The Birmingham age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1902-1950, 1924-12-21

QOWn In my IlCCle nome III henCucky. 1HlS
miniature of her mother my own mother
secreted about her person, for she dearly
loved it,"
She had unpinned the miniature and
passed it to Mrs. Marville who was regard
ing it admiringly.
IA beautiful face" she said as if almost
to herself and still she looked intently at
the picture.
After few moments she broke the 81
Ience with little hard laugh. Il was for
getting she said. Somehow this face takes
me back across the years. 1t makes me think
of Louisiana, too"
Amele took the pin and put it back in
the lace at her throat and still Mrs. Mar
vile looked at it.
"There is something in that face" and
she glanced from the miniature to the smil
ing face above it, land in your face, too,
Miss Trent, that reminds of another
face that used to think about great deal
1t. was the face of little Frenchwoman
also, and she, too, lived down in Louisiana
Ny son, won't you go upstairs and look in
the old leather trunk in the attic and bring
down that old writing-desk of mine?"
The professor went softly up the stairs
and was gone long, long time.
"Men are so helpless" finally came from
the mother. Miss Trent, would it be ask
ing too much of you to go and see if you
could help Charles OUT"
Amelie felt little embarrassed but she
expressed only pleasure, and when she was
nearly at the top of the stairs she called to
him.
'May come up? Your mother insisted
that l should. Can I be of any help to
you?"
The professor was on his knees before the
old leather trunk in the gray twilight of
the room.
ooh, yes, do come he said. II know
mother is impatient, but when l see these
old things l forget everything else. had
to stop and look at this old daugerreotype
of my father. 1t was taken while he was in
prison in Ohio" and he handed the faded
picture to her.
Amelie took it to the window and scanned
it by the fast fading light. She saw the
boyish face of soldier in which she fancied
she could trace something of the features of
looked with her into the youthful face of
the picture. Under his arm he held the old
writing desk-one that reminded Amelie of
another little old-fashioned one down in
Kentucky.
~ think I'll take that picture and this one
and this little note OUT" he said, whisper
ing "Mother is not strong and these things
sadden her. Back of all there is a little ro-
nance, a little love story, and to recall it
makes her sad for days She never talked
about it much but always knew that when
my father was soldier boy in a northern
prison he had sweetheart down in Louisi-
ana Believing her dead, he would not re-
turn south after the war. but in course OF
time he married my mother. 1t was some
years later that he learned that his little
French sweetheart was still alive and that
she, too, believing him dead, had married.
My mother knew the story and she always
kept with reverence and love these little
mementoes. But it took all of the joyous
ness out of her life and more than once,
when she has spoken of it, she has told me
that my fathers heart was with his little
French sweetheart down in Louisiana. He
was prince and a gentleman and so no one
ever knew except her."
Amehe took the other picture in her hand.
She reverentIy unfolded the yellow tissue
paper in which it was wrapped and looked
closely into the features
''Is the little note from herr" she asked
in low, trembling tones.
eyes," he said at is only few lines and
it is not especially personal" He opened the
yellow sheet, and as they bent their heads
together in the dying light of that autumn
evening she came to know that those lines
had been written by her own dear little
mother, whose pure sweet face looked at her
from the picture she held in her hand. She
pressed the faded note to her lips, and bend
ing down he saw that there were tears in
her eyes.
"What is it, what is the NATTER" he said
anxiously and very tenderly.
"Put them away" she said, "and let go
back to her. 1t is very, very strange-far