The Tabor independent. [volume] (Tabor, S.D.) 1913-19??, 1914-09-10
cHAPTER xxxIn-(continued) !.

q Mademoiselle sent a 1alr sneee u
paper with few unsteady scratches
across it, and sat down TO live over
night. hard business at times. But
Il was accomplished. The colonel had
Ridden to Norfolk for the day-had
Francois known OF that, one wonders
Lucy, waiting in that small stateLy
study with the dim portraits ana the
wide vague view acros the fields OF the
James river, heard the gay hoof beats
Of Aauarelle pound down the gravel
under the window, hear Francois deep
gentle voice as he gave the horse 20
Sambo, and waited one minutes more,
the hardest minute OF all. Then the
door had opened and he stood there
the miracle, as II seems at such mo-
ments to woman, possibly to man
II all the gifts and qualities worth low
ing.
The light on the thick bronzed hair
with its dramatic white lock, the dag
onal of fresh1color across the dark face,
the wonderful brilliant eyes. the strong
leanness OF bis hands-there was some-
thing In each detail, as the two gazed
at each other In a short silence, which
caught at Lucy's soul, That he was
short, a1d so unlike all the men she had
admired before. was somehow an added
charm. The compact light figure
seeffied worth 100 big hulks Of men,
The injured arm In its sling gave her
81 pang 81 tenderness, a thrill Of eag-
lerness to- do anything, everything for
him "A stumult OF these thoughts and
d thousand others beat about her as
Francois stood grave. alert. In the door
way. Then he had made his precise
bow, and she had hear his voice say
ing gently, Good morning, Madem-
oiselle," and the door was closed; and
they were alone together. In flash
she felt that ii could not be endured,
that aha must nornna EIa rosa hast
lily.
stay"
But Francisco had laughed and ia
ken her hand and was holding II with
a tender force which thrilled her. He
understood. She knew he understood
the shame and fear OF woman who
In his hands; she knew that. With a
sigh she left her fingers rest In his
and sat down again and waited.
Dear Mademoiselle Lucy" said the
deep kind voice, ''my first friend in
Virginia. my comrade. my little
scholar" H.#
why did Lucy grow cold and quiet
at these words Of gentleness? Francois
was sitting beside her. holding her
hand in both his, gazing at her with
the clearest affection in his look. Yet
she braced herself against she did not
know what. The voice went on with
its winning foreign infections, its slip
of English now and then, and its
never to- be- described power Of reach
ing the heart.
"See, Mademoiselle," said Francois,
1--WE are too real friends, you and ],
to have deception between US. We
win not pretend, you and ], to each
other--is IT not, Mademoiselle? There
fore l shall not try to hide from you
that / heard that day those words so
wonderful which you spoke to me so
unworthy. 1 have thought OF those
words ever. since, Mademoiselle, as
lay Ill with this troublesome arm; ever
since-all the time. My Eeart has
been full OF a qualification to you
which can not be told. shall remem-
Der all my life; shall be honored as
no king could honor me, by those
words And because you have so
touched me, and have so laid that little
hand on the heart of me, am going
scholar, what is most secret and most
sacred to me-"
Lucy's hand in his stiffened, but yet
she did not draw 1t away. Francois
had not begun the way lover begins
she felt that surely--but-it was
Francois. What faithfulness and
truth there was in any one answered
this man. In Lucy Hampton there
was much OF both; she left her hand
lying between the strong hands Of the
man who did not love her.
In as few words as might be, he
told her Of the peasant child who had
been lifted out of his poverty bound
life with such large kindness that no
bound which held him to that poor, yet
dear life had been broken; who had
been left all the love OF his first home
and yet been given home and train
Ing and an education which set him
ready for any career; he told OF the
big souled, blunt, Napoleonic officer,
the seigneur; OF the gray, red-roofed
castle, with its four round towers; OF
handsome silent Pietro, and Of the un-
failing long kindness OF them. Then
his voice lowered, holding the girls
hand still, he told her Of Alike, Of the
fairy child who had met him on that
day OF his first visit and had brought
him TO her father, the seigneur. He
described little the playmate OF his
childhood, fearless, boyish In her in
trepid courage, yet always exquisitely
q girl. He told OF the long summet
vacations Of the three as they grew up,
and the rides In the Jura valley, and Of
that last ride when he knew that he
was to go to Italy next morning, and
OF how he had faced the seigneur and
told him that he loved his, daughter
and had given her up then, instantly,
Tor loyalty to him and TO Pietro. And
then he told her Of the peasant boy in
Riders Hollow In the gray morning
light after the, night OF his escape
and how, by hand on the bride and
seat In the saddle, and at last by the
long curl OF the black lashes he had
known the peasant boy for Alike.
Lucy Hampton, listening, was so
thrilled with this romance Of life
long love that she could silence her
aching heart and her aching pride and
could be-with painful sick effort
but yet could be. utterly generous.
There Is no midway in such case be-
tween entire selfiehness and entire
unselfishnese. The young southern girl
wounded, shamed. cruelty hurt In
vanity and In love. was able TO choose
the larger way, and taking II, left that
sharp Joy OF remuneration which - as
keen and difficult TO breathe and 90
sweet In the breathing nc the air OF o
mountain-top Trembling. she put her
little hand on Francois hands.
Il Eee," she said, and her voice shook
a..