Year: 1863

endure to have her addressed by any one; and


the result was perpetual discord-she main


tanning herright to cheeaful conversation with


gentlemen who visited at the house, and he


forbidding her to say more than the coolest


etiquette permitted


His sister, Madame Marie Foyers, had be-


come widowed about the time of his marriage,


and he entreated her to take up her abode at


his house. His wife seemed charmed at the


proposal, and Welcomed her warmly She


was alady of strong Judgment, and she i'm


mediately saw that, although everything that


wealth could buy or affection suggest was


layished upon the wife, there was still q a


skeleton in the house." Both parties soon
| gave her their confidence; and, knowing her


brothers. peculiar foible, she represented to


him how unjust he was to young and art
i less creature like Marie.


] He was irritated, and his sister refused to
/ stay in his house any longer, feeling that she
could do no good and might harm the cause
she favored. That night she Intended to
canfide to her brother an affair which nearly
concerned herself She had become secretly
engaged to a gentleman who had buried his


wife several years before, and who had one
child son, VINO was now in India, where
the boys mother had died. The father wish
ed to be m arried before he went, and take his
bride with him; but this she had positively
declined. When her brother showed anger
at her, she refrained from telling him her Sc.
cret. Her lover, Monsieur de Roye, had al
ready sailed for India.


AT M. Foyers' house matters grew worse
and worse every day, until the alteration be-
came intolerable to both parties; yet neither
would yield. Marie went out more than ey-.
er, and grew more and more reckless of her
husbands opinions. When he came home
and found her absent, he was nervous and
dispirited, and when she at length returned,
he was unreasonable and irritated by her cool.
mode of receiving his reproaches. One day.
IN her absence, he entered her dressing-room,
and found letter addressed to Madame Ma
rie Foyers, which the maid had Just placed
there. 1t was in gentleman's hand writing
that it was directed; and, in a fit of passionate
Jealousy, he did what he would have been
ashamed to do another time-he opened the
letter. It was from India The language
was lover-like---nay, passionate. 1t bewailed
the writer's absence from one SO beloved, as
sured her of his undying attachment, and
spoke with rapturous fondess of reunion.


The last clause was especially unfortunate.
The question Does Monsieur Foyers sus-
pect our secret, think you?'' operated like an
electric shock upon the unhappy reader.


Forgetting that his sister bore the same
name as his wife, and not knowing that she
had lover in India his rage was all directed
toward the unconscious object of his jealousy.
Before he could summon courage to speak to
her, she was taken violently i'll, and a little
child was born. Day after day glided away,
in which he never entered her room, nor even
inquired for her health. Her mother came
and watched that lonely sick bed but tbs
poor woman herself amazed and alarmed at
the strange pass to which the household af-
fairs had arrived, was despondent and sadly
unfit for the sick chamber


When Madame La Tour descended to the
library, she found NJ Foyers awaiting her
with folded letter in his hand, which he
held toward her, and desired her to read. She
glanced at the superscription, and then Pc
'rused the missiye with heightened color and
hand that shook so violently that it was
with difficulty that she could read the words.
She finished reading, and then looked up at
NJ. Foyers, as if for explanation.


You see there, my dear madame" he said.
in reply to her questioning look, "the solu-
ton of M strange neglect of your daughter
since her confinement. found this in her
dressing room the day before. You can judge
what thought of it. and whether am like
ly to overlook it. The child will never
see. But its unhappy mother may be re-
claimed, and I shall bear her far from the
will devote my life to her reformation. 1t
will make me rejeiee if can bring her back
to the point from which she has SO terribly
diverged. I shall leave Marseilles, taking
her with me. To you, madame, entrust
the child. You shall have ample means to
do all that you would wish. If care and
watchfulness will restore your daughter to
the position she has lost, believe that it will
be no fault of mine that she is not cured.s


Poor Madame La Tour listened in dismay
to this speech. True, her daughter seemed
to have deserved her husbands wrath, and
the letter seemed to destroy what little hope
she might have had of her. But she was
her child-and what human heart. ever de-
spairs of its own?


81 can make you no reply" she said, in Z
voice in which sobs were mingled with the
words, ''until I have seen Marie. Perhaps
she can unravel this sad mystery"


"By no means speak to her now, madame 4
Her life would be the forfeit, if she were told
this in her present state of weakness. Leave
all to me. will do what is best for her, for
you, and the child. You shall know my in /
tentions before go. One thing I demand ]
only of your friendship, and that is to take
the child as yourown. am serious whenI I
say that will leave it with stranger, unless
you keep it. And on the faith of true man
as you know me to be, Ipromise to make no
use of the bitter knowledge have acquired,
wofully deceived me-"


What could he say more? Madame La
Tour bowed to the stern-looking necessity
that seemed to stare her in the face, and she
promised to do her best to the little worse
than orphaned child


r., 49,. :. =