The Argosy — page 383: what you’re looking at

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

360 The Curé’s Sister. shall see the noble blood is in me, hidden though it be by my peasant culture.” In all his life, I doubt if the Count had ever sorrowed for the passion and the disobedience of his youth as he did now. But his tongue faltered, and he could not speak, as he held his child tightly by hey small hand, and gazed into her face. “Friends,” said Léonie, in that wonderfully clear voice of hers ; ‘You know my history, and knowing it you will pardon me, that un- like a lady—for I am not taught like you—I gave way to my own feelings to-day instead of considering yours. Forgive me! I know so little. My world has been so small, that until lately my heart has held all my universe.” She curtsied low, and clung to her father with both hands, overcome with a sudden timidity, being startled, as it were, by her own courage in speaking. Herapology was so humble, her manner and appearance so graceful, yet so unlike the conventional pattern to which the world is used, that all were charmed by the very singularity of her wild out- burst and gentle defence ; and, had fashion allowed it, all hands would have clapped her, as her clear accents ceased. ‘The young Count’s wounded vanity was smoothed again, and he cried out cheerfully : ‘Let us begin the ball! I will go and fetch my mother.” When Madame de St. Erme re-appeared, her eyes were swelled and reddened ; but seeing her daughter so calm again, she rallied, and the ball passed off with fitting spirit. Never was Léonie so attentive to her mother as on this night ; bu2 I observed that when the dance with the bridegroom, which etiquette required, was over, she avoided him, and her face paled even at the sound of his voice. Balls are early in the Ardennes, and it was not much past midnight when the carriages drove away, leaving in the chateau myself and a few other guests, who were to be present next morning at the marriage ceremony. Léonie went to rest early. Her mother’s arm was round her, and they both smiled. ‘Good night,” said Madame. ‘ Farewell!” said Léonie, and putting out her hand, she touched mine, and I found a note in my palm. Looking at it, when alone In my room, I read on the envelope, ‘‘ Do not open this until to-morrow, when I am gone.” ‘Tt is some message for ‘hem, to be given when she has departed with her husband,” I said to myself; and, respecting her wish, I placed the letter in my pocket-book. IX. WHAT was it awoke mein the morning? It was a sense of suffoca- tion—a great horror—a feeling like the touch of a dead hand upon my face—and, starting up, I trembled, asking myself what ha@ ECOMICLIOOL KS, (E00)