Chapter III.

Waikato Times, Volume X, Issue 573, 22 January 1876, Page 1 (Supplement)

Chapter 111.

A Few weeks later a strange lady arrived at the Cha'eau He Fresnes. Hho was tin Countess Jnles do Bruce, sister of Couni Patrick. She lived in the suhurhs oi Cherbourg, near the sea, in a country manor-house, and devoted her time to agriculture and benevolence. She never left her house except on occasions 01 extraordinary importance to her fmnily The world said of hrr that Tier arnvnl a' a house meant a marriage in that house She w»s an assured omen of matrimony, baptism or death. The Countess Jules was a septuagenarian. She was a little, old woman, whose Tery walk was inve>ted with a certain deliberate dignity, dictuted ns it were, by extreme propnety. but yet invested with a simplicity almost monastic. She harl been a widow for nearly fifty years. It was quite impossible to di-covtr what kind ot a nihn the Count Jules de Bruce had brcn in his diiy, or who he was. She never spoke of him. When astonishment was expressed that she had remnined so long a widow, the Countess said, ' T was mHrried fivo months, and that sufficed to show mo the nothingness of that kind of distraction.' And tins was all the cue wh ; ch the world was given to the character of the Count. She reached the chateau on thn evening before the day appointed tor the marrume of her grand nieco with Lionel do Uias Lionel, who for some time had lived at the Pavilion, in the house of his godmother, in order to be near the object of Im love, and thus be enabled to pro.ss his suit with more as»iduity, had himself come that day to the chateau do l'Aurore. He was therefore at once presented to the Countess She regarded him fixedly for a moment and then said in a grulf voice : ' Monsieur, your very humble servant ! You are good looking ; Ilikc}ou. Then the turned her back to him. bank into a large arm-chair, serenely unrolled an immense net-work of knitting and resolutely devoted herself to her work. Madame Fitzgerald was jest at this time in the midst of uieat perplexities, which she imparted confidentially to the Countess. 'My dear aunt,' she -said, 'it was so good of you to come to me. Your ?resenco is invaluable just at this time, expect a scoro ot friends this afternoon, and I have many preparations to make to receive them, orders to give, and above all, my two lovers here to superintend, it is a mercy you are here to relieve me ol my guard. I have the utmost confidence in the honor of M de Huis ; but you know there are certain proprieties which ■ociety demands shall be observed After the marriage, they may do as thry please ; but until then it seems to me highly improper that my (luuulitor an<i my future son-in-law should be left .in instant by them-elve«. T have myself ■een to tins until to dny, but now I pl.ici them in your cate. Do not lose sight of them for au instant while 1 am ab-tent. You will promise mo this, will you not, auniP' During this «erinus invocation a sarcas tic smilo phiypfl nhnut the withered lips of the Countess Ju'es. Hho accepted the mission by a very emphatic inclinntion o( the head. The occasion to fulfil this engagement was not long in coming. After breakfast Madame Fitzgerald retir d with her uncle to consult with him on the hospitalities which c'aimed their attention and on leaving the salon she cast on her aged aunt an expressive and suppliant look, The Cmntess Jules hid established herself in an embrasure of one of the windows. She had resumed her knitting and worked with unusual energy; but at intervals she cast a stern look on M'lY Marie who was nt the piano, apparently picking out a difficult air, and on M. de Rias, who was turning over the pages of a most melancholy piece of music. The two lovers were engaged in a rapid dialogue, spoken in low tones. 'Monsieur,' said Mile Fitzgerald, still playing on the piano, and modulating hei roice almost to a whisper. ' Mademoiselle.' ' What is the matter with you ? You look like a martyr.' •I am a martyr.' 1 And why a martyr, Monsieur ?' 'Do you not sec?' ' I see nothing unusual.' ' Wo are hero under tho guard of a dragon. Your mother's whims are ridiculous.' ' Monsieur, you know what my mother thinks of the proprieties of society. Do you not yourself bow to tho mandates of the same society ?' •I certainly "bow to tho mandates of ■ocietv — when I find it convenient t5 do ao. But frankly, Mademoiselle, your mother — ' ' Monsieur, you must not say anything against my mother.' . ' I adore your mother. But really it ■eetna to me she ought to bo contented with watching us for the last two months, and allow us to have this last day to ourselves. Instead of doing that she places xxn in charge of a veritable Cerberus.' I Isn't my aunt amusing P' ' Not at all. She is very far from being amusing to mo.' •Take care, Monsieur! Sho ia not' deaf.' I 1 am very Borry ihe is not.' •WhyP' 'Because— well, Mademoiselle, you know I have a thouiaud things to say to you.' • Well, lay them to me. I'll put on the pedal.' M. de Rins bent down to whisper in the ear of his nffianced one of the thousand things which ho had to Bay to her, when a look from the Countess, more fixed and ■tern than any with" which she had yet favoured tho couple, suddenly paralyzed him. At the same tinu the old hidy ■topped knitting and spoke: 'My children.' sho said, 'come to mt>.' Ol Conns the children dutifully went. • f have hoard it said,' sho continued, 'bv learned men— nnd my short personal experience cofiGiu" tlie truth of the saying — that tho best part of the happiest marriage is the day before the wedding. It teems to me, therefore, perfectly absurd that you should not enjoy this happiest day of your lives. I therefore make use of the plenary power which your mother

linß jjivm lo mo, my dear, (o hand to you 'be keys of the park. It is a beautiful evening. Gonmlwnlk. Go, my children, and walk ' iM'lle Marie suddenly became very red. She was really bluOnng ' But, aunt,' she .nurmurcd, rather feebly. The old lady, without answering, took ler l)y Hie hand nnd gently pii'-lxd her nit of tlic open window, near which she was seated, nnd which opened on the grand pink of (he chateau. Lionel followed her quickly, after ki^^incr the hand of the crabbed but benevolent fairy. Once in the open air the two lovers, like captive birds suddenly released from •htir c>m"« 100 l rd n round tin in in astonishment, "-cnrccly able to realize their liberty. Tlu y looked ill each other ithd Uuclied, fanly owicomo by their novel position. Fmnllv, M'lle Fit/ecrald took the arm vihieh Lionel offered her. As 'hey walked slowly towards the nearest pathway in the pnrk, a window from the upper story of the- chateau suddenly opened. ' 'Tis your mother,' cried Lionel. 'We are lost,,' and overcoming the feeble resistance of the girl he drew her into a shady with to the vide of the main passage. Soon tiny nrrivod at the first open spaco in the prove, where they paused to take breath. M'llo Fuzsierald, banning on the nrm of Lionel, panlmg. and with a fnce in which fiar was plainly visible. She whimpered in a frightened tone, ' Monsieur, do yo\i think nnvhody «nw us ?' ' I haven't tho leu^t doubt that some one iaw us ' My mother ?' ' I certainly thought that I recognised her ' ' What — what — do you think — she — will-do?! ' I suppose she will «end for the police,' They both began laughing like two lovers, as they were. Suddenly their merriment was the young girl. who •xclaimed, ' Listen ! I liear some one !' M. de 11 as listened, lliero was no i doubt about it. Some one was moving among the trees. 'We are pursued,' he •-aid. 'Well. Mademoiselle, what faliall we do? Hiall -no surrender?' ' So soon ?' she asked, reproach fully. rlher Ihe footsteps approached nearer, and the couple scampered away like two deer surpass! by tie hunter*. They plunged nto a footpath "which wound toward a ncghboriiiy, cojw. In this copse they nalkc d for snuio time with a rapid gait, the young man being in advance, and busih/ employed in pushing away th< branches and ilearing the path for bis companion, the tnoat intervals laughine henrli'v as only lovers can laugh, at their ludicous position. Suddenly she saw him stop and lower his jicad among the foliage, They were but a few steps from in avenue in tin 1 park at which tin wooded foot pit It ended 4 Why do you slop. Monsieur ?' a^lce Vf'llo Fitzgerald, sofily, ' Do you see any thing?' ' Sli ! T <!oe your revered undo. They have probably .sent him to keep u> comjrmy. He is looking to the right and 'o the left. Ah, he is coming this way tli le yourself^ Near by w\s a group of two or then ancient oaks, festooned with ivy, the trunks ol nhich were nearly gone. Lionel quickly concdalcd himself behind these irees, while the young girl knell, on th< green moss which carpeted the roots. they remained several minutes in silence he standing with a finger on his lips and looking at her. sho palpitating, and rolled up like a bill Ti his <\ el, but looking up ■it, him with me sweet face lull of tenderness and innocence. Count Patrick, however, although dispatched by Madamo Fit/gerald with •in ;mperativo injunction to put an untimely end to the unseemly tete-a-tete of her daughter and prospective son-in law, looked vaguely around him, os many •mother man has done who undertook a .•ommis-ion in tho fulfilment of which he had no heart. lie paused one last time to listen, and then making a gesture with Ins head and hand, to indicate that he up tho chase, disappeared as suddenly as he hud come. Lionel, having assured himself of the enemy's retreat trorn the avenue, called to M'lle Fil/gerald, who joined him at once. ' And now, Monnieur,' she said, ' what do you propose to do ?' ' I propose to continue our walk, here ulone benenth the broad blue sky. Is it not charming ?' 'Yes, it is beautiful,' she said. 'Come now, and let mo show you some of the places which I love in this dear old p^rk ' ' I don't know,' said Lionel, ' that I can trust you. You might lose me in these grand old woods.' • iNo. no.' she laughingly replied, 'don't bo afraid of that.' II 0 followed tho steps of the beautiful maiden, who again entered tho copse She wore little slippers wit'a high heels and silver buckles, which seomed to be but poorly adapted for an excursion in the forest. Lionel watered with a curious interest these little slippers raising and settling on tho ground with an elasticity and firmness which despised all obstacles, leaping over roots, crushing down the brushwood, and losing themselves at times in the masses of dry leaves, only to reappear once again triumphant. They reached tho bordei-3 of a running stream, to cross which it was necessary to traverse a series of lurgo stones, which the wet moss which (overcd them rendered very slippery. M'llo Fitzgerald passed this natural bridge like a bird. Lionel was less fortunnte. His foot slipped in the middle of tho stream and ho was forced to endure a partial bath. J3ut for M'lle Fitzgerald, who came to his rescue and pulled him to the opposite side of the stream, while her bud, ringing laugh awoko tho echoes far and near, his discomfiture would havo been complete. She led him gaily from grove to grove, from knoll to valley, pausing at her foTourue spots, wild and picturesque scenes which appealed to her yountf and i'ivid imagination, nnd all of which hlio had c rislened by appropriate names. There was ' The Ball room,' which was a gludo mtign fiontly decorated with pendant convolvuli ; tlinn tho '.Hermits Chapel,' not far from ' Tho Fairies' Circle.' She exhibited for his admiration ths sombre ' Criminal's Pool,' an old piece of muddy water, which really seemed to conceal sorno sinister secret beneath its gloo/ny surfuco ; and, finally, ' The Secret Bridge,' so named because it was seriously suspected of having some mysterious connection with the ' Criminal's Pool.'

These smnli episodes of f Tic* trip served ns texts for pleasant reflections ; for silly polemical r'i9f*niir'sp<? ; in short, for r"1»i lei I *-li talk whirl 1 is not worthy of reproduction in this c(ory bnf in winch the two younp lovers tonic rreat delight, for when lovr (infers the piano the air plnyrd nmonnf Ito hut little and with tlio delicious accom pnniment of Cupid every song becomes melorlv. Ai loncth M'lle Mario ronmlted her watch nnd cried out- ' Monsieur, wolinve henn two hours away from the chateau ! We must return.' ' T nm "O sorry,' s«id Lionel, plaintively ' Are you ?' «nid Mnrie in the same tone JVofwitlisfpnding the su'h which nceompnnird the response she did not the ]»« phooso the most direct, route to refrain the chafen'i. The nenrer they nppronched the house the morn silent they heenme Their eonvprsntion whf-n if was resumed w«s not of the lieht, and niry mture vilieh hnd ohnrncten'sed it nt first. Thrv hod renehed the ' Flm Terrnee,' which honlered on the public road, when Lionel evolnimed • ' Oh ' how mv mind wnq trouHed the first time flint, T pn^etl by this terrace!' ' Tnderd ! nnd why «o?' 'Hecnmc I wns nfrnid thnt you wouV 1 not like me. And I had nrood cause ; for the truth is, Mademoiselle, that you do no* like me ' ' Tndecd. Monsiiiir ! Tt seems tn mo — ' She ended her speech with a look and a Mali ' Ye«i.' he said mournfully, 'You are reoitrned to your fate since— Mademoiselle tell me the truth. You did not like me nt first ' ' What, makes you think cop' • Your reception of me ; it wrs horrible. You pretended even not, to see me ' 'Tlin^ was because I had Been yon alrrn^v ' 1 What, you hnd seen — ' ' Just here ,' she said, pointing lo the road. ' I was here,' pointing to an ancient elm. ' TJ"ow !' exclaimed Lionel, ns he afTeo'edly east her hand from his arm, ' so young and vet so perfidious '' There wns a pause, M'lle Marie wns ♦he first to hrenk it. 'Do you believe.' | sh* 1 said, ' that what my aunt said is true I — thnt ' the best v>nrt of the hnr-piest mnrriace is the day hefo c the wedding ? " ' T am very much tempted to believe 'f just now,' he answered, pressing her hand. ' for it, seems to me impossible to rxpe rirneo an hour more full of happiness than this ' ' T think you are right in that, M. de Ilin- . TJut can we not, if we will, be al«nys as happy as we nre now?' Ife stopped her on the terrace,, clapped her two hands in Ms, nnd as he looked info I'c r bfftming eye« snid. in a tone of profound emotion, 'If to lovo you, Mnrie, is -ill thnf is required, yes ; wo will be nlwiiy linppy. for T love you with my <vluile soul ' His voice faired. ' T love yon,' he repented. TTe drew her to him •md i?azed lontr and tenderly info her li<«r beautiful eyes. TTis fnce suddenly chanced, wore a straneelv serious expression, nnd Mario raised her face beautiful and pale, to the young man, who imprinted upon it tho first long kiss of eternal love.

CiuvTFn TV. To imiL'inc tlmfc Madame Fif/gerald overwhelmed the two fugitive* with angry reproaches would be to do her the utmost injustice. Sho was wounded b7 an esenpndo which did violence to all her notions of tho proprieties of society and the requirements of hk-h life; but to have exaggerated tho gravity of tlio occasion would have been to her the extreme of I) id laste. She contented herself with slinmginfj lier shoulders and laughing when sho met tho two criminals 'My children,' sho said to them, ' you are ridiculous. You have behaved like two lovers trom the country.' 'Mnmmii,' cried Marie, as she threw herself into her arms, 'Wo only did as iiunt told us.' 1 But your aunt, my darling, is a savage. You ought to know that. She has never moved in high socioty. Sho is a wild woman of tho forest. Your aunt — but novor mind.' In the afternoon and in tho evening tho chateau wns the scmo of unwonted anim ation. Tho different trains from Puns b'OUL'ht in succession, relatives, friends, > witnesses and maids of honor with their Imggago. The continual rolling of carriages in the court-yard, the exclamations of welcomo, the laughter of young girls, the cries of tho servants, tho noiHe made by tho trunks on tho staircases, all contributed to create a tumult and a confusion which is indescribable. Madame Fitzgerald and her daughter, aided by Count Patrick, devoted themselves to receiving thoir guests, guiding them through the labyrinths of the corridor*, and assigning them to thoir respective chambers. Lionel, in his role as a bridegroom, acquitted himself with graceful courtesy, although in his heart this part of the ceremony seemed to him of mediocre interi'St. Only one person remained aloof from all this stir and bustlo. It was tho Countess Jules, who, seated in her Favourite window continued to knit, knit, with a serenity which nothing could disturb. To tdis violent domestic disturbance tho pleasant rustle of long robos training through the corridors, and avalanches of silk on the staircases soon succeeded. A royal dinner ro-united all tho guests in a large dining-room in the midst of odoriferous foliage and flowers, from which they passed into the saloon, imbued with that cxpansivo humor, and that mutuul sympathy which in all social conditions and in all latitudes aro tho natural consequences of a comfortable repast. Whilo the coffee was being taken Mademoiselle Fitzgerald came to the concluI sion that it was her duty to present her affianced husbnnd to two young wives, tho Duchess d'Estreny and Madamo df> Mogos, w ho wero, like Madamo de Lauris, her cousins and her schoolmates in childhood. Madamo do Moges was a luuglung noisy woman, in whoan deep black eyes at times shone a whimsical, cren wild expression. 'My donr,' sho said in her sharp voice, to Mademoiselle Fitzgerald, 'the first timo you go to tho Bimffes Pansiennes or tho Palais Royal you must take mo with you. I want to enjoy your first impressions. Tt is very amusing. But you will see. I myself married in orJcr that I might go to these light theatres, but I am beginning to lose all interest in them now. Tho fact is, my

Icar, my husband has crammed mo with tliem.' 'Tfyou please,, my Hoar,' snid M. dc VTngc, who nppronchcd nt this moment ' You sco, Midcmoisello, 1 hnvo a system m these things ' This was aaid in 11 vory grave tone, lor M. de Moges was ono of those to whom w inn gives dignify. 'I in <ist that my wife *-hall partake of nil my plensures. Tnm not nn egotist T have my tastes, but 1 nllow my wife to share them. For instance. I love the lighter I hen* res. where small jokes are cracked Shnll I deny my wife the pleasure which T allow myself? No. T take her with me, T enjoy th* races and I lake her there, T nm fond of (h<» opera, and T insist on ray wife's enjoying her'clf with me there Sometimes after the hall I goto supper with a few friends. She always makes one of us. TV.c wife should alwnys be the, companion of tho huiband. That is my system.' i 1 Oh, you are ernzy with your xyslpm !' exclaimed Mrtie de Moges, as she turned on her heel and went away laughing. The duchess d'Estreny was n blonde, feeble, but extremely elegant, with languid, almost °ad eyes. Sim mourned because her husband, the Duke, who undoubtedly loved her. did not love her for tho sake of love. "When M. do fiias was introduced to her by her cousin she gazed at him with nn air of doleful interest; then kissing M'lle Fitzgerald tenderly, she snid in solemn tones ' Love her, monsieur; love her dearly. You will, will you not ?' ' Yea,' shouted a sonorous, but jovial voice behind them ; but for heaven's snke love her for the sake of love, my friend ; everything is in that. Do you see, my denr Lionel continued the Duke d'Estreny who was a finely built man with a large neck, ' you imut love the women for themselves, or elso you hnd better let them alone For rryself. lam constantly disgusting my little duchess here beenuse I do not love for love's suke and do not write eerses for her It is a misfortune, but T can't write verses. What would you have? T am a fool. T — ean-not--write.-ver-sps !' And he pronounfed the last phrase as if he monnt it to be understood that if he did not write verses he took his revenge by being one of the most distinguished prose-writers. During this tirnde the Dnchrss removed her gloves, and dallied with her ring with an air of supreme contempt. When the Duke hnd fini/hed his jocular speech she calmly turned to Mile- Fitzgerald and simply said ; ' Shall we go ?' Tho two ladie" wont to the piano. The Duchess aolftCO 1 her indignant feelings fust by piny ing the chromatic scale, then tho measures of a melting waltz, which floated into tho furthest recesses of tho largo salon and set tho heart of every bridesmaid palpitating. A little, later in the evening Lionel seated himself beside Madame de la Veyle *ho was assisting at this family party with the air of ono to whom all tho credit of its success was due. ' My dear godmother,' said the young man. in a aerious tone, 'is there yet time to break offtlm engagement?' 'What!' cried Madame dn la Veyle, nearly bounding from her chair; ' brenk off tho engagement? My dear Lionel, are you ernzy ?' ' I certainly am— for M'lle Fitzgerald.' « Well, then !' At this moment M'lle Marie, who was waltzing, stopped before them, and bending before. Madamo dp la Veylo with a smilo asked softly : ' What, is he saying ?' ' Ho said, that ho was crazy to possess you.' 'The young lunatic?' said tho young girl gaily as sho waltzed tiway again with her partner. Lionel continued. ' T never appreciated that, charming girl as I have to-day. She is simple, she is true, she is tender, she is faithful. She is an exquisite creature' M'lle Fitzgerald, seeing that they were again talking of her paused for the second tune before them. 'What is ho saying?' she asked in a whisper. ' Ho says you arc an exquisite creature.' ' Ho is certainly crazy,' she laughed, as sho whisked radiantly away with her patient partner in tho waltz. 'And nevertheless, continued M. do Rias in a more confidential tone. ' I am worried to-night by tho most tormenting thoughts.' 'Tell mo your tormenting thoughts, Lionel.' 'I have seen to-night some, strange things. We have among our iuvited guests some seven or eight couples, who certainly wero not chosen for my special benefit. Tlioy are here by chance as representatives of marriage m high life; and there is not ono of tho couples who are not separated in spirit and on tho high road to disunion, Cast your eyes around you and sco if you can deny whit I say. 1 Tho widow surveyed tho s;ilon, and then smiling pleasantly said : ' You are half right, Lionel. In respect to exemplary couploi we have uot hero to-night tho (lowers of Paris. 'Well, 1 continued Lionel, 'I say to myself, and it is a bitter thing for mo to say, that all these people havo loved a.% M'llo Fitzgerald and I love now, that they havo all had tho day before tho marriage, full of charms, iull of hopes, even ai thu day is to us. And I cjncludo from all thia that there must be something m our civilizition, particularly, perhaps, in our worldly habits, some general causes which poison marriage at its source, and plants in its very heart a fatal germ, which at the outset renders stonlo tho most generous aud sincere dispositions, and which almost infallibly convercs an institution of love and peace into ono of hatred and war. These aro terrible thoughts to bo entertained by a man who is to be married to-morrow, aro they not?' ' My dear Lionel, don'b bogia to think of miduight at mid-d.iy. Thora is no general cause ; there is no fatal germ ; all that talk |ii sheer folly. I told you onco before, ' thoro ur« bid hmbandt* ;' aud that's nil thoro is to it. 1 ' But I don't accept your theory of the sul>j«ot at all,' cried Uonol. 'At nil ovcuts, it in much too ROHoluto.' ' Allow me, my young friend. Lot us tako a glance at these husbanda h«re. In the first place hero is the Duke d Eitrany. He it ft vory tiuo tn»u, no doubt. Ho is not a bad husband, if you wish it so. But he is umkllfui. His wife is « little woman, delicate and aentimental as the dew ; and ho— ho is a blacksmith— a veritable blacksmith 1 He is oontinually making sport ot her little, innootnt, romantic notion*. He wounds

lifer, he exasperate*! her ; nnd she will certainly end by finding mmi one who will ■inpreciate her. Then we have the little Do Moges ' ' Oh,' snid Lionel, * I give T)e Moges np to yon. He treats his wife as he would his vale f . Ho is a, fool.' < ' Very well,' paid the Marchioness. 1 There are two. Well, the. other* are worse ii till. Yonder in a husband whose sordid avarice hns forced his wife to borrow money frr the things which she needed to sustain her position, «nd you know the evils that result from borrowing. Charny there i» not avaricious On the contrary, he has just piven a younp woman, belonging to I don't know wri.at 1 Vnri"»v Theitro, an ccjnifiifio •hat; post 'him 25 000 frimoi ; nnd his wife, moflctN driwn by a pair of hordes tha l ; cost "000 franoK, meets M 'demoiselle daily | on Hie Bois. Do you think the wife floes tint k n ow wbo paid for that turn out 9 M. ! rte Lastere is a sorions man — altogether tno ' serious. Ho wonts to be a Minister. He studies political economy. H ; s wife know» ' nothing of thin science and so he first pities, then abandons her. But ho still has compassion for her loneliness Hi sends to her all the young men whom ho meets on the Rmilevard. ' (in and *cc my wife.'he tavi. 'Oo nnd practice yonr mn«ic ■with mv wife ; she is a fine player ' That poor T.numel yonder is a nun of quiet; tastes He ii modest snd timid ; h« is afraid of hinr>K°lf ; Vio is afraid of acrrctses ; hi is afraid of women of the world, nnd even of his own wife. But he is not afraid of chambermaids They are his »010 ronsol ition. W<ll, Lionel, T think I've pone through the whole list, a' d that you ought to bo convinced of the truth of mv thpo'v.' ' T beg your pardon, madatne ; not at nil,' mid Lionel, lnnghine in spito of himself at thin pit-iiesi enumeration. 'In the first place, I cannot believe thifc the wives of all these cenHomrn are a'l aluolnte victims and re feoMy irn r cent of wrong to their husbands Besides, even should T en' Rc-ribe, to your theory, tell me, pray, where it the man who could escape being cla c flpd in one of yonr ciWnrie*. If he it neither obstinate nor a fool, then he is unskilful ; and in how many wsy« may one be unskilful in managing ft wife ?' ' There »r« a hnnrlrerl thousand ways, my flear Lionel ; snd there is on«t in partieulnr which consists in talking philosophy and Bpokin? wi^flom from an old godmother, Instead of wnl'zing with his young wifo when ho sees that she is dying to have him with her ' AoHmc on this wisp hint M. de Riis hastened to do his dnty, which had not yet rnaned to bn a plen^nre, and, backing in the blue eyes of his offiinced, he soon forgot the vexation* thout'hta which for a time had clorHerl his happ?nn"S The next flny, which was that of the wedding, *eemedl qnif-e insufFeroble to Lionel FTe hid timidly siico'eoterl to Mmc Fitzepra'd that the marrinye. civil and relipions, might bs celebrated either at mirlniuht or at. f\ o'clock in tho morning wUh none but the intims^n friends of th*> family rro«ent. But VTme F't-/<7^r«lcl had r< j»cfprl this prnpo^ikion •>s one only worthy to emnnate from a bar birian nnd which tronld invest the marri^ce "f her diiiL'h^^er wi'h a clandestine ehnrnrter The wp^dijicp, th^re'o'e, took plie* at- rnifl-d-»V to the mui>ic of tho nl'^cre bells an<l in the "nHsf of a public jolifioa^ion Pnnr T innel hi/1 to snbnuit to the curious gazn of *h*i Anllafer"! H ( > was forcpd to view the horses decked with manv-colcn'ed pnc^ncl^s. te h^ar the sonorous ppnlinp of the bell", to s<"p the new liveries and witness the joyful antics of tho valets — in short, to pas« through all tho solemn pr^n* rations and exn^ri»nco al' the briiliancv all the vulgarity of * modern Parisinn w«^rlin7, While tho religions enremonv was being performed M. de Bias oh»erved one fact which cave snm* »pr>paranc«| of rna*on t-o the theonVs of his podmoth»r. Among the ifcusrants at tho wedding he noticed that the men gonprallv assumed disinterested indifferent, or ealm'viroDical attitudes. The I wom°n, on the c^nrr^ry. were more seriou*, exhibited a kind of passionare feivor, and. bowed down on their *na*a, seemed absorbed in a mvst-^rious meditation Some weptpassionately; others seemed to remember with nngufah that; once in their lives t-hev had passed through just a scene, when they were inspired by confidence and sweethopes, and had taken upon themselves tender vows which they earnestly intended to fulfil • The programme had been originally arran ged so as to terminate the ft« by the Immediate denarture of the young enunle for Rcotlind or Trily. Bnt Madame Fitzgerald bad pleaded with her son in lnw to allow her d*ught«r some little more time at home, and M de Rias, who wis too thoroughly a Parisian to have any taste for foreign travel, h»d willingly yielded to her entreaties He repented this deoision sorely when, on the next mornine, descending to th • breakfast: table, he met a do/on friends and rela'ives whom Madame. Fitzeeraid had prev»iled unon to remnin at the chntpan In theae strange positions men the most refined are really the most emb-maMed. In such a case to smile is awkward, to hngh is out of place, dospon dency is ridiculous, an air of triumph is vnlg*r. A natural look would be the best, but that is impossible. M'me do Rias, on the contrary, mtde her anpearance with that peculiar self-pns^esiion which characterizes yonng wives of a day in Paris. She served tho tea, laughing gently and amiably. Her face wss as pure as ni'irhlo and her eves clnar and limpid. That name morning tho Countess Jules left the chateau After entering her carriage she beckoned her grand-niece to hor, kissed her for the list time. »nd left with her as a souvenir this parting maxim : ' Always remember, my dear child, that women were made to endure and men to be endured.' (To he continued )