Evening star., 1918-09-08
TRANSLATED BY
WILLIAM l.. MCPHERSON

Ss~~~@-~.~'~ ~A~A
TIME exquisite wave of the black
hair. the profoundly dreamy ex-
" i preston of the green eyes. the
sadness Of the smile poised on
the rosy lips-that portrait. that por-
trait which Mathilde would have liked
to seize. to crush to pieces and to
annihilate! It was without doubt, an
altogether too exact likeness Of that
womanl In her own heated imagina-
tion It became that woman herself,
that Genevieve. re-embodied. There
alongside the portrait of her husband,
recalling by her proximity to him
their ideal love Of days gone by.
'Her husband! My husbands" Ma
thilde repeated, with burning SEN
sation about her heart. All! How she
suffered now! How she regretted
having consented to this marriage!
When Lieut.. Richard Maleterre, on
leaving the hospital, had asked her
hand, thanking her for the kind
nesses she had shown him as a nurse,
she had wondered, quite carried away,
how Heaven, in the midst Of this hor-
rible war; could have suddenly sent
her SO much happiness.
And when he had added: II must
tell you everything. I loved another
I am a widower," Mathilde, for a
moment Jealous, had been quickly re-
assured, believing that she would
easily triumph over a rival who had
disappeared.
She had evoked, with feeling Of
box returning slowly to dust and
Of q soul vanished forever into the
depths of mystery. -
But now Richard, wounded again
and on a convalescents leave, had
expressed a desire to pass his months
les-Pi4s, where he had formerly
spent his winters. And he had asked
Mathilde, when she went to open and
air the house. not to disturb any object
In the little boudoir; for he wished, he
said. to respect the scheme Of interior
decoration which his first wife had
worked out with her own hands and to
find the atmosphere which she had
given the room still intact.
:. Tho atmosphere still intact! Yes.
the perfume remained which Genevieve
round table was marked with rose
colored ribbon at the page, no doubt,
where she had stopped reading. In
believed she heard beautiful gown
Of violet satin, like the one which
shimmered in the portrait, rustic over
the thick. pale carpet.
dead wife recalled to life, whom
Richard wanted to find here? For his
memories, precise and vivid, would
seat her in every chair, would replace
her light fingers on every key Of the
closed piano. would bring her back as
she was, bantering or silent, vivacious
or sober. Yes. Richard would see
Genevieve, the vanished, more than he
would see her; because she was alive
and changeful as life, which time
transforms from instant to instant.
while the other would stand before
him in immutable images, in definite
postures. which death had made i'm
mortal.
A bell rings. Footsteps crunch on
the gravel of the path through the
garden. The front door is opened. A
servant enters and presents a letter
addressed to Nine. Maleterre. Ma.
thilde opens 1t mechanically, absorb
ed in her thoughts. She reads 1t with.
out understanding it:
''Genevieve, l am hereafter sc
many months. / have como from
Salonilki. l am at the hotel. await
Geuevieve! Then she is alive again
Some one writes to her! Some one
still loves her! The eyes of the por:
trait take on a strange expression OF