The Birmingham age-herald., 1911-04-02
r U C l l. Y A A 1 ea-Aszs9s 1szge BY OVEN MEREDITH QopD n11oN l83l~1891 s' ASA zz$N=A


 tent where lay the stricken boy Of AL | fred vargrave and Matilda. The young sufferer felt her soft presence, and whom in the height of his fever she mur- mured "Sleepi" he slept and was re- | freshed. Old and worn and pale she looked. this Sister seraphine. Several days Sister Seraphine watched beside the bedside of the wounded youth, and in his frequent delirious fits she heard who he was and what had driven him to tho wars-or rather what had made him de- liberately hisk his life and receive the wound from which he was likely to die.
 The Duke de Luvois had never married | He had niece, Constance, and with that niece young Vargrave had fallen in love. When the Duke heard who 1t was that sought the hand of his niece in marriage | he had forbidden the union. '"The son ot a man who has deeply injured mo" was his thought, "ean never become the hus- band of Constance" He rather felt a secret satisfaction fin the thought that he could infict blow upon Alfred. Lu- ciIe learned all this from the rawlings of the youth and from his condolences bronzed French general sat in his tent He was gray of hair and mustaohe and no fiercer fighter was among the l allied forces. An orderly entered and announced that nun wished to speak with him-the Sister Seraphine. .T havs heard of her." said the general. 'she has been most active in good work among 1 our sick and wounded. Clear the tent; | Az 1,1ffa I stood once again before the Duke de Luvos. He looked the general. Glano- ing at her with & sudden surprise he turned away muttering to himself. Why do see that face again? Why is that old | fever dream not over? Iucile is long dead. why should the face of this nun recall her?'' "Sit, sister," said the gen. 1 eral 'I await your requests; you ara well known in the army; you have done much. What can I,do to show my ap-i preciation of it?"
 The pale, gray nun looked him in thsi face and said: Eugene de Luvois.' 'Lu-l l ciler he cried. ''Yes, she that was onca| Lucille. I am long dead to you and the world; but we speak now soul to soul,J Leave the past: I come to the present.
 
 and I am glad to say that since we last parted you have done many charit- able acts. Eugene de Luvois, do an- other" Steadfastly, slowly, she followed up the lives of both of them since they l had last met. And then she came to tho story of young Alfred Vargrave, the : wounded youth. Let him marry Con- stance" she said. '"rhe knowledge that you consent to his union with your niece will do more to restore him to health than any other thing" 'No!' cried the ! Duke Constance wed a vargrave? Never!"
 Eugene de Luvois," said the sister, but for you I might have been not a wandering nun pleading for the life of . the son of another, but mother-a wife. with children of my own. You made me hesitate in my youth to marry the man really loved. Out of the grim depths of the past I call my soul and lay 1t open to you. It was net Alfred Var , grave but you that I loved. Your own conduct forbade that I should wed you. When l saw Alfred's love for mo I saw your peridious actions there long years ago at Serchon and later at Ems, and I knew I never could be yours. Read this as you may, but, Eugene. the dead woman Lucille, whose grave is in me. calls upon you now to do your duty the work of God. The dead woman Lu- cile demands from her grave reparation. :" Hush" moaned the Duke, T obey the Sister Seraphine. Let this pay the debt due to the grave of our youth Now lead on." As he spoke he lifted the cur tain of the tent and pointed out to where the dark batteries and bastions drowned on the city that lay beneath them. There" said he, 'as soon as may be, let my weary heart and body find rest. Let the old tree go down to the earth the old tree with the worm at It's heart- Who will miss the old stump, so we save the young sprout? A yargrave! This pays all: lead on, Lucille, follow.'
 The Sister Seraphne and the general entered the tent of the wounded youth. Boy" said the Duke. "this, your guar dian angel, had brought me to you. am the Duke de Luvois. It is my niece. Constance, whom you wish to marry There there, take my consent and my blessing; I have too long kept you apart" "Oh, Duke" cried the youth, Y will live. I must live now" The Duke
 left the tent The moon had arisen, carried up through the fog of smoke; the horizon pulsed flame; the air sound ed The twilight was waning, He paused for moment, looking back at the nun watching by the side of the wounded boy. Then with bowed head, he went forth and night closed as he went
 
 Next weeks one-page classic will be Peg Woffington," by Charles Reade.
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