Cheyenne record., 1915-11-11

OtnerW1So Sn0 WOu1o never naVo Iot
Sabron go without one sign that she
was not Indifferent to him, and that
she was rather bored with the idea
of titles and fortunes. But she adored
her aunt and saw, moreover, some
thing else than ribbons and velvets In
the makeup of the aunt. She saw
deeper than the polish that long
Partisan lifetime had overlaid. and
she loved what she saw. She respected
her aunt, and knowing the older lady's
point Of view, had been timid and hesi-
tating until now.
Now the American girl woke up, or
rather asserted herself.
"My dear JULIA" said the Marquise
d'Esclignac, "are you sure that all the
timed things, the cocoa. and so forth.
are on board? did not see that box"
ma tante." returned her niece from
her steamer chair. "its the only piece
of luggage am sure about"
At this response her aunt suffered
slight qualm for the fate of the rest of
her luggage, and from her own chair
in the shady part Of the deck glanced
toward her niece, whose eyes were on
her book.
What a practical girl she is"
thought the Marquis, dEsclignac
"She seems ten years older than l.
She is cut out to be the wife Of poor
man. 1t is pity she should have
fortune. Julia would have been charm
ing as love in cottage. whereas
She remembered her hotel on the
Pare Monceau, her chateau by the
Rhone, her villa at Biarritz-and
sighed. She had not always been the
Marquise d'Esclignac; she had been
an American girl first and remembered
that her maiden name had been De
Puyster and that she had come from
Schenectady originally. But for many
years she had forgotten these things.
Near to Julia Redmond these last few
weeks all but courage and simplicity
had seemed to have tarnish on its
| wings.
Sabron had not been found
1t was a curious fact, and one that
transpires now and then in the history
of desert wars-the man is lost. The
captain of the cavalry was missing,
and the only news of him was that he
had fallen in an engagement and that
his body had never been recovered.
Several sorties had been made to find
him., the war department had done all
that it could; he had disappeared from
the face of the desert and even his
bones could not be found.
From the moment that Julia Red
mond had confessed her love for the
Frenchman, a courage had been born
in her which never faltered, and her
aunt seemed to have been infected by
it. The marquise grew sentimental,
impressionable than she had believed
herself to be, and the veneer and eti-
quette (no doubt never a very real
part of her) became less important
than other things. During the last
few weeks she had been more a De
Puyster from Schenectady than the
Marquise d'Esclignac
ma tante," Julia Redmond had
said to her when the last telegram
was brought in to the Chateau dEscli-
gnac, Il shall leave for Africa tomor.
row."
my dear Julia!"
"He is alive! God will not let him
die. Besides, have prayed. l believe
in God, don't you?"
OF course, my dear Julia
WELL" said the girl, whose pale
cheeks and trembling hands that held
the telegram made sincere impress
sion on her aunt, well, then, if you
believe. why do you doubt that he is
alive? Someone must find him. Will
you tell Eugene to have the motor
here in an hour? The boat sails to-
morrow, ma tante"
The marquise rolled her embroidery
and put it aside for twelve months
Her fine hands looked capable as she
did SO.
my dear Julia, a young and hand
some woman cannot follow like a
daughter of the regiment. after the
fortunes o. soldier"
But a Red Cross nurse can. ma
tante. and have my diploma"