mar
celle. It would be Of no use to ques-
ton her In such case, the child will
sustain her faIsehood or may disavow
it. One does not know which. The best
thing then, it seems to me is to pass
the sponge over the transgression of
the little one, forget my excess Of
zeal, which is also incomprehensible,
and give me your hand"
The justification alleged by Calvat
1t bore to the overwhelmed soul of
Fabrice half solace, which dis
armed him.
$50 be it." said he, extending his
hand, ''but 1 do not wish to hear a
doubtful word about my wife. l wish
you to remember that"
However, dating from the day when
the suspicion entered his mind, the
painter, whatever might be his con-
troll over himself, could not help see
ing between his wife and Pierrepont
some signs of the pre-Occupation
which beset him. They confusedly
felt that his attention was aroused
with regard to them. By common ac-
cord, their meetings became still more
rare, and at the same time, their
passion, more troubled and crossed,
became more impatient. They met no
longer outside the villa of Bellevue,
Beatrice having opposed an invincible
resistance to all the com inations that
Pierrepont had proposed to her to IA
cilitate their tete-a-tete. She was culp-
able, but even in her transgression
she maintained a hauteur of soul
which refused to allow her to submit
to the expedients of vulgar galantrie.
In the cond lions of the existence Of
which had been created for them, to
supply the rareness of their converse
tional meetings, it would have been
difficult to have not submitted to the
fatal temptation to write each other
that was what Gustave Calvat await
ed. AS one may imagine, CalVat had
regretted his information, and had ex-
cused himself with Fabrice only that
thus he might manage to re-enter the
house and there survey more at ease,
her whom he was resolved to destroy
Calvat was a clown; but he was not
fool, and he had, above all, in high
degree the instincts and the tastes of
the policeman, which seem to particu-
larly belong to the Bohemians of his
order.
Before even Marcelle had asked
him that terrible, yet innocent, ques-
ton which he had been pressed to re-