Newspaper Page Text
t* from the French of Henri
tirerllle.
BY ANNIE MURRAY.
CHAPTER XH.
Lvdia retunied slowly to the house. Bef< -re the
return of Boris she had wept much over the flight
of her dream, which she believed was lostforever,
now the chain was not broken; nothing had
changed but the sweetness of feeling herself sur-
rounded every hour with that atmosphere of love
to which her lover had accustomed her. llappi-
ness had fled but the chain remained Frightened
by the future that opened before her, Lydia paused
abruptly in the shady avenue of linden trees, and
did he ntarol Why b„s he .
chained me? ‘Why have I promised since happiness
will never come, never! ’ . . .
<• i' -•.» on the orvfl.cc careless of the Sliest v
awaited her. and Wept still tiiote Wtterl"} not foi
Boris who. during this time was going away, h:s
heart full of grief, yet filled with indomitable cour
age and confidence—but about berseit. And bei
tears did not solace her , , , ,
Finally she entered the house, bathed her red
eyes and burning cheeks with fresh water and en
tered the garden where the announced guest was
smoking a cigar awaiting the rising »t the Lorehne
couple. It was the prince No » k
but Lydia knew as soon as they called her she was
never mistaken about the hour »f Ins amu 1 .
Usually it was with pleasure that she went to
meet him: the admiration of the young man flat
tered the secret fibres of her feminine heart But
that evening an unaccountable constraint took pos
session of her as'she approached Prince Anmnnoff.
He on the contrary had never been disposed
speak to clearlv. If she had wished to provoke a
declaration, Lydia could have imagined nothing
1 ietter than to hesitate. As soon as she appeared
Armianoff advanced to meet her. . , . , -
-At last, Lydia Stepanovna! I did not think ot
having the pleasure of seeing you to-day.
The evening before she would have answered
“You are then anxious to see me! 1 o-day. w bat
could she answer! With her head boweu she stam
mered:
“I was walking in the forest. .
“If 1 had known that. 1 should have joined you
there." replied the prince, interpreting favorably
the embarassment of the young girl.
She east a frightened glance at him. but the in
creasing twilight covered her confusion.
—You have remained alone some time, sai 1 sue.
after a short silence. “They ought to have informed
my mother and father'
‘"No. no!’’ replied the prince, quickly. It was
not necessary to disturb them. It is; not exactly-for
them that I come so often. Mademoiselle Lydia.
Here also she w ished to reply as usual; the halt-
formed smile died on her lips.
••Betrothed!” thought she, impatiently.
“Do you know why I come so often, persisted
the prince.
“No,” murmured the confused girl.
She felt that her future was iu her hands—wliat
must she do? , - r ,
“Then I will tell von next tune. Oh! Mademoi
selle Lydia, vou who know so well how to guess
everything, how is it that you do not know that
He spoke in a half serious, half playful tone. A
little more encouragement on the part of the young
girl would have rendered him entirely' serums, but
jip feared nothing so much &s ridicule^ and he had
the stood sense to know that being a prince and rich
did not suffice to make him beloved by every one.
• k I am sometimes very dull at>out guessing, said
Lydia, who felt her natural manner gaining the as-
06 “Then I must give you a full explanation ” said
the young man' “But I see your mother at the end
of the avenue. Where is Boris Ivanovitth.
Lydia felt the blood rush to her torehead. In a
faint voice she replied:
“He is not here.”
“So I see.” said the prince, laughing, but where
does he conceal himself? The windows of Ins room
ar “Hek5 gone,” said Lydia, forcing herself to regain
Gone r S said the urince, stupefied. “In what di
rection!” CL* ' ->*0 “V, 1 I
yfifnfWen retired a little behind Decided
ly her situation was intolerable.
, ’After the first words of greeting, the prince said:
“I learn that M. Grehof has left you. How dal
th “IkfnoTspeak to me aliout it,” replied Madame
Goreline, irritated, and throwing amenacmg glance
toward her daughter, which was lost on her for it
was almost dark. As they went toward the house,
she continued: “That young man is a wretch, and
I do not know how 1 could have been so blind as to
introduce him here We are all liable to make mis
takes, hut this lesson will make me more prudent
in future.”
Armianoff could not recover from his surprise.
Suddenly a ray of light flashed across his mind.
“Has he committed an indelicacy!” asked he,
knowing that with Madame Goreline he could be
inquisitive without fearing to appear indelicate
himself.
- “The worst of all!” she replied with a sullen ac
cent of rage in her voice. “But do not speak of it,
Prince, I beg you.”
They entered the well lighted dining-hall. Ar-
mianoff took in at a glance the confused air of Eu
gene. the sullen appearance of the general, the
flashing eyes of the mother, the bright flush and
swollen eye-lids of Lydia,the end of whose nose even
was red.
: ‘How stupid I am!” said he to himself, “how has
it l*en that 1 did not see it? They love each
other!”
The shock which that dicovery gave him was so
violent that he had to call all the science of a man
of the world to disguise his feelings. Happily the
repast placed liefore them served as a pretext for
frequent pauses in their disconnected conversation,
and he had time to make some reflections. His first
thought was not the chagrin of having a rival, hut
a certain irritation against the whole Goreline fam
ily.
"I have been played upon!” said he to himself
and the tea he had swallowed seemed hitter.
Second thoughts proved to him that at least the
]>areiits had seen nothing of this since they had dis
charged Boris in such a way, thought Armianoff,
that it must have been disagreeable for him Who,
then has trifled with him? Lydia! Lydia herself,
in receiving his gallantries while her heart was
beating for another.
Astonished to feel more anger than chagrin, he
looked at Lydia and felt almost indifferent towards
her beautiful face disfigured by tears.
“I do not love her so much as I thought,” he said
to himself. “She is not pretty at all when she
weeps.”
~ These reflections and many others which he made
contributed, with him. to enliven the repast; the
company tried from time to time to enter into con
versation, hut w ithout success. Under the pretext
of a severe headache, Armianoff left early. As he
took leave of his host 1-e said:
“M. Grehof has lent me some books which I wish
to return to him. Do yon know his address?”
“Mv wife has his address.” replied the good man
without hesitation, while his better half cast a ter
rible glance at him.
“Will you please give it to me, madame?” asked
the prince, politely. T will lie very much obliged
to you.”
“I have lost it. I believe,” replied she, determined
to give him a false address rather than have him
correspond with the hated tutor.
“I know it myself,” said Eugene, triumphantly,
“it was on Boris Ivanovitch’s valise. I know it by
heart—No. 84 Rue des Jardins.”
Eugene knew very well that he would receive one
or two slaps to accompany him to lied that night,
hut he was unhappy at having caused the disgrace
of his tutor and that malice shown toward his
mother seemed to him a sort of reparation to the
young man.
“No. 84 Rue des’Jardins, Moscow,” repeated the
prince.
“But no!" interrupted Madame Goreline, with a
flash of anger in her eyes, “that is his old address.
He has moved: lie dwells at present at the other
end of town, but I do not know where.
Armianoff looked at the lady attentively; this
rapid examination was sufficient to prove to him
that he would obtain no information from her—a
new idea occurred to him, and he lost no time in
putting it into execution. He took leave and less
fhnn Half an hour afterwards, his caleche stopped
before the steps of his sumptuous dwelling.
“Do not unharness the horses,” said lie to the
coachman, who remained as immoveableas if fixed
*Arnffifuoff mounted the staire hastily ordered
his valet to put some linen and other effects into a
small leathern valise, took from his secretory a roll
of 1 Kink-notes and the newspaper giving directions
for the route necessary in order to procure post-
horses: then a new thought occurred to linn; he
opened the window and called to his coachman: .
“Efime. is the caleche in good order?”
“Yes, your Highness.”
“Would it go to Moscow?”
“As far as St. Petersburg, your Highess; I exam
ined it this morning.” ...
Armianoff closed the window, fastened his valise,
threw a cloak on his shoulders and ran down the
^fwill return, ]>erliaps in an hour perhaps to-
SwSSS were landing hi
‘fe^toM^^edhise^
^“To'toHn,” said he to his coachman, “tothepost-
St Tl£ n 'caloehe went off as swift as the wind. On
approaching the station he saw 1.1 the distance a
dark shadow move heavily oft amid the sound of
bells and the cracking of whips. Five minutes al
ter Armianoff called to the station-mastei:
“The diligence for Moscow:
•It has just left, your highness, replied the sta
tion-master, standing humbly, with his head 1111-
coven l. . 1
“Did it take n young man from here.
“Yes, sir; with a little girl.’ .
\ little girl'” repeated the prince, surprised.
-Yes, sir; a peasant from your domain brought
them here.”
“Where did they con e from!
-From General Goreline’s.” . .
-Four post-liorses,” said the prince, showing his
passport; and quickly. I am in a hurry.
They hurried but there were not enough horses
and it was necessary to apply at the house of a
peasant, and thus much time was lost. It was near
ly one o'clock in the morning when everything was
le -You can tell them at home that I will not re
turn to-night.” said Armianoff to his coachman,
when that person mounted one of the carnage
horses and holding the other hv the bridle, was
about to take leave of his master.
“As for mo,” said lie. to himself, as the little liells
of the horses kept time with their galop, I am go-
in<r to overtake M. Grehof. If it is mistreatment
toLydia, I will kill him. If they have mistreated
him—we will see.”
CHAFTER XIIL
Armianoff had but little sleep during tlie hours
tint followed owing to the necessity of having to
m keat the stations to settle his fare and ask news
of the diligence. He slept so well how ever, that at
davli'dit he was very much surprised to find before
him the walls of a monastery and the stone budd
ings of a town of some importances He recollected
then that he had traveled a good portion of the
night, that he had awakened and fallen asleep again,
then stretching himself, he entered the station while
they changed his horses.
“The diligence?” asked be. _
“There it goes,” replied some one, pointing to a
black speck in the distonco.
“Give me some tea—lie quick/ was his rep > ,
he began to walk rapidly up and down before the
door in order to stretch his limbs.
He drank the boiling tea which they gave him,
put into his pocket two or three warm rolls, which
the peasants had offered him at the door of the car
riage, and said to the postilion who mounted his
^“Overtake the diligence and you shall be reward
The postdion cracked his whip and swore at liis
r 1 Ii ..Ir,wtir,nr TOith ft r;it'll 1 IP. (1(3-
entered one into another. .
“Trv the spurs! Overtake the diligence cried
the prince, electrified by this sort of steeple-chase.
“Five roubles if you overtake it before it reaches
the station.” , , , ,
The four wheels almost left Ihe ground, tumbling
down the declivity with the rapidity of a locomo
tive, and remounting the opposite hill with the
same swiftness in consequence of the acquired ve-
locity. How could those wjm-out horses manage
such work? The drivers alone were able to answer
that by telling the number that they used every
month. .,, ...
Tul>e after tube disappeared and the rolling mass
approached nearer and nearer; finally the two car-
were abreast.
“Stop!” called the prince.to the driver of the dili
gence. „
“The diligence does not stop; it is forbidden, re
plied the official, whipping his horses.
Armianoff drew a rouble from his pocket and
flashed it in the sun. .
“Faekka!” cried the postilion, winking at the
conductor, “look back over the road; I behove that
horse on the left has lost a shoe.”
“M. Grehof!” cried the prince, in a stentorian
voice, while ilie conductor examined the feet of his
six horses—Jill in a perfect condition, no one knew
this better than himself.
Boris, astonished at hearing his name called at
this place, put his head out from the curtain which
covered the imperial and opened his eyes wide on
seeing the prince.
“Came into my carriage, will you? I wish to
sjieaktoyou; we” will continue the journey t< >geth~
er. ”
Boris got out quickly and leaped into the caleche.
The frightened face of little Sonia followed his
movements; he removed her fears with a gesture.
“Is all ready?” cried the postilion.
“Go on,” replied the conductor.
And the two carriages started 011 their way.
Armianoff did not like long preambles and Boris
was a man to whom one could speak frankly. He
did not lose any time in broaching the subject.
“I beg pardon for thus troubling you on your
journey, Boris Ivanavitc ,” said he, when he was
seated "beside him, “but you will understand that it
is no slight fancy that has made me pursue you
since yesterday evening.”
Boris, more astonished than ever, acquiesced by a
sign without comprehending anything.
“Will you reply frankly to my questions?” con
tinued Armianoff. “It matters much whether I
see in you a friend or a stranger. I expect from
you the absolute truth without reserve.
“I will speak the truth,” replied Boris, beginning
to understand 1 hings.
“In what relation do you stand to Mademoiselle
Goreline?”
Boris, feeling a littie angry, encountered the
prince’s eyes. Those handsome and proud, yet
cold eyes had a serious and ojien expression before
which the tutor felt his anger abate. In a moment
he took in all the consequences of his reply, and fix
ing his eyes on Armianoff’s face, he replied:
“I love her and I have asked her to he my wife.
“And she?”
“She has consented.”
“Of her own accord?”
“Of her own accord.”
“When was that?”
“It was two months ago.”
“Before my arrival?”
“Yes.”
“Why did von leave?”
“Because Madame Goreline having learned our
love, refused to give me her daughter in marriage.”
“And the general?”
Boris shrugged liis shoulders and smiled sadly.
“Then you have renounced Mademoiselle Gore
line?” .
“Why do you wish to know that?
“In onler to act for the best. Answer me, I beg
you, have you renounced Mademoiselle Goreline?”
The ca leehe rolled along. Boris, after a moment’s
struggle, replied:
“I coDfide to you the peace of Mademoiselle
Lydia’s life, because I think you are an honest man.
I have seen her again.”
“When!” . _ , , „
“Yesterday evening, before dark.
“Well?”
“Bhe promised to wait for me. I consider her as
mv betrothed. The ill wishes of her parents can
retanf but not break up our union.”
“She promised you yesterday evening? .
“Yes ” replied Boris, sick at heart and irritated
by all these question*. ,
“Why have her parents refused >
“Because I am poor,” said Boris, with a hitter
laugh ‘‘You need not have asked me that,”
Anpianoff reflected a moment, then took Boris’s
0 “Friend,” said he. “Relate to me the particulars.
1 assure you that you will never regret your confi
dence.” ■ ,, ",.
Gained over by the cordial warmth of his manner,
Boris related to him all that had passed since the
morning before, including the discharge of Sonia,
and the charge he had taken upon himself of carry-
fngthat little one to his mother Armianof listened,
hil brilliant eyes half smiling, half indignant. Vi hen
Boris had finished, he said: . . T
“What a knight-errant you are, fnend, as I said
before. What are you going to do?”
“1 do not know,” replied tne student, whose pass
im excitement had abated. “For the present I am
goTii"' to pre another’s, where ± will slay’ several
weeks for l am a little fatigued,” added he, turning
towards the prince with a feeble smile.
His hollow eyes and burning c heeks proved 111
f.-ot that those two days of suffering had deeply at
tested liis vigorous constitution. Armianoff re
marked it, hut kept his reflections to himself.
“And after that?” he asked.
“Atter that 1 will take up my ordinary occupa
tions again. I will double the number of le&ous
that I give.” „ f
-That will prevent you from working for youi -
Se ' - -I will sle p less,” replied Boris. “Actually. I
have lost my summer. 1 must do double work this
“BiU ” said Armianoff. not without hesitation, “I
imagined that you had—I thought that the Gore-
^“Take from them at the same time their money
and daughter”’ said Boris, with bitterness; ‘no!
one of the two was sufticieut for me. In tact, not
having filled my engagement up to the tune, 1 could
not accept any remuneration.’ ... - . .
“So you are as far ahead as 111 the firs., ot the
season?” _ . . , ■ , j
“Exactly,” replied Boris, turning his head away
with an angry movement, “but I do not know why
we speak of these uninteresting details.”
The prince did not respond, for though Boris, 111
the beginning of their intimacy, had spoken without
constraint of liis pecuniary affairs and his plans for
the future, lie feared he had gone too far and had
wounded his susceptibility, which the existing cii-
cumstances rendered very easy to do.
At the end of ten minutes lie decided to break the
silence at the risk of still offending his morose fel
low-traveler. . .
“Instead of giving lessons, why do you not try to
find a fixed situation with some learned person, who
would confide to you the reading of his manuscript
or the mission of assisting him in his latiors?”
“I would prefer infinitely this kind of labor, but
such situations are rare and one can scarcely ever
find them- I would turn a grindstone; it is surer.
I have already done it, and I can do it aghiii.”
And Boris continued obstinately to watch the
monotonous landscapes which spread themselves
before bini. , .. ., , .
“Listen Boris ivunovitoh,” said the prince, attei
ft tong silence, “I ought also to tell the whole truth;
t have been in love with Mademoiselle Goreline,
and l have thought of asking for her hand
Boris turned towards him, Ins eyes full of sadness
and uneasiness. . . since
“But,” continued Armianoff, it is enough, since
she has engaged herself to you for me to renounce
my pretentions. You were there before me, > ou
have obtained her free consent—I retire and tell
y Tnsteadot y Cing pleased, Boris felt his sadness he-
C °“She shainiave the right of choosing between us;
between two persons so different.
-If she should hesitate for such a reason, replied
the prince gravely “she is not worthy ot either of
grasped his hand firmly.
* riV !!YiaM»iL.i ” said Armianoff, as they
part feu, “arri<MWon whom you can rely. I11 any
circumstances, ’call upon me. Upon my honor, I
promise not to try to see Mademoiselle Goreline
again.”
This promise was useless. The manner in which
Lydia, the betrothed of another, had received the
gallantries of the pi ince, had completely detached
him froril her; and even now, if he had dared he
would have told Boris how little he need count upon
the constancy of that weak, coquettish child. But he
had no right to speak of it and he was silent.
Some minutes after, the two carriages took oppo
site routes, and Boris, greatly relieved, found again
seated beside him the frightened little girl, who had
110 one in the world to look to but him.
(To be Continued.)
Poor Carlotta.
Since the Empress Carlotta, after the disastrous
fire at Tirvueren, has resided at the Chateau de
Bouchout, her Majesty’s health has greatly im
proved. She is allowed complete lilierty, not only
in the chateau, but in the park. The Queen of Bel
gium is most devoted to her sister-in-law, and lier
frequent, almost daily visits are looked forward to
with the greatest pleasure. The empress has one
remarkable peculiarity: she never speaks in the
first person, Tmt always uses the abstract substan
tive “on”—“O11 desire, on veut, 011 exige”—but,
affable and gracious to all, it is seldom that she goes
beyond expressing a wish, “011 desire.” She takes
a great interest in the families of the fanners and
cottagers on the estate, and when inquiring aliout
them says: “ It is wished to know if they are well
or happy”—ir she will mention to the gardener
that “it is remarked there are leaves in a certain
AUNT MELISSA'S VISIT.
By Virginia Rosalie Sfiehie.
AVhen Mrs. Melissa Badger's husband died, the
doctor advised her to travel. “She seems to take
the thing so hard,” said he, “that 1 thought a change
of scene would help lier.” She did travel accord-
ingly, and, after two years spent in seeing sights,
as she said, she returned home, and was just about
to settle down when she received a letter from lier
cousin, Mrs. Bloomfield, asking her to come anil
live with with them. “Your know, Cousin Me
lissa, that it has always been my greatest desire to
hare you live with us. While poor Isaac lived
you refused to come; during the past two yeare it
has been impossible; now, I beg you not to settle
down all by yourrelf, and lead a lonely, dreaiy
life, hut come to ns; we will be delighted to have
you, and we will do all in our power to make you
comfortable and happy.” Farther on, the lettei
said: “Bring all your things5 dont sell }om furni-
tore because you may fear -we have not room for
it. We have a large house, with abundant room
that you are perfectly welcome to make use of. We
have a pleutv, and what is ours is yours also.
This letter contained a great deal more; so much
in fact that hardly anybody could withstand the
temptations it held out. Th« result was that Aunt
Melissa accepted the invitation, packed up and
W “No use for me to live here by myself when so
many of my relations is wanting me,” she said.
Tim Bloorufields were very stylish, aristocratic
lieop’e - poor but proud, and 1 lending all tlieir ener
gies to “making a show.” Mr. Bloomfield, a small,
meek, timid man, was decidedly under the control
of his wife, who ruled the i.ouseliold, and \vhose
chief ambition was to marry her daughters “well,
by which she meant rich. She had four upon the
matrimonial list. They had been there some time,
and, from all appearances, were likely to remain
longer. Trying to pars as rich people necessitated
anv amount of pinching, scraping and economizing.
Every dollar they could lay their hands on was
spent for clothes, for furniture for the parlor, in
to put upon the table when there was compan,..
The table went begging whan there was none. Airs.
Bloomfield was accustomed to say m her own fami
ly “I didn’t mind the pinching and scraping so
much liefore the girls were grown, for I thought all
the time surely they will marry rich to pay for all
this; but it is worse now than before. Here 1 have
got all four of them on my hands yet, and nobody
knows the trouble I have to clothe them decently
“If Aunt Melissa wasn’t so stingy she would help
us. I am sure, with all her money she ought to.
said Miss Charlotte, the eldest, whose charms
were rather passee.
“Write to her and ask her to come and live with
us mamma, and when she sees how we need money
maybe she’ll take the hint and help us,” said Miss
M Tbey’nad not bought of this before, and medita
ting upon the subject, Mrs. Bloomfield denied that
it was the liest tiling she could do. She would
write Aunt Melissa to come and live with thim
and perhajis they could gain somethmg by .
had money and with no relations marti than
themselves^it would he quite natural for her to leave
° ld
carry it, hold it this way, and when y«« sing hoMit
this way, and it won’t look so bad. 1 > >. «
I’ve give everybody something cent Julia, am
her I’m going to give my hair-trunk—not going
give it to you now, hut leave it to you whe •
If you want to go visiting any tune and to
tiorry it you may have it. 1 would give it y
now hut in the summer yer pa might want to tek
us all to Sarrytogy, or some other watering place,
and then I would need it.”
When Aunt Melissa left them alone, the young
ladies and Mrs. Bloomfield flung down their pres
ents in a passion of disappointment and disgust.
“To think,” said Miss Charlotte, that after all''e
had exiieoted we should receive this trash. w a < tia
not invite her here for ‘poor Ike’s’ remnants.
“I wonder.” exclaimed Miss Clara, if she thinks
I am going to carry this old fan about, and wear
there old pulse-warmers.” t
“And 1 wonder,” said Maggie, “if she thinks -
am going to carry this old hymn-book to. cluircli
with me. Oh, its dreadiul to think of the way we
liavelieen deceived!” „ ..
“Neve? mind gills, don't say anything eke.
Mrs. Bloomfield, “it’s plain that Aunt Mahssa ,3
a perfect miser, and we wont get anything until
she di- s, hut “better late than never,
Preparations went on for the party to be en
in Aunt Melissa’s honor, and when the time arm
Aunt Melissa put in her appearance droased in a
“bran new black silk.” that would have looked nice
ly if it had been fashionably made; hut, alas! tor
Aunt Melissa. She still clung to the old styles, am
persisted in wearing a very vide old-fash ion cl
hoop-skirt, saving that she heard hoop* were com
ing in fashion again, and she wanted to look suvlisn
that evening. With some
field persuaded her to leave ■
let, and Mrs. Badger desce.
where she was introduced tot
of the Bloom fields.
“Howdy do,” she said to c.
you,” and immediately coinmen
showing that she was not at all
so many aristocratic strangers.
The Bloomfields were very careful t<
body know of Aunt Melissa’s wealth
about her recent visits to Rome and Fai
nallv Mrs. Alexander, a lady of genuiiu
and education, sought a conversation
Badger to gain from her a descriptioi
els. ‘ Perha'i
doubted wlietl
lenity Mrs. Blooni-
’ at part of her toi-
into the parlors
stocratic £i'i*uoi>
“rale glad to see
>,1 talking to them,
nfused at meeting
et every-
nd talked
ris, etc. Fi-
e refinement
with Mrs.
>f her trav
ail! not care for a description, but
Mrs. Badger had ever seen those
aer only relatives
K but ^TeTithterprei^Yto^ild afford to
be Auiit Melina wrote'and accented their invitation
to Yome auTfive with them tiflshe died1 ”and then
there was considerable preparation in t leiBlowm
field mansion. In preparing Aunt Melissa s rieu
room great sacrifices had to be made by the mem
bers of the Bloomfield family. , ,,
-I do hope ” skid Miss Clara, “that Aunt Melissa
will bringa great ileal of her furniture with her,
for we need it if anybody ever dhd. ... h
“And I do hope,” said Miss Charlotte, tuar sne
will buy us a new piano Indore long. I am
so tired of keeping a long cover over ours to make
believe we have a very fine one, when itw as oklas
, c whan we are asltisl to pu>>
the
ark and of saving wn
h i .*** —. ,y -
iTvYue rtmjie or «*
alley that should he swept away, or that some alter
ation lias l ieen nicely done.” The empress’ meals are
served with the same ceremony as at court, and she
always prepares for them by making a change in
her ilress. When “ L’imperatrice est servi ” has
been amu uneed, she enters the dining-room and
takes her seat after making a ceremonial curtsy to
her suite, composed of the governor of the palace,
the medical attendant, and the ladies in waiting.
Her appetite is excellent, and her conversation is
always sensible and to the point. There are sub
jects to which she never alludes, and which, hut for
occasional fits of abstraction, one might think were
now completely banished from her mind. On the
whole, the Empress Carlotta leads a life as quiet,
as calm, and as happy as could lie wished, and there
is no f laudation for the sensational reports that
every now and then appear in the French papere.
The Chateau de Boucliout belonged, in I4.49, to the
Duke of Brabant, and since then it has passed into
the hamls of different noble families. In I476, it
was the property of the La Marche d’Arenbergs,
and in 1842, it came into the possession of the Due
da Beanffort, of whom it was purchased by the kii g
for its present destination. 'I he Empress Carlotta
inhabits the anartments of the first floor, which are
decorated with valuable pictures by modern artists.
In a little boudoir is a bust of the Emperor Maxi
milian, a souvenir brought from Mexico, and in the
large salon a full-sized portrait of the ill-fated
prince, as well as portraits of the royal family of
Belgium.
Victor Hugo, in one of his recent speeches, said:
“Khakspere—all England is in that word! Dante—
that word contains all Italy!” anil went on all over
Euroi>e, only omitting to mention France and her
representative poet. The omission, however, was
naturally supplied hv the banqueters. It reminds
one of Marshal Saxe’s modesty when a lady asked
him who was the first General of the age.
“Madame,” said the great Captain, “the Marquis
of Spinola is the second!”
A Mr. Ben Lowe, of Texas, bet he could stand
on his head for two hours in a bar room. He died
winning the bet. His head had Ben Lowe down
too long.
i ( li., / upjiv the
/e’ve Hardly a lawk
hf tke'house, yet in the library there they are all
in a row, marked “Shakespeare, “Milton, Tennj-
son,” “Scott,” “Moore,” “Goldsmith,” etc., just pre
cisely like real books. You don't know how guilty
I feel when a person wants to look at a laaik and
I have to manufacture some excuse. Perhaps, if
they have never heard the excuse about the piano-
key lieing lost, I tell them that the library-key is
lost.”
“And I hope,” said Miss Claia, “that Aunt Me
lissa will bring some of her fine clothes with her.
We might make them over to replenish our own
wardrobes. What does an old woman like her want
with lace flounces, lace saeques, colored silks and
jewelry? I am going to try and persuade Aunt
Melissa to turn everything of that sort over to her
needy and dutiful neices.
Thus they talked until the day of the arrival of
Aunt Melissa. All looked forward to it with great
eagerness, and at last came the all-important day.
Her “dutiful neices” were greatly disgusted to find
her dressed in a very shabby black alpacca dress.
“A lady with her money ought to travel in cash-
mere at least,” they said. But Aunt Melissa never
mistrusted how they felt about her dress. “The
dear critters were so proud to see her—bless their
souls.” She slied thankful tears to think she had
such a home to live in “till she died,” and wished
C7C-1T stray, lonely woman had such affectionate
relatives > , ,
When Mrs. Bloomfield asked after her trunks and
inquired when the furniture would arrive, the old
lady pointed to an oldfashioned hair trunk elaborate
ly studded with brass tacks, that was standing oil
the side-walk, and remarked that all her things,
clothes and presents were in there. As to furni
ture. she didn't have much, hut wliat she did have
she sold, and was going to buy herself a dress for
the party.
“The presents!” The girls were almost wild with
delight when th-y heard her say “presents.” Vi un
der what they would he! Dear old Aunt Melissa!
how kind of her to give them presents so soon. One
hoped hers would bea diamond ring: another want
ed a pair of solitaire ear-rings: Miss Maggie wanted
a gold watch and chain, and Miss Julia thought she
would he so happy if Aunt Melissa would only give
her enough money to buy her a velvet dress for the
party.
Mrs. Badger did not distribute lier presents that
day. She was so tired she must rest: hut she said
they would receive them the next day. “I know
you will he pleased,” she said, “for I bought each
one what I thought she liked and would prize high
est,”
How kind and attentive they were to her that
day. Aunt Melissa never had had so many nurses
in her life. “Wish I had come here before, and had
not si>ent my money in traveling,” she thought.
Next day. Aunt Melissa pronounced herself
“spry,” and proceeded ti > distribute her gifts. Mrs.
Bloomfield was presented with a tobacco-pouch
that had belonged to “poor dear Ike.” “I knowed
you wouldjvalue it, Simon, ’cause it was his’11: and
every speck of tobacky that Ike used, he took out
of that there pouch.” Mrs. Bloomfield received a
calico quilt, “eyery hit pieced up by my own hands,”
said Aunt Melissa. “And now for the girls. Char
lotte, I brought you a pair of yarn stockings that
I knit myself. I know they will he warmer than
them silk tilings you wear. It’s tree 'twill take big
ger shoes to wear them with, hut that won’t hurt,
for, from the way you walk, I think them shoes you
got 011 pinches your toes. Strange how the gals
these days will wear tight shoes when it nearly kills
’em. When I was a gal I wore number fives and
wasn’t ashamed of it either, for when I felt like it
I put out my feet like everybody else. Clara, here
is a turkey-wing fan and a pair of pulse-warmers
for you. Prize them high, child, the fan lielonged
to me, and your Uncle Ike use to wear the pulse-
warmers. Maggie, I brought you poor Ike's hymn
hook. I hate to give it up, but 1 knowed he’d lie
pleased if you would carry it to church with you
every Sunday and sing out of it. • It's orful old, I
know, but I tried to sew it up and make it look
more deeeut liefore I give it to you. When you
Aaees: for how could any woman or man with cum-
plon sense travel as much without improving in
manners and grammar. When seated with Mrs.
mlexander Aunt Melissa’s first remark was:
“Well, I do declare! Simon Bloomfield i«t so hen
pecked; he let’s his wife lead him ’round by the
uose just any way she pleases.”
This remark was made in a very loud voice, and
attracted of course, considerable attention. . Some
laughed very sillily; hut Mrs. Alexander trifcd her
best to smooth over the want of taste and delicacy.
It was of no avail, for in a few minutes Aunt Me
lissa remarked: , , .
“Betsey Bloomfield does have the hardest time
to get her daughters off her hands I ever teed.
Why that Charlotte is almost thirty, 1 bet. and her
pa lias had her to Sarrytogy and everywhere else,
and she ain't married yet, and from wliat I see, she
nor none the rest is likely to be, unless thax’s a great
change. Needn’t tell me them gals is young; I tell
you powder, paint, false hair and seek stuff, make
a heap of difference in a gal. You jest ought to see
’em in the morning when they go 'round wiih then-
front hair done up in papers, and tlieir hack hair
done up in a little knot on their heads. I tell you,
/’mthe best looking then. They skeered. me the
first time I saw ’em that way.”
The company was becoming quite interested in
Aunt Melissa, and they all gathered around her to
hear what else she had to say. Mrs. Alexander ob
served this, and, having respect for host and host
ess. turned the conversation to Aunt Melissa.
‘‘They tell me, Mrs. Badger, that you have been
to Rome. Will you tell us something about the
Pantheon, the Coliseum, and the celebrated church
of St. Peter’s!'’
“I don’t know nothing bout them other things—
never beared on 'em before.' There was- a man there
named Mr. Peter Brown, I can tell you about him,
and while I was in Rome I went to the Baptist
Church, I can tell vou all about it. I liked Rome
ever so much. There’s a heap of country folks
there, and 1 like 'em 'cause I think they are heap
more friendlier than any other kind.”
“I don't understand wliat you mean by “country
iuLw‘<jiii ninaniieople frflOi—
I iui'f Yivnrt thut sTi.-s lilt -Aigcrt*
leli in the world and weighs over twenty-two thous
and tons—is it true?”
“Great Jemimy! the idea of anybody weighing
twenty-two thousand tons! I never heard the like,
whv she didn't weigh hut one hundred and twenty-
five pounds, and I couldn't say she was such a great
belle either. Her name was Miss Kate Hampton,
and she wasn't pretty ei' her, but her father was
rich and I reckon that's what made her such a great
belle.”
“You have misunderstood me, Mrs. Badger, in
regard to the bell. You surely couldn't have visit
ed Italv without seeing the great church of St.
Peter: and you surely could not have passed Rus
sia without going to Moscow to see the great Krem
lin ”
“Italy! Russia!” exclaimed the old lady—“I have
never lieen out of the United States in my life. I’ve
lieen to Rome. Ga., Moscow, Tenn., Athens, Go.
and Paris, Tenn., etc! but who told you I had visit
ed the tother country? My nieces, I reckon—told
you the names of the towns without telliu’ what
part of the world they was in. Ha! ha! ha! that’s
too good a joke. No doubt they meant well for
they are all orful good to me in my trouble. You
know when poor Ike died he left a right smart of
money to me. Well, ’bout a week before I come
here t found out that by investing it in the wrong
way I lost it all: but I don’t care so much about it
now since I have a good home with my nieces; and
if any feller was to come along end ask me to mar
ry him, I'd just lief marry as not, if he had plenty
of money and no children—I don’t like children—
they’re such pests.”
So Aunt Melissa went on, saying more and doiri-T
more harm than had ever been done to the Bloone
fields before- In a few minutes after, Mrs. Bloom
field, who had heard the latter part of her conver
sation, succeeded in getting her from the room, but
not from lier house, and home forever. Aunt Me
lissa was there by a pressing invitation, and Aunt
Melissa intended to remain until she died even if
she didn't leave anything but a hair-trunk.
The Bloomfields bore their disappointment in an
ger. and moved to another city soon after—they
could riot hear the shame of having jieople laugh at
them whenever they passed. From last reports
the giris are still unmarried; hut Aum Melissa has
changed lier name.
In the process of taking testimony in a divorce
case in Detroit in which 1 he husband was complain
ant and the wife was fighting the bill, the com
plainant's attorney asked the wife the following
questions:
“Mrs. . is it your fixed purpose, in case the
Court decrees the custody of the children to the
complainant, to kill yourself and your two chil
dren ?”
“Yes, sir; I shall kill my children if that hap
pens;” was the reply.
“Then you will kill Imth your children ?”
“And myself, yes, sir! Audi will take infinite
satisfaction in doing it before I will allow them to
go to him.
As a good joke on the inland secretary of the
navy, the papers are telling that when he was in-
specting a war ship at the Philadelphia navy yard,
it was thought proper to show him the d-pth of the
vessel by removing one of the hatches; when to the
astonishment of aU present, he exclaimed: “Why,
the old thing is hollow!”
Henry Bergh. of the American society for the
Prevention to Cruelty to Animals, lias sent an ajs*
peal to the King of Spain through a similar society
at Cadiz, to dispense with the bull fighting Dart of
the programme on the occasion of his approaching
nuptiais. We doubt if;the appeal will have anv ef
fect. Any interference with bull-fights would cause
a revolution in Spain.
Two of Iowa’s oldest citizens, and both of them
formerly United States Senators, Gens. Jones and
Dodge, ran for county offices at the recent election,
and were defeated. In Minnesota, ex-United
States Senator Wilkinson was elected Countv At
torney, and ex-United States Senator Rice County
Treasurer.