TOO MUCH ALIKE A PARISIAN’S ROMANCE

New Zealand Graphic, 6 April 1907, Page 21

TOO MUCH ALIKE A PARISIAN’S ROMANCE

THERE is a moment of the year when Paris becomes insupportable. when the •'st fervent adorer of the boulevard asphalt sings as he thinks of a country lane.”

murmured Maurice Langier one summer night as he tossed about, vainly seeking sleep. It was toward the end of June; the eity was like a iierv furnace. Mauriee Tangier, hardened Parisian, loving travel as cats love water, when day broke took an heroic measure. He rose and summoned Iris domestic.

“Pack my trunk!” he said as Claude half opened the door.

“Monsieur is lucky to be able to get out of the city,” sighed the man.

A few hours later Mauriee was at the railway station taking a ticket for Montmorency. That was far enough. As he journeyed he suddenly felt a great love for the country, admired everything—the doors that stuck, refusturesque cottages draped with vines, fie vowed he would study nature, he would haunt the woods and meadows, out never go near Enghien, which is rme Paris itself for gaiety. At Montmorency all the best houses were full; he had to take a rather shabby room on a ground floor. But thanks to his good humour he felt amused with eevrything—the doors that stcuk, refusing to stay either open or shut, the funny, red-tiled floors which rang under the wooden shoes of his hostess like the pavement of a church, the bouquets of paper flowers on the cbimney-pieee, the Manger at Bethlehem represented in yellow wax, all interested and pleased him. Even the mirror, bordered with false mahogany, which exaggerated his agreeable features into something quite extravagant and dolorous. This infidelity of the mirror made him laugh so that he fell into an armchair of yellow velvet, moth-eaten and surprisingly hard. He went walking, admired the flowering hedges and listened in raptures to a finch which he took to be a nightingale. A goat tethered to a. post held him a quarter of an hour at gaze. He wandered about the little paths and vowed ho could live there for ever.

But he was mistaken. These felicities arc soon over. After a few days of enthusiasm Mauriee concluded that nature was monotonous and turned melancholyeyes toward Enghien. “ I feel like hearing a little music,” he said, by way of excusing himself. So he dressed carefully, lit a cigar, and sorted. It was very warm; the glaring white sand reflected the sun’s rays, and seemed to double their intensity. Mauriee walked slowly along the highroad, looking carelessly at the passers. He met children on donkeys which a driver goaded with his eiue] prod; some little white-veiled girls passed on their way to confirmation. When he reached the station he saw’ a young girl whose beauty struck him as remarkable; she was accompanied by a, maid, who carried a large basket. “Why, she is charming!” he thought as he turned for another look at her: “ She embodies my vague drcams of feminine perfection. Can it be possible that thus, at the turning of a road, when such a tought is furthest from my mind, destiny brings us face to face with our ideal? Has the moment arrived which shall decide my future life? Is this the woman I shall love?” After an instant’s hesitation he turned. “ Decidedly,” he said, “ I won’t go to Enghien,” And he walked Blowfly behind the young lady and studied her costume.

She wore a mauve dress of some soft material and a hat trimmed with daisies; the long ends of n scarf drawn over her breast were carelessly tied behind, and

the garland around her hat fell over one shoulder.

“ Is she a young girl or a young married woman?’ wondered Maurice. “ She looks almost a child, but the maid and the big basket alarm me. They denote a housekeeper.” This troubled him until to some question he heard the servant reply: “Yes, Mademoiselle Juliette.”

“ A pretty name,” he thought. When she reached the market-place at Montmorency, Mlle. .Juliette went from stall to stall buying all sorts of things, and having them put in the basket. Not daring to follow her too closely, Maurice placed himself at an angle so as to keep her in sight. When her purchases were completed they went back to the highroad. The maid deposited the heavy basket on the ground and both stood looking the. opposite way from Enghien, as though they awaited the arrival of someone or something. Maui ice guessed that they were watching for a stage or omnibus which ran between the neighbouring towns. Presently’ the (vehicle approached in a eloud of dnst, with the cracking of a whip and a merry’ jingle of bells. Maurice hurried toward it with Maehiavelistic cunning and scrambled in like an impatient traveller, thinking the while:

“ Decidedly, I am going to Enghien.’ As he had foreseen, the young lady stopped the omnibus and got in. Mauriee could now get a good look at her, for she was seated opposite to him and had drawn up her - veil. Her pretty’ face, animated by’ her shopping and rosy from her walking, had a joyousness quite full of charm. Her complexion was clear and fresh, her blue eyes candid as a. child’s, her nose well formed though rather wide in the nostrils and her mouth had a little tilt in the upper lip which was very attractive. As for her hair, wheat, threads of gold, sunbeams, occurred to the enthusiastic young fellow already almost in love, and were rejected as unworthy to compare with it. Truly’ this was the realisation of his dream, his ideal. When she turned her profile he could see that the peculiar raising of the lip was acentuated, and gave a pouting expression whch he found unusual and fascinating. The girl looked out of the window at the passing scene, but several times caught Maurice’s eye, quickly’ turning away with an imperceptible smile. The young man, ashamed of being caught staring, directed his attention to the landscape, during which time she examined him furtively.

The distance between Montmorency and Enghien is not long. The stage soon stopped. Mauriee jumped out. and offered his hand to Mlle. Juliette to assist her descent. She blushed and smiled as she thanked him, ran across the street to a house into which, when the woman with the basket joined her, :he disappeared.

Mauriee felt surprised at the solitude and sadness he felt on her departure. During the brief instants he had passed with her in the omnibus he had been so happy’ and content. And now a painful contraction of his heart held him motionless while he stared eagerly at the closed door.

“What’s the matter with me?” he wondered.

The people passing began to notice him. He walked on, took a boat and made a tour of the lake, dined at Enghien, and returned to Montmorency’ as though in a dream. He found himself seated in his yellow armchair without knowing how ho got there. The next morning as soon as he had breakfasted he went to Enghien and hovered about the house where Juliette lived. This- house was situated at the

angle of the principal street of Enghien, and the one which followed the railway. On the railway side was a large garden belonging to the house, and Mauriee found he could see very well through the fence.

After some time of watching, his patience was rewarded. Dressed in a white morning gown, Juliette slowly descended the steps, walked across the lawn, and sat down in a swing which hung from a tall tree. There she remained for a while, apparently lost in thought, then rising she walked about the garden while Maurice, his heart beat ing wildly’, watched her with increasing admiration. She passed before him as indifferently as though she did not see him and went back to the house. He could have stayed there forever gazing at her dress trailing over the gravel. How quiet and gentle her-motions were! He had never seen anyone walk so gracefully; her hair was lovely, done up so carelessly, and her smile, half melancholy, had a strange fascination.

l*or the rest of the day Mauriee thought of nothing else. lie reeapitulated, discussed, dialogued, monologued, and the next day’ found himself again looking over the fence. This time Juliette was armed with a pair of big scissors and occupied in cutting flowers, which she put into a basket on a bench near where Mauriee was standing.

He soon perceived that she knew’ he was there, for she turned her head once or twice, looking surprised and uneasy. "I am really outrageous—unpardonably indiscreet,” thought Mauriee, scold ing himself without budging. Still, it seemed to hint that the young lady lingered about the bench and was rather slow’ in arranging the flowers in her basket, while on the contrary, when she went to cut them on the farther side of the garden she did so quickly and came back in a hurry. And then, Mlle. Juliette, holding a branch of rose laurel all fresh and covered with dew, stopped and looked steadily at Maurice. The unhappy man, believing he read his doom in her eyes, was ready to fall ou his knees and bog her grace, when suddenly she tossed the flowery spray at hint and vanished. He passed abruptly from despair to joy. Quivering with pleasure, he deftly caught the branch and kissed it. .Baek in his own room he faced the situation. "Decidedly, I am in love,” he said. “It is a fact admitted. Can 1 tear this love from my heart? I think not. Ye*. —all this means marriage, my dear fellow,” and he made a comic gesture of dismay. He resolved to introduce himself to Mlle. Juliette on the following day. When he reached the garden she was seated on a bench with her back turned toward the street. He was admiring her beautiful hair, negligently’ arranged so as to display’ her white neck, when some one called: “Juliette!” For an instant he fancied he had spoken unconsciously, and then a girl in a white eashntere wrapper came down the steps and crossed the lawn. Maurice looked at her angrily, annoyed that she should lie dressed like his beloved. “This must be her sister,” he mused. “The singular colour of the hair is the same ami the general resemblance is startling. Yet what a difference, too! The little peculiarity’ of the upper lip, so pretty in the one, becomes a grimace in the other. Juliette’s nostrils are rather large, her sister’s are flaring, and the roses on the cheeks of one become red apples on the cheeks of the other, the inyosotis of the eyes changes to blue china.”

tome in to lime'*; we are waiting,' said the newcomer. “She has Juliette’s voice, but not so sweet,” thought Mauriee. He watched them as they walked away, observing that Juliette’s dr.— fell more gracefully than that of her sister; yet at a little distance he could not distinguish one from the other. During that day and many following he thought about Juliette, but these dreams were troubled by the image of her sister, which blurred his memory, and the grimace came to his mind when he tried to recall the peculiar fascination of his charmer’s smile. Still tailing deeper and more deeply in love, he searched about for some means to meet Juliette where they’ might, converse. I'm a long time l.e sought hr vain, and then one even ing he suddenly remembered the Casino where the be-t. people met ami where there was a. hand amt darn ing every night. Young people love to dance; she would surely be there. He instantly donned his evening attire ami took the train for Enghien. He Was too early-, of course; tire rooms were empty hut. lor two or three eldcrlv men who were reading the papers; so he went out and strolled by the lake; the moon rose glittered over tire water*, making the scene misty and unreal, while the swans like enchanted creatures, silent and snowy, floated about in the vaporous light. .Maurice, delighted. felt himself a poet. When he returned to the dra wing-room* they had begun to fill, bitt Juliette was not there. Maurice was growing discouraged when someone said: “Here come Madame and Mesdwnoiselles Manivaux.” “Munivaux! What a hideous name!” thought Mauriee, and turning he beheld his adored one with her mother and sister. They advanced slowly, returning right ami left the salutations which greeted their entranee. Maurice blessed his good star for having inspired him to eome to the ball. When they were seated he looked al tentively at Juliette's mother, trying to read on her fave whether her heart was hard or tender, and what would lie his chances to soften it. During this examination he suffered a painful shock due to his nervous, impressionable nature*, on Mme. Manivaux’s fave he saw Juliette’s features faded, aged, altered by unrelenting time. "And that is how she will look some day!” he thought with terror. Shaking off these morbid thoughts with an effort he went to invite Juliette lor a valse. She accepted modestly, but. with a half-smile of recognition. They whirled avva.y, Mauriee trembling with happiness so that during tin* first half of the valse he felt too overcome io say a word; he feared his first speech might he too commonplace or too ardent. It seemed so wonderful that this lovely girl whom he bad admired from afar should now be in his arms, lie breathed the perfume of hair and fe.lt the beating of her heart, At last, tearing she might wonder over his silence he bethought him of the branch of rose laurel. “1 wish Io thank you, mademoiselle.” he said: “that is why I came here tonight. 1 hoped I might meet you.” “For what have you to thank me. monsieur?” asked Juliette, raising her blue eyes to his. “For the lovely flower you gave me yesterday, which made me so hippy.” *T gave you a flower?” she queried sweetly. “Oh, yes. 1 threw you something.” “As one throws un alms to a suppliant ?” “No; as one throws a stone at an in-

discreet |»er3on whom one wtehei to drive away.” “I suspected you were cruel.” said Klan ric e, “from the conformation of yqur lips. And so 1 am not to stare at you any more across the fence*”

monsieur/* aaitl Juliette laughing,’“l was patient* for a week, but .Julie began.to notice, you ” •Julie?” “My sister/’, , f “What a deplorable idea to call her Julie.” thought Maurice.

“I told her to excuse you.” resumed Juliette, “that you must be a neighbour since I batt seen you in the omnibus and yuu had got out when I did.” “How kind of you to remcmlier our first meeting.’* “It was a Thursday,” she said; “my day for going to market.” The music ceased, the valsc was ended. Maurice took Juliette back to her place; he was very amiable to her mother and offered his'arm to Julie for the next dance. •It is strange.” he reflected. as they danced, “when I don’t see Juliette ; it seems (o me that Julie is exactly like her: and yet this one is almost ugly vvith that queer grimace which draws up her lip. She has the same perfume in her hair, too, but she has put on too much. Suave and delicate in Juliette’s curls, it now strikes mo as too strong, almost vulgar.’’ “I had the honor of meeting in<idemoiselle your sister in the omnibus/’ J'c remarked for something to say. “Yes. monsieur, she told me about it; it was her day forgoing to market.” “The same words!” thought Maurice,” yet Juliette is not devoid of wit,” “Monday is my day for going to market,” said Julie. “If it had been on a Monday you would have met me.” Maurice wished to say something complimentary. but found himself stammering nonsense. Fortunately, the music stopped, and he did not need to finish his phrase. The evening wore on and drew to its close. When Mme. Manivaux got up to go Maurice helped them to find their wraps and went out with them. “You are not afraid to come and go, three ladies alone?” ,he a?ked.' “I‘eri?iit nie to'escort you.” ? • “There is no danger al till, monsieur,” replied Yihie. Manivaux. bowing ami .std Fling “but since are kind enough to- offer yoUr cfHupaiiy we sluvlb be most? pleased to accept it.” ' ’ ,!l Maurice walked besid? the mol her and devoted himself to" her exclusively.' ■** Monsieur.” she said as they readied the house, “1. hear that you are dur neighbour and I hope you will call. We ai<‘ always al home on Thursday. “I Shall have the honor of calling on next Thursday,” he replied, thinking meanwhile: “This lady has the delightful manner of all mothers who have daughters to marry.” When lie lay down to sleep that night In* thought: “1 would love Juliette more if her nostrils were not so. wide and if her upper lip had not that tilt—it is a defect." Then “dunce that I am!” he cried, slapping his forehead. “I believe 1 am thinking of her sister!” <hi the following Thursday ho rang Mme. Manivaux.'.* hell. “Madame is dressing.*’ said the maid; •’but the young ladies arc in the garden.” As she spoke she opened tlm side door, which gave on the lawn. Maurice saw the two girls seated by a rustic table. They were embroidering; near them stood a little gill about 13 whose back was Inward Maurice. AH three were dressed alike. Another sister! Maurice advanced. Juliette smiled at him. Julie bowed, the little girl turned and stared. He perceived with annoyance that the peculiarity of the lip was in her almost, a deformity. “Lili, oiler monsieur a chair.” said Julie. “|)<» you feel sick?” asked Juliette. “You turned so pale just now.” Maurice was pale; he felt irritated

and low-spirited. “What an ill-natured, fellow 1 must be,” he thought. “\Vhat does it matter to fac if Juliette’s sisters are ugly; it is her I want to marry. They look like her and it provokes, me as though I saw bad replicas of a statue. It is not her fault if what is the charm of her face appears as a defect in the faces of her sisters. I feel like wishing her bright hair, were black because their bright hair is just like hers; I don’t like her dress because theirs is the same, and they don’t look well in it. I came near Hying into a rage because her mother is no longer twenty years old and at twenty was maybe even prettier than Juliette. I am foolish and unreasonable. This girl’s affection may yet be mine; I already love her, and here I am- spoiling, my chances of happiness by this stupid irritation.” lie tried to conquer his nervousness and make himself agreeable.- ‘ You embrioder like fairies, mesdemoisellles,” he said, lifting a corner of Juliette’s tap-

“Vvu are interested in needlework?’’ she asked, smiling. “It is an arm chair,” said Julie. “Juliette is doing the back. 1 the seat. The back is the most, complicated.” ‘.‘l am doing the arms,” put in Lili, spreading out her work on the table. “f would lose my way in all those stitches and different coloured silks,” he said pleasantly while despair gripped his soul. “It might not matter much.” said Juliette. “It is not nearly so difficult as it appears," observed Julie. “I'll teach yon if you want to learn,” volunteered Uli. Maurice locked at Juliette’s handsand face and felt calmer.; they were white and pretty; one slender finger was circled by a ring set with an emerald. “If she would give me that I would wear it on my little finger.” he thought. “No: I would hang it around my neck and kiss it before going to sleep.” But on looking at Julie's hand lie caught the sparkle of a similar ring, lie tinned to look at Lili’s hands; she also wore an emerald, lie no longer wished for Juliette’s ring. As’they chatted on, his gaze wandered to the swing where he had seen Juliette silting the first, time be had stood looking over the fence, then toward the bench where she bad set her basket of ilowers; he recalled how his heart beat when she passed before him, the- wild joy he felt when she tossed him the branch of rose laurel; he remembered his projects, his dreams, his hopes; then looking at Juliette, ho .was angry with himself for his doubts and assured himself that he would be happy. Suddenly a schoolboy of eight or nine came rushing over the lawn with unbearable yells and throwing himself on the neck of his sisters embraced them roughly. ■ “I’ity me!” thought Maurice. “A brother! The likeness would prove it. What a little monster it. is with those goggling blue eyes, his nose like a duck, and his beak of a mouth. Decidedly, a tiltcd-up lip is not so attractive as I thought at first; it easily turns into a hideous defect."- . Juliette bad been looking steadily at Mam ice for some moments trying to find a‘reason for the hard, annoyed expression which had darkened his face. “I do trust.” thought Maurice, ‘that his name may not be Borneo.” The youngster meanwhile had hurried to Hie suing and was Hying up and down, milking the rings to which the ropes were attached creak unpleasantly. “Take care you don’t fall. Jules,” cried Uli. Jules! They rose presently and walked about. The rather narrow paths allowed Maurice to walk alone with Juliette while the sisters followed.

lie felt a strange sadness in walking through this garden which he had so earnestly wished to enter. He had to admit that some days previously he. would have fell quite differently. Noth-.

ing had happened, yet this lofrc so young seemed struck by some mortal wound.

“•Still, I am sure I love, her,” he thought; “Am I going mad?”

He drew Juliette toward the bench and made her sit down beside-him* “It was here,” he said, “that you arranged the flowers in your basket. I did not lose one of your motions. You went from one bush to anther, light and fresh as the flwers you gathered! I thought I was watching the elf ..of the rose in her own realm. Then you threw me a flower to chase me away.” “No, no,” she objected, “it was a gift.” “Then permit me to offer this in return,” said Maurice, his.ill-humour gone, and gathering a lovely rose he fastened it in Juliette’s hair. She thanked him with a smile. “When it is faded will you keep it?’ he whispered. “Yes,” she answered, her eyes falling. At this moment Julie and Lili, who were doubtless spying, walked off to a little distance, then returned. They had gone to put each a rose in her hair. Jules bad fastened One in his cap. Maurice could not restrain a gesture of impatience. He took out the rose he had placed in Juliette’s hair and threw it on the ground. Tile girl arose abruptly with tears iu her eyes. “ I am a brute” cried Maurice hiding his face-in his hands. "Pa rdon me. I am suffering, nervous; 1 do not know what is the matter with me. You could not understand if 1 were to try to tell you.” He picked up the flower and kissed it. “Let me keep it” he begged; “it has touched your hair.” But Juliette without replying, walked away. Maurice felt, unspeakably wretched. He appreciated -the absurdity of his own rudeness and wondered again if he could be insane. , He rose, to follow Juliette and crave forgiveness, but she had already gone into, the house He met Mine. Manivaux just coming cut. ....

“1 hope my daughters, have taken my place since 1 was obliged to keep you waiting,” she said, turning, l;ack to.ward the house, leading hint. into, the parlour and offering him a chair. “It is so kind of you to conic*.’-’

“My kindness is full of; egotism, madanie/.’.he said with a. polite smile; “the pleasure is foe myself.” ... .

The conversation, continued ..for some time on geoer. ilities. Mme. Manivaux made vain efforts to. render it a little more intimate; Maurice seemed deterniinted to maintain it on the p'an<v-of the commonplace. . . ' . Julie and Lili entered the parlour.

“ Give us a little musie,” said their mother, who was getting to the end of her resources. They had to be pressed a little, and then attacked a duet.

Maurice listened while he watched them out of a corner of his eye with a malicious smile. lie regarded them merely as marriageable gills, with few attractions and no fortune. Juliette absent, it seemed to him that she was not unlike her sisters.

“What mu I doing among swell common people?” he wondered. The duet over, Maurice complimented the sisters, anil rose to take leave.

“ We shall meet often, I. hope,” said Mme. Manivaux. “You are remaining for the season?”

“No madam,” he replied, “important affairs call me to Paris sooner than 1 expected; but. I shall have the honour to come and say good-by.”

Juliette came into the room as he said this. She was so pale and grave, so dignified, that his heart contracted, and his love- rcturnad.

He withdrew, giving Juliette a long look of repentance, which she pretended not to see. -

When he got home he thought Of her tenderly, and felt miserable at the idea, of going away and never seeing her again. “ Why did I say I was going

away?” he asked him&elt “I am enough to be put in a strait-jacket.”

He could eat no dinner; insomnia au4 fever chased him from his bed. He got up, dressed and went to hover about Juliette’s bouse. One of the windows on the second story was lit, he saw shadows coming and going. “ Someone sick! ” thought Maurice, his heait sinking. The 'window was raised as though to relieve a person oppressed for air. “ She is suffering,” he murmured, “perhaps because of my unkindness.” Then, while he was gazing anxiously toward the window a sudden idea struck him that it might be Jules taken with an indigestion. The whole family.,would be waiting on him while he, Maurice, stood out there like a dunce. The blood rushed to his face, and he turned to go; but just then he heard something like a sob, heard with his heart rather than his ear, and he knew it was Juliette. Without stopping to reflect, he jumped over the fence to climb up to the window ; but steps approaching in the streets checked his impulse, and the dawning day forced him to depart. He did not dare to present himself on the following day; and the hours dragged slowly. In the evening he went to the casino, hoping to get some news of his friends. He walked about tho drawing rooms until he heard someone “Here comes Mme. Manivaux with her troop.” "Her troop! Kxactly so,” thought Maurice, with an ironical smile. Jules advanced first, next came Uli, then Julio. Mme. Manivaux followed. People stared. The Manivaux looked enibarrassed and father awkward. Juliette was not with them. Maurice slipped behind the groups of people, stepped out, and hurried with all speed to Hie house. The windows of Hie parlour on the ground floor were open, and a light shone through the curtains. He crept noiselessly to the casement, and lookiiig in. saw Juliette sitting in an arm-chair, leaning her head on her hand. She looked pale in tho soft, shaded lamp-light. She wore white, her hair was careleisly tied; she seemed depressed and suffering. Then Maurice discovered that she was crying. “ Juliette! ” lie exclaimed, trying to reach her; but, the window had iron bars across it,’which he shook in vain.

The girl bounded to the window and parted the curtains. Maurice tried to snatch her hand, but she drew back. “You here! ” she said, faintly. “ Stay, 1 implore you,” ho said. “Tell me you forgive me.” “Em- what?”

‘•Juliette,’’ he said, gravely, “do not let us try to conceal our sentiments. You know very well that T love you with; my whole soul. I have the audacity to believe that yon are not indifferent to inc. Yet I grieved you yesterday, and have been punished enough by my own regret. Tell me you forgive me anil that you care for me a little.” “What good would it do to have me admit it, since you are going away?” she asked gently. “But. I’m not going. T don’t know what demon tempted me to say that, since 1 am chained here and could not go away if I would.” “Well,” she answered, unable to repress a joyous movement, “eonie to-morrow. It is not correct for m? to ia» talking to you at the window while my mother is si way.” He found her hand* this time and kissed it,; but she drew it away and went back into the room. -Maurice walked off happy. He returned the next day and found all the family in .the parlour. He was informed that Juliette had been indisposed, but had suddeply recovered on the previous evening, . He excliaiigcd a smile wit,b tlie fair invalid whicli the others were too absorbed ,t.o perceive. They insisted on his staying to dinner. The afternoon seeineil interminable: He was

not alone with Juliette for an instant, and wan .obliged to keep up a commonplace conversation. —. .. _

The dinner was an agony. Jules was outrageous. Julie dull, Lili chattered incessantly, undthe meal was badly served. Maurice left early without observing Juliette’s pitiful look. He walked off whistling an air, and his heart was cold. He was not in love.

At the Casino/ where he looked in for a moment, he met a physician’whose acquaintance he had made, and to him he confided his singular state of mind.

“It-is tl> e Beginning of nervous prostration, ’ said the doctor; “get a change of air and of scene. Travel; interest yourself in some new occupation.”

“If I might travel alone with her!” thought Maurice. r-. A few days after, Juliette received the following letter: "If you do not love me, my dear, sweet Juliette, destroy this letter without reading it, for you will not understand it; but if you feel for me an atom of the deep, true Jove with which you have inspired me then, in the name of this affection, read to the end wihout anger. A strange conflict is raging within mo. You have already half perceived without understanding it; you have suffered from it, alas! and despite my regret, I am powerless to conquer myself. I scarcely dare to tell you, Juliette, but your family inspires me with a jealous aversion: I am angry with your sisters for presuming to resemble you; angry with your mother for having once been as lovely as you. In them 1 seem to see you as in an imperfect mirror which distorts your image; my dream is troubled—my love hesitates. Your beauty .is veiled behind the imperfections of those surrounding you, and if I did not flee from this circle my love would die as though in a suffealing atmosphere. I prefer the misery I suffer when away from you to the insant irritation which makes my heart ache in your presence. I would rather die of my love than Jose it. You cannot doubt t)>e sincerity of my sentiments, Juliette; I dare to believe you would be willing to l>e my wife. But if you do love me, give me a proof of confidence. Come to me; we will.go far away from here and be married. Jn writing this, I feel all the insanity of my request, and yet—l will wait a week for you. At the end of that time all will be over for me. Pity my weakness.”

At the end of her reading, Juliette sat silent, as though stunned, then her face flushed and with a sudden movement of anger she crushed the letter and threw it from her.

Maurice waited in dolorous anxiety; his reason came back little by little and he comprehended the enormity' of his conduct, the indignity he had put upon his love. He feared the door of this hospitable house would be-forever closed to him, and perhaps the heart of Juliette as well. Still he waited.

The eight days passed on slow and sorrowful. The ninth found Maurice, who had passed a sleepless night, prostrated by suffering and regret. “What shall I do?” he wondered. “I have destroyed my own happiness, like a child. All is over; my heart is empty; she has not come. How could I ever have thought she would! Sine; it is ended I must go, yet 1 would rather die.” He let his head fall into his hands and gave way to his despair.

A soft hand on his shoulder aroused him. He looked up to see Juliette Ireside him. Suffocated by emotion, he could not utter a word; but.he clung to the girl’s arm as though he feared siie might elude him.

“You are sick, Maurice,” she said, sweetly, laying her cool hand on his burning brow. “We will cure you."’

Maurice then saw Mine. Maiiivaux standing near her daughter, looking at him in her gentle, kind way' as though she, too, were on the verge of tears. “See how good a mother can lie,” continued Juliette; “she read your letter, and it was she who would not allow me to break with you. I wanted to, but she interceded for you. 1 cannot forgive. you until you hfive merited her pardon; for you have oi;ii'i‘aged her feelings, though she is so ready to forget it.”

“My mother!” cried Maurice, turning toward M,ine. Manivn.ux, who opened her *»nis to embrace biih.

“My clear son,” she said, with tears; “I forgive you freely.” And she added in a low tone: “All these dark thoughts will vanish when you have children of jour own who will ’look like .Juliette.”