Evening star., 1911-10-22

Hc Olu lduy pdlc CHECKS uIUeI
st. HOnore's compliments.
Il always think, went on the poet in a
low tone, watching the busy needle dart to
and fro, "that the most beautiful hands are
those of our mothers, who have used them
in Our service through toiling years. All!
what tales those fingers might tell"
Madame Desroches bent her head lower.
Bonnet stirred uneasily in his chair and
darted furtive glance at St. Honore.
II think you must have been good son."
said Madame Desroches in quivering
voice.
Bonnet put up hand to his throat.
feeling:
AS at thy portals also death.
Entering thy sovereign. dim, illimitabe grounds,
To memories of my mother, to the divine
blending. maternity,
10 her, buried and gone, yet buried not, gone
not -tom me,
Il 6, 1gain the calm benignant face, fresh
anu beautiful still.
l kiss and kiss convulsvely again the sweet
old lips, the cheeks, the closed eyes, -
To her, the ideal woman. practical. spiritual.
of all earth life. love. to me the best.
l grave a monumental line, before 1 go, amid
these songs.
And set a tombstone here!
Bonnet pushed back his chair, as if the
heat was too much for him.
"Those are your lines, Monsieur" asked
Madame Desroches.
"No; of a far greater than |. beg your
pardon; | have touched some tender chord.
A tear rolled down the worn cheek and
splashed on the blouse.
At that moment d'Ormonde cried out,
"Hark!"
EVERYBODY stopped talking. Dago-
- bert lifted his heavy eyelids. The wind
was getting up, and the enormous beech was
making a sound like surf upon a shingly
shore.
Il heard a scream, said the author, "a
horrible scream!"
He got up and went to the window. The
wind was blowing the cumulous clouds into
shreds and hustling them over the horizon
and almost in the zenith full moon spread
its glittering disk, pouring wan silver flood
upon the country. And against the pale sky,
northward, rose the gigantic spire of the
Church of the Crucifix, visible from octa-
gonal base to its needlelike point, and orna-
mented with stone crockets.
D'Ormonde resumed his seat. Evidently
his ears had deceived him. But he seemed
uneasy.
Madame Desroches was silent for awhile,
and then she said, without looking up, "Mon-
the war;
"Antoine Desroches? No. What is his
regiment?'
Il cannot tell you. He went away sud-
denly, and left me note saying that he was
going to seek death in fighting the Germans"
"Let us hope he will come through un-
Scathed, said St. HonorG.
Madame Desroches suddenly looked her
companion full in the face. She seemed to
be asking herself if she could trust him.
"He will never come back" she said in low
| voice, resuming her work. Monsieur,
sometimes, before l 60 to sleep at night,
pray that he may die gloriously; and then l
will wake and fall upon my knees and plead
that, after all, he may be spared"
Bonnet drew a hand across his forehead
and held it there.
"In any case he will show himself worthy
of you," murmured St. Honore. 81 expect
that he joined one of the free companies.
"But he certainly is alive, as yet whis-
pered Madame Desroches. at is singular
and frightful thing with Our family, Mon
sieur, that whenever one dies he makes it
known, by voice or appearance, to him or
her who loves him dearest. Do you believe
me?"
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