Fabiola : or, The church of the catacombs - Digital Repository Services

i uitc so new to her to admire George's dark eyes and thoughtful
blow She remembered how often by steal! li she had looked nC
linn a' Ii.-i!iini-i|iict. Slu- thought of those melancholy momenta
when nothing but a few cold unmeaning words passed their lips
ami cnioved a suence which seemed to express more than either
o' them could utter just then.
But when the meal was linished they held a consuitatiou, still
sitting under the acacia trees. What should they do? George's
parents were expecied that evening at La Piuede Shouid they
wait for them or return to Belbousquet? Rose blushed and said,
" '
What would you nke to do?
" :
What I should like he said. wouid be to stroll slowly,
very slowly, through the woods to our _'ttie viua to borrow for
your Matthias' donkey which we can bring uacK to-morrow to
take with us some provisions and dine in ttie ci.ve grove by the
side of a well 1 have often sketched to rest at coon m the shade,
'
and arrive at home tale in the afternoon
Rose did not answer- a large tear roiled down her cheek and
fed on one of the wallflowers she held .n her hand. George took
the uowers from her and said
"
Wha' makes you cry Rosa; DC tell me I want to know."
''It is nothing she, said, raising her tearful eyes to his, and
smiling I am so glad you are come back '
and she gently laid
her hand on his with so deep a blush that for a moment she looked
as rosy as ever
"But then, why do you cry?" he asked again kissing her
smaii hand.
'
Oh, I cannot explain it."
"
But you ought to tell me. you know that I must always be
your best friend your comforter. Rose '
She smiled and said '1 cried very often during those days
at Belbousquet, only you did not notice it.'
" Oh. will you ever forgive the odious, sulky, unkind wretch
who treated you so ih svho was so cold and so unjust to you,
ivlio was determined to think you hated him? Oh my dear Rose,
"
will never know, you will never understand
llj hid his face in his hands and remained silent
" George," she gently said, " I know I understand it all. I
know what you have felt what you have suffered, and I am glad
t:i it it. was one so good, so holy that you loved. We can think
of her and speak of, her together as if she was an angel protect-
ing us."
George 'oiked up greatly surprised
her' How did you hear? '."
Till-; .\01'AIil" DACGUTVR.
" Who told you about
'
Oh, if you knew how I have gazed on her picture, wishing
t had been like her, and repeated to myself those lines beginning,
"
If thou hadst been the guiding light.'
You are a little wnch, Rose '
agitated- '
George exclaimed, rather
no one bin myself ever knew of those lines."
Oh, 8iri it took a long time to put together the little bits of
paper scattered
with a smne.
on the grass behind the old bench," Rose said
So you know all and you forgive me. Then you are a per-
'
tect i angel
Oh no. '
he exclaimed.
she answered, "it is so easy to forgive when one is
to order the donkey and to store a basket with their noonday
meal
Rose sat on, wondering at the change which a few short hours
had effected in her life. The scenes of the last night imparted a
solemn and affecting character to this new-found happiness. Old
Vincent's dying wish was amply fulfilled. She looked up at the
windows of the room where the old man had died, and breathed a
prayer for his soul. Just then the sound of a horse's feet in the
avenue startled her, and turning he> eyes that way sho saw a
man trotting up the avenue. As he reached Hie bottom of the
ten-ace she saw him tie his horse to a tree, and rapidly mount the
steps
It was Artemon Richer. He cnme up fo her with a broad
smile on his face, and began wilh great volubility to express his
anxiety at hearing that she was alone at La Piuede, and that
some one had died there in the night."
" It was a horribie thing '
he said, " that a/1 this anxiety and
trouble should have devolved upon her. tie had heard at Bel-
bousquet where he had called to pay his respects, that M le
Baron was absent from home, that none of his family were at La
Pinede, and M Lescalle on an electioneering tour, and it had occurred
to him that the services of a friend might- be acceptable,
or, at any rate '
he added with a deep sigh, and a. very sentimental
expression of countenance, ''the intense sympathy of one
who could never cease to feel a most respectful solicitude for
her happiness, and an ardent desire to relieve her of any cares or
trouble which, in her loneliness, must so heavily weigh upon her
mind '
Rose partly from fatigue, and partly from the sad and then
joyful emotions she had undergone was in that state where tears
and laughter are both readily excited. There was something so
ridiculous in the affectation of profound sensibility which the
jolly and impudent Artemon assumed, and which suited so ill with
his broad, handsome, bill vulgar face, that her risible nerves were
stimulated beyond control, and to hide that she was bursting with
laughter she put her hankerchief before her mouth. The siuht
of the haukcrchief raised to her face instantly convinced Artemon
that she was deeply affected by his sympathy, and he was
beginning a speech with the exclamation of "Ah, madame, "
the sequel of which was abruptly cut short by the appearance of
George, who came out of the house to announce that the donkey
was at the door, and the basket of provisions read}'.
lie started at the sight of Artemon, anil so did that gentleman.
Ro 12 stood up, and commanding her countenance as well as she
could, she said to her husband
"
M. Richer called to offer me his services about the arrangements
with regard to poor Vincent's funeral. It was very kind
"
of him. He did not know you had returned.
The corners of Rose's little mouth gave visible signs that she
would not be able much longer to keep her countenance
George, on the contrary, made a very formal courteous bow to
M. Richer, and thanked him for his civility with a scif possession
and dignity of manner that took the disappointed Aitemon
entirely by surprise.
"Oh, of course," he said, "as M. le Baron was at home there
could be no occasion for any other assistance. Still, if he could
be of any use he hoped, as a neighbor, they would command his.
"
services and Tor once in his life Artemon became confused,
and broke off in the middle of his civil speech rather abruptly,
and with a heightened col r.
George spoke calmly and civilly to the embarrassed visitor,
hinted that his wife and himself must at once set out on their
homeward way, and begged him to excuse their leaving him, at
the same lime begging him to rest his horse and take some
happy and 1 think you have also something to forgive."
George looked " "
up anxiously. Had you. Rose, cared
'
For any one else before I married you? Oh, no, never; but,
George, that look when you spoke to me at the Capucins, which
made you write that terrible letter, I am so sorry I ever looked
at you in that way.
'
Never mind how you looked at me then, Rose, so that you
will often look at me as you are doing now.'
And thus they talked on for some time and then George went
refreshment.
As Rose looked at these two men as they stood side by side, and
contrasted the vulgar, gigantic bourgeois with the refined, pale,
and sensitive young man of high birth and gentle breeding who
was speaking to him, the thought of au she had escaped, of all
that had been given to her rushed upon her mind, and this time
it was tears, not laughter, she had to hide.
Artemon bowed departed, and rode down the avenue. Once
he looked back, and the picture which met his eyes was.
mounted on her donkey and George passing the bridle on his aim.
He saw her lovely face turned toward her husband with a a k
of inexpressible sweetness and peaceful contentment, and his at-
titude of unmistakable fond atention to his little wife Did this
sight enrage him, or did it give him an entirely new idea as to
love and marriage an idea tending to make him a somewhat
better man, and possibly, when he, too, married later on, a better