Connecticut western news., 1909-08-12
.OF UNCERTAIN MIND.
sv MARY r. ELLIOTT.
[Copyright, 1909. by American Press Asso-
 ciation.1

cile were eating supper in their pretty cottage when there came a knock at the front door.
 "Cecile," said the mother, ''go and see who is there"
 Cecile opened the door and revealed the figure of a stranger standing with his back to the cottage. The girl wait ed for him to turn, but since he did not she coughed to attract his atten- tion. This failing, she said, Monsieur, what can do for youf" Since he still paid no attention to her, thinking him to be deaf. she touched him on the shoulder. Then he turned and looked her in the face. He was of small stature, and his countenance was intel lectual. He looked at the girl with a puzzled expression, but did not speak. The girl repeated her question.
 'I don't know" said the stranger at last.
 "well, come in. It is beginning to rain.''
 He entered the house and sat down by the fireplace, peering into the fire as one in a dream.
 Mime. Tourget looked at him im- patiently and was about to say some thing irritable when Cecile threw her a deprecatory glance. Then the latter said to the stranger:
 Have you supped, monsieurT
 The man, as if awakened from a dream, glanced up at her, smiled faintly-the girl thought 1t a very pleasant smile-turned his big eyes up- on the supper, arose and took seat by the table. Cecile served him, and he ate with the same preoccupied or, rather, somnabulistic air he had main- tained since his arrival. When he had finished Mime. Tourget questioned him.
 From where do you comeT
 'I started from R. this morning"
 "From B.? On footT
 "Yes. No. I believe had a horse"
 "You believe you had horseT
 A puzzled look passed over the stran- gers face. Then he arose and, going to the fireside, fell into the same dreamy condition as before. Cecile, beckoning her mother to follow her, left the room.
 q wonder it he is Ill or"- the girl began.
 ''Hs is either Q mental imbecile or is shamming in order to secure food and lodging. He may stay till morning, but no longer. We are too poor to take care of mental wrecks."
 "He is no impostor, mamma. am sure of that. Nor was he born men, tally weak. We must keep him till we can find out who he is and can turn him over to his friends" During the evening the mother sat by a table knitting, the stranger on one side of the fire. Cecile on the other. Now and again he would turn 1 his glance from the flames and look at Cecile, who, by the way, was very comedy. At o'clock Mime. Tourget asked him if he would like to go to bed. Not yet" was his reply. 'Tm thinking and haven't got through"
 Cecile gave her mother a glance that she would look after the poor man, and Mime. Tourget went to bed. The stranger sat for an hour peering into | the fire, occasionally stirring the coals with poker. Then suddenly he seemed to return to a normal con- dition. Cecile noticed the change and expected an explanation. Turning to her, he said:
 You're nice girl. Would you like to marry me?'
 Up to this time Cecile had hoped that after all the stranger might be of a healthy mental condition. Now she gave that up. He must certainly be insane. She realized the necessity of getting him to bed quietly To humor him she said:
 'I will consider your proposition and give you an answer in the morning l that is, if you will go to bed"
 She arose the stranger followed her, and she conducted him to his room.
 The next morning Cecile, looking from her bedroom window, saw the stranger walking in the yard. His abstraction seemed to have left him. At least 1t was not so pronounced. At breakfast he was new man. though his memory was evidently badly impaired. He remembered to have started from R. the morning before on horseback. but could not re- call what had become of his horse. Cecile, with a palpitating heart, won dered if he would remember having proposed to her. Since his remarkable recovery she secretly hoped that he would. He manifested no disposition to proceed on his journey and during the morning sat by the fireplace with something of his previous abstraction, but now he spent part of his time in making drawings in pencil on the backs of old letters he took from his pocket. Cecile spied upon them, but could make nothing out of them. They were neither figures nor landscapes Tn the afternoon while he was thus engaged q horseman rode up to the house in a hurry and asked If they had seen anything of man who was to have passed there the day before describing the stranger When taken to where he was sitting the new ar. rival seemed much relieved.