The Argosy — page 222: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Burgomaster’s Daughter. 205 “Go,” said that triumphant old lady. ‘‘ You will find Lucille in the garden.” Flinging the ledger which he held to the floor, Jules went. TJ yowed I would never ask Monsieur Warenne again for his daughter,” said Madame. ‘But youcan ask me, I suppose,” cried the lively old lady, rising, and embracing her vanquished foe with great fervour. ‘‘I am the head of the family, and the proper person to ask; and I give my consent right heartily.” The two families dined together that day, and to tell what that meal was would require words eloquent as an angel’s tears of joy. In fact, there are no such words, either in pen and ink or in dic- tionaries ; the words that could tell it lie deep in human hearts, too deep even to be spoken by the tongue. * And to think,” said the beaming and humbled Burgomaster, ‘that we could have had this happiness so long ago—if we had only had sense enough !” “Well,” observed Madame Warenne, “I could have put you all to rights sooner if I had liked, but if ever people deserved to be made to suffer a little you all did! But for me, I should like to know where your pride would have carried you! To tell the truth, I think I had a little to do with the making of that will,” concluded the old lady, slily. Shall I finish here? No; I will tell you one thing more. Jules Bastoigne is a great man now. He became a deputé, or member for his own province; he signalised himself greatly in parliament, and rose to a high position—rose rapidly; his genius for business, his energetic promptitude, his calmness and clear-sightedness, Dene qualities that Ze//, Now transport yourselves to the magnificent salon of an am- bassador at Bruxelles, and overhear with me this short dialogue. “Who is that graceful and beautiful woman?” asks a languid lady, of a weary and irritable aspect—‘‘ I mean the one leaning on the arm of the celebrated deputé.” The languid lady is Madame d’Harscamp. Her husband puts up his eye-glass, then drops it, with a sudden change on his pallid, fashionable face. ‘*'That is the celebrated deputy’s wife, Madame Bastoigne, Yes, she was, and is, very beautiful.” With a weary sigh, he lets the eye-glass fall from his fingers, and the air of the room being suddenly oppressive, he is glad to find him- self left alone, as the guests crowd round Lucille and her husband. The Burgomaster, from his nook in the Ardennes, looks on his son-in-law’s career with the utmost satisfaction. ‘* After all,” he says, “‘I did succeed in the great Sect of my ambition ; my daughter has married a gentleman.” CONIIClOO© SS (CO) im =)