TWO REFLECTIONS.

Otago Witness, Issue 2745, 24 October 1906, Page 80

TWO REFLECTIONS.

Bt Chtu^ vSewv.ix. Louse Baurier stood before a small cracked mirror, her thin, neivous hands clasped very closely together, her anxious eyes fixed on their own reflection. * She was realising to the full the cruel fact that she was the most pathetic of all created thinge — a pl.iin woman. Ugliness confers distinction, and for that reason would have bepii ea-sier to bear ; but plainness — bah ! it is the curse of the evil one! She took a severe mental inventory of her features one by one — the anaemic complexion, the short nose, with its wide nostrils, the nondescript hair, and unattractive teeth. It was a heart-breaking task. A sudden frenzy possessed her — a passionate resentment against the fate that had marked 1 and set her apart for ever from the sweet joys of girlhood. She rai'ed her clenched band, and, smiting tho mirror with all her force, left a fracture like a star-fbh on. its surface. Then.

sh© walked across her poor sitting room and sat down dully before the small fire in the arm-chair that iiad once been her mother's.

Despair held her in its grim clutch. Envy of others more highly favoured than herself made her sick and ashamed ; for by nature she was not envious. Once her looks had scarcely troubled her at all ; true, she had' always known she was not beautiful, but the -good little mother (a blessed eaint now) had loved her just as well for that — better perhaps. And then a different kind of love had come into the life of Louis© — a humble yet triumphant adoration, — in the light of which slie realised with a sharp, unnatural vividness all her imperfections. Now she constantly contrasted herself with the other girls in the place of business where both she and the object of her worship were engaged. Marie Roix (who served in the same department as herself) could always attract men to her side. She had bright eyes, a mass of hair, and a vivacious manner. Then Clothilde Damaure possessed — how does one express it? — the sentimental air ; pale cheeks she had, it is true, but such delicate hands, and such expression ! Then Camille, Berthe, and Honoire all had th?ir special points, all could take their place in the feminine struggle for existence — and love ; only she, Louise, was a hopeless failure. Yet more than once Gustave had spoken kindly to her — looked at her almost tenderly, too. Bah, it was his good heart ! He was ever compassionate and courteous. Why should sallow cheeks and nondescript hair hold a man who could have cream and roses and burnished locks for the asking? Yes, without doubt, Gustave pitied her. Oh, the pain of it ! Unhappily, plain though she was, her capacity for love was im-nic-nse. For many nights now she uad not slept for thinking 'of it. Sobs rose and wonUl not be denied ; they racked her thin frame, and yet they brought relief, too, for in a few moments she had cried herself to an uneasy slumber — a slumber which sh© sadly needed. She awoke suddenly, feeling; — she knew not why — strangely comforted. An exhilaration as of undefined hope warmed her. Instinctively she got up, stretching herself almost luxuriously, and looked about her. She was quita conscious )f expecting to find something unusual in the room, yet nothing unusual presented itself. Stay ! — yes. What was that pushed away under a roll of serge? She had not observed it before, but it *ras an envelope, directed, as she soon perceived, in an unfamiliar hand. She picked it up, and, tearing it open, found it contained a short letter and a note for a hundred francs. Louiee uttered a little cry, and her face elione. Had heaven, indeed, opened, before her? Here was Providence answering her unspoken prayer. A hundred francs ! It seemed unlimited wealth. What would not a hundred francs do? With eyes that scarcely saw and a brain that scarcely realised 6he read the letter. It bore an unknown name, but came from a grateful customer — a lady of fashion who had lost a purse a few days before in the department of the emporium in which Louise served. Louis© had found the purse and had given it in at the bureau, «md, as such finds were not uncommon, had forgotten all about it. This was, then, th 3 reward of her honesty ! How often lately had 6he yearned for wealth ! — for wealth is all powerful. It can buy, in Paris at least, even good looks. There are salons — salons which Louise had often passed with reluctant steps and longing glances — salons in which the homely face can be changed and 1 the unlovely features transformed. To be beautiful ! Mon dieu ! could life hold a thought more delicious? To walk into the emporium with the assurance which, only a good appearance can bring! To attract Gustave's love — not his pity ! Ineffable rapture ! Truly there was not a moment to be lost. The day chanced to be a holiday owing to the interment of old Monsieur Souterre, the founder of the Emporium. Such holidays were rare. With a, beating heart Louise caught up the crisp paper, and, running downstairs, threaded her way quickly through a labyrinth of streets tiil she came to one of the" fashionable quarters of Paris. There was one beauty specialist whom she passed every morning on her way to work. His smart maisonette and luring advertisements had many a time filled her with futile longings. He professed to straighten the nose, add a roeo blush to the cheeks, and impart lustre to the hair. To this great man sho bent hsr steps. As she flew along, she seemed neither to see nor hear, she was conscious of nothing — the poor, ignorant Louise — save that tho road to good looks and the road also to Gustave lay open before her. Tlie smart maid who had acted as door-keeper to Monsieur Planchaid, mae.seur, manicurist, and beauty specialist, was not at fir^t inclined to admit the bom geoi«*e figure, but the ifiv] was so obviously in *uii&>t that she filially consented to do so. Louise received iho impression of \elvet loiin^fs, soft di aperies, and waving palms, and then Monsieur himself entered. Hf frightened 1 her to death, of couise, .so grand, 6O pom- ! pous was he. At first he wa« rude and patronising, but the sight of the money made him at once urbane. Curiously enough, to transform Louise would, he found, just cost a hundred fanes. "It is true that mademoiselle's complexion was far from clear, but. a complexion — youf ! that for a complexion ! Mademoiselle's eyes were Quite good, and her nose — would 1 mademoiselle allow him his own way with her nose? All! then they would see." And so in trembling rapture mademoiselle I submitted to many things — in her intense excitement she scarce knew what; such mouldings, pattingg, and sprinklings, and rubbing as made the poor girl quite giddy. After what might have been several hours or several weeks Monsieur bade her survey heraelf in a mirror. Monsieur >vas full of triumph and flourishes. Then for Louise Baurier cam© the culminating moment of ; life, when all existence, seemed uj>

into one sublime, glorious thrill of perfecf bliss.

For the second time that day she «a\»t her own reflection — but, ab! what a difference ! Now she could scaroely believe her eyes. No necessity to smite the mirror this time ; rathev-should she caress and fondle it. Instead of a miserable tftory iti tpld her a brilliant tale. Louise held her breath for very' ecstasy. What if tha hundred francs had melted into nothing — • the hun died francs that would have done so much In other ways? What if Monsieur had told her after his -labours that the results would only last a month, unless^ — another hundred francs could be found. She was beautiful at last — beautiful I beautiful! beautiful! A delicately-tinted 1 , brilliant creature — more radiant than Maria Roix, more epirituell© than Clothilda Damaure ! Oh f the bliss of it ! Louise stretched forth her hands to tho dearj kind looking-glass, laughing front sheer ha,ppiness. Ah ! but why did the looking-glass melt into a silver mist? Whydid Monsieur and his shrugging 'shoulders recede and grow small and stUl smaller? Where were the velvet chairs, the curtains, the palms which decked tlie maisonette of the beauty specialist? Gone — all gane! Louise started up with a sharp cry, anel looked wildly round about her. Her gaza fell upon a little table covered with a coarse cloth, a roll of serge, and a cracked mirror — and then she understood. She sat very very still ; the terrible weight of crashing disappointment made her feel numb and sick. To have raised the cup 4>f perfection to one's lips, only to feel it dashed away ! Ye saints, it was torture — a very refinement of cruelty ! Then, as she sat, clutching the arms of her chair, gazing straight before her with glazed, unseeing eyes, someone came- an<J laid a hand on her shoulder — someone who had come in silently, and stood smiling behind the chair at the awakening. The girl started up. ''Gustave!" she whispered, and a little dull colour came into her transparent cheeks. This, then, was to be the crowning pain of all. The young man came nearer. "Little one," he 6aid, "I had looked in to suggest a day at Versailles ; but I had not calculated on playing prince to a sleeping beauty." The girl' 6 quivering face grew wistful, her eyes sought his. "Ah, Gustave," she said, "do not mock me." "But you are beautiful," he persisted ten- • derly, "to me!" A glowing, transfigured look swept ov«r Louise's commonplace features, leaving them, calm and holy, and, in truth, almost handsome. "If I could but believe it!" she breathed. "And why not, mignonne?"' He was holding her closely now. "I love you, da you see, for the " gentleness of your soul and the sweetness of your nature, though 1 had not meant to tell you so till the stars came out to-night — and love makes everything beautiful." And, with her hand :n her lover's, foe the second time that day Louise wept.—* M.A.P.