Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1920-06-20
Translated from the French by
William l.. McPherSon.

81 a s'@s.s that I get there in
Mile. Estelle Blanchard was
consumed with impatience
She was on her way from Paris to
Lagny 1t seemed to her that the
locomotive was only crawling. She
mad never realized that there were
SO many way stations on the route
Yet she used to make the trip al
twenty years ago, at least. She
Kept saying to herself:
Mon Dieu, Mon Dieu, How far it
is! hope that l get there before he
dies.'
Her brain was in a tumult. That
morning while she was boiling her
cup of enthusiastically diluted
with water. for economys sake-she
had received this laconic message:
Francis wants to see you. Come
quickly. Leon"
IN the train she read and reread
ee last sentence of the telegram:
vCome quickly
Poor Francis" she mumbled. 1T
LAO 10 happen some time.
She was aStoniShed she could take
II so calmly. But she reasoned the
thing out
After all, Francis always lived like
q bear. like misery savage. But
when death comes everything must
De forgotten. The past doesn't count
any longer
The past, The past Este1le re-
called it as the train rumbled along.
Francis was rich. He had always
been. having inherited his money from
his father, a merchant, who didn't wish
nis son to be d business man, or a
physician, or a lawyer or d soldier. His
youth was passed in the emptiness of
unoccupied days and vacant evenings.
He hunted d little and disspated lit
tie AT thirty he was left alone in the
world, with a liberal income and no pro-
>specuve heirs except two nephews, from
>wnom he had been eStranged by long
standing family differences.
He settled down in the old family
mansion in Lagny and took root there
He had a. passion for fishing. Every
evening he went to play cards in the
cafe at the railroad station with the
railroad employees, travelling statesmen or
even the cafe walters. At o'clock he
returned home and dined with Estelle
blanchard and Leon, the gardener Then
ne yawned, petted the dogs and went
peacefully to bed.
Estelle was a legacy from his mother
she was successfully maid. seamstress
and housekeeper. She was of the same
age as Francis and had grown up with
him. But nothing had ever drawn to-
gether these two unsympathetic natures
the one, though a woman, without
iemininity or softness the other boor-
1sh. heavy and altogether commonplace
For many years EsteIle had man
lnf
1ect of economy. she had gone to Paris
regularly to make her more important
purchases On these trips she had ac-
Quired a confidence of manner and
certain dubious elegance on which she
counted much for the realization of
her pet project, which was to become
mistress of the house in which she
was only a servant.
All her strategy was in vain. Her
employer had never accorded her the
charity of a look or the compliment of
a thought. He was proof against any
sentiment whatever. He never felt
the least impulse of pity, or gayety, or
adventure. or love. Estelle was ex-
aSperated to such a point that one day
she left him to go to live in Paris. He
paid her off and said: Il wish you
luck" as he kissed her goodbye
She had never seen him SINCE For
a long time she expected a letter ask
ing her to come back. She counted son
the force of habit, on the sudden dis
turbance of a mathematica1lyS ordered
existence, on family memories on the
thousand of 1ittlethings which attach
people who. without loving, at least
tolerate each other. But Francis
never wrote. She knew. however, that
he was still leading the same life, be-
cause she occasionally dropped In on
some of the provision men In Paris
with whom he dealt and asked them
far cautionS nneStioQS-
She said to herself: ~ T.
Il shall be curious to see whether
sickness and death have, changed
him"
familiar house she had a creepy feel-
ing. She thought OF the sort OF ges-
ture which she ought to make in
sprinlling the body with holy water,
if such rite were still necessary. !.
She rang the bell, and was dunn
@ah It's you. EsteIis. II was wait.
ling for you"
He said this as if he had seen her
the night before. 49, q
Still dazed. the housekeeper sought to.
compose herself and to strike proper
attitude.
But he totally ignored her surprise.
Come in. T want to talk to you
about something"
; He walked ahead of her. She found
him very little changed He was the
same heavy. hard-grained man. His
face, bronzed by outdoor life. was set
off by a tangled gray beard. His hair
struggled down from under hunting
cap. But his eyes were the same as
overheard and ieering.
Merely for the sake Of saying
something she asked:
rs Leon still with you, Francis?"
He answered gruff1y:
you ought to know, since he sent
you the telegram"
He made her sit down in the garden,
under an arbor. at a table on which
there were a bottle Of white wine and
two glasses.
will YOU have a glass?''
She declined tremendously.
THANK you, Francis But 1 never
drink wine in the morning"
He poured himself a bumper drank
it, coughed and said, looking down at
his dirty wooden sabots:
"If l have asked you to come you
can we'll imagine that / have some
thing serious to discuss with you. You
are a woman of good judgment You
know me. and if you aren't any longer
here it is because you preferred to go
elsewhere"
She started to protest But Fran
els cut her short
IT know what I am saying. You
wanted to go. l didn't try to keep you.
But, repeat you are woman of good
. Judgment Now. / need some ADVICE,
because I am afraid of making mis-
take. This is the situation: ] am old.
am rich Leon is growing deaf and
I am dreadfulIy lonesome So / am
thinking of getting married. What do
you think about it,
Estelie answered:
IT think you are foolish Getting
Married, At your age. l see what
the trouble. Some young girl or some
widow has her eyes on your money. You