The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1909-05-26

SISTERS SACRIFICE

pretty girl, sitting in a most comfort
able little parlor, one side of which
was formed of a wide screen lined
with green silk, which divided it from
another portion of the room fitted up
as a jewelry store.
Marie and Jeanne were the daugh-
tiers of Pierre Galoubet, a diamond
jeweler, renowned more for his taste
and honesty than for his fortune or
his luxury. He was a widower with
two daughters.
Marie and Jeanne were the very
idols of his heart. Pierre had been a
soldier in his youth, like most French
men, and during his absence in AL
giers his wife had died. When he
came back a kind neighbcr took him
to her cottage, and leading him to a
cradle, showed him two little infants
sleeping side by side on the same pill
low. Pierre knew that in his absence
a child had been born to him, but he
had had no communication from
home for more than a year before his
return. He therefore turned from
the children to his neighbor with a
look of inquiry.
Are they both my children" said
he.
why, no." replied Jacquinette.
There's a whole history about them,
and, Pierre, as you are a clever man,
and have travelled all owe the world,
you perhaps will be able to settle a
point that has puzzled US ever since
the death of your wife"
What is it,"
"Why, which of these two is your
daughter?"
"Which?-why, who is the other?"
ooh, one day, about a month after
the birth of your child, when your
wife opened the cottage door in the
morning, she found on the threshold
one of these infants. She knew which
it was, but you know poor Nine.
Pierre died suddenly, and she
had time to tell me which daughter
was yours"
Again Pierre leaned over the ba-
bies, and as they opened their eyes
and smiled on him, Pierre felt as if
both were appealing to his heart, both
asking his protection.
From that hour Galoubet called
both children his, and Marie and
Jeanne, as he christened them, for
they had no name until his return,
became the idols of his life.
When they were grown up, Marie
and Jeanne, who both adored their
father, helped him in his business.
Marie kept the books, and Jeanne,
who had a great talent for drawing,
which had been cultivated, made the
drawings and designs for the setting
of the diamonds.
They were now both eighteen; at
least, knowing the age of one, Pierre
had always put them down as the
same age; their fathers strict hon
esty had prevented his making a for
tune, but, thanks to the management
Of Jeanne, they were in easy and COM
Portable circumstances.
OF late a cloud, however, had risen
on the household so full of the sunshine
Of affection. Jeanne had grown pen
sive, and even looked pale and thin,
receiving her fathers caresses with
Indifference, and sitting for hours,
pencil in hand, without drawing a
stroke. Now, on this evening, when
the. sisters were alone together,
Jeanne had pushed the paper from
her with disgust, and throwing down
her pencil, had declared her dissatis-
faction to her sister.
Jeanne" said Marie, looking up,
"you have never felt dissatisfaction
before, but you are unhappy, and you
will always be so until you confide
what troubles you to -our best
friends, your father and your sister,"
mot to my father; I dare not, but
to you, Marie. o sister, 1 am so
wretched!"
"Wretched:-why, what has hap
pened?"
MARIE" said Jeanne, sitting down
on a stool at her feet, listen, but do
not look at me. Some months ago,
you remember, I came home one Sun
day morning from church, where I
had gone with our servant, with a
sprained ankle"
eyes, I remember"
~Well, I had fallen-slipped off the
marble steps of the church, and
tainted from the pain. Well, as I
lay there, and the crowd began to
gather around me, a gentleman ad-
vanced, and putting aside those who
crowded yer me, lifted me up in his
arms. Preceded by his servants, who
made way for him, he carried me to
his carriage, and placing me in it,
asked our servant u address, and
drove me home. He was young,
handsome, and in manner so fascin-
ating as to have been able to dispense
with being either, Marie. The next
time I went out I met him. I have
seen him often since; he loves me;
l love him"
well, if he is an honest man, true
and sincere in his love, why should
you be unhappy? You know your
father will consent"
"He is the Due Octave de Blossac."
"The Due de Blossac, Jeanne?"
Eyes"
"But not an honest man, or he
would have dared to speak to
you of love"
He is an honest man, for when he