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Article THE NEW MORALITY. ← Page 2 of 2 Article MONSIEUR LE BARON. Page 1 of 4 →
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The New Morality.
Which still can virtue praise and censure vice , Which don't confound what ' s true with what is nice , But sternly reprobate , under whatever name , Folly's regime , effrontery's brazen claim . MENTOR . ( To be continued !)
Monsieur Le Baron.
MONSIEUR LE BARON .
( Concluded from page 18 . j After that , when the vesper bells were ringing , Celeste always sat hi her attic room and sang . She left her door open , that the Baron might hear ; and to him the song of " the bird under the roof , " as
he still called her , grew daily more clear . The Baron ' s character was changed ; he thought oftener of Celeste than was at all pleasant : he wrote to her again , but . the letter was returned after some time with the words " not called for" in pencil , on the hack .
" Where could she be ? Dead , perhaps , of starvation ; he had heard of such things . With an eagerness that surprised himself he plunged into the vortex of pleasure that seethes and whirls in the gay capital . There he found forgetfuhiess . Stillwhen he heard that clear voice
sing-, ing , tender thoughts would come , and , strangely enough , he cherished them . The human heart is terribly contradictory . When Celeste stood before him only waiting for Ids love , that love it seemed impossible to give , and the probabilities
are , that should she so stand again , he would again turn from her . Many people wish that they might " live their lives over again ; " in nine cases out of ten they would only repeat ; them . But now that Celeste was
gone—for-, ever , it appears , —he yearned after her love , and his heart stirred strangely at the old remembrances . His new friends urged a more fashionable residence , hut the Baron shook his head . Ho could not tell them
that the vesper hymn , associated as it was with Celeste ' s memory , kept him where he was . Once there was a gay party at dinner . The Baron was the life of the assemblywhen , hark !—above the clatter of tongues and the click of the glasses , came the sound
of a woman s voice singing a hymn to the virgin . He ceased speaking , and the guests looked at one another . "Baron , are you ill ? " asks one , anxiously . " No , no ! " and he laughed lightly .
" What was it you were saying , my friend ? Hansel , more wine . " But ever and anon his voice faltered a little , and he wished to himself that his good friends would not talk quite so loud ; he could not hear a note . Then the song ended , and the Baron
breathed more freely , but he was distrait and unlike himself , and his guests left early . The next day was his birthday . No one knew it . He scarcely remembered it himself till old Picot came stumbling along the corridor with some flowers in his hand—beautiful violets , white and blue , the Baron ' s favourite flowers .
"They were left at the gate . It is Monsieur ' s birthday , is it not ? " " Who left them , good Picot ?" The old man chuckled softly . " There was no name , Monsieur . " " Strange ! " murmured the Baron , and Picot made haste to retire before more questions should be asked . But a few days later he stopped Celeste as she passed him .
" I will have no more secrets , Mademoiselle , " he said , pettishly . ' Monsieur has done nothing but pester me with questions all these days . I will do nothing more for you . No , no , do not talk ; you will ' good Picot' me into more trouble . " And he turned his back on her with an air
of great resolution . Celeste laughed a little . She was much happier . Lately she could often hear the Baron ' s voice ; once in a long while she saw him ; she could not speak to him , to be sure ; but if she could , what had she to say ? It is well to be content .
One evening , one of the Baron ' s countrymen was with him . They had been neighbours in their youth ; their lands joined ; altogether he was more nearly a friend than any of those around him . To him he complained of his fits of depression , his loneliness .
"My dear Baron , you should marry . Here am I not yet your age , and my Adolf is already betrothed . One must take interest in something ; it is well when one has children . "
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
The New Morality.
Which still can virtue praise and censure vice , Which don't confound what ' s true with what is nice , But sternly reprobate , under whatever name , Folly's regime , effrontery's brazen claim . MENTOR . ( To be continued !)
Monsieur Le Baron.
MONSIEUR LE BARON .
( Concluded from page 18 . j After that , when the vesper bells were ringing , Celeste always sat hi her attic room and sang . She left her door open , that the Baron might hear ; and to him the song of " the bird under the roof , " as
he still called her , grew daily more clear . The Baron ' s character was changed ; he thought oftener of Celeste than was at all pleasant : he wrote to her again , but . the letter was returned after some time with the words " not called for" in pencil , on the hack .
" Where could she be ? Dead , perhaps , of starvation ; he had heard of such things . With an eagerness that surprised himself he plunged into the vortex of pleasure that seethes and whirls in the gay capital . There he found forgetfuhiess . Stillwhen he heard that clear voice
sing-, ing , tender thoughts would come , and , strangely enough , he cherished them . The human heart is terribly contradictory . When Celeste stood before him only waiting for Ids love , that love it seemed impossible to give , and the probabilities
are , that should she so stand again , he would again turn from her . Many people wish that they might " live their lives over again ; " in nine cases out of ten they would only repeat ; them . But now that Celeste was
gone—for-, ever , it appears , —he yearned after her love , and his heart stirred strangely at the old remembrances . His new friends urged a more fashionable residence , hut the Baron shook his head . Ho could not tell them
that the vesper hymn , associated as it was with Celeste ' s memory , kept him where he was . Once there was a gay party at dinner . The Baron was the life of the assemblywhen , hark !—above the clatter of tongues and the click of the glasses , came the sound
of a woman s voice singing a hymn to the virgin . He ceased speaking , and the guests looked at one another . "Baron , are you ill ? " asks one , anxiously . " No , no ! " and he laughed lightly .
" What was it you were saying , my friend ? Hansel , more wine . " But ever and anon his voice faltered a little , and he wished to himself that his good friends would not talk quite so loud ; he could not hear a note . Then the song ended , and the Baron
breathed more freely , but he was distrait and unlike himself , and his guests left early . The next day was his birthday . No one knew it . He scarcely remembered it himself till old Picot came stumbling along the corridor with some flowers in his hand—beautiful violets , white and blue , the Baron ' s favourite flowers .
"They were left at the gate . It is Monsieur ' s birthday , is it not ? " " Who left them , good Picot ?" The old man chuckled softly . " There was no name , Monsieur . " " Strange ! " murmured the Baron , and Picot made haste to retire before more questions should be asked . But a few days later he stopped Celeste as she passed him .
" I will have no more secrets , Mademoiselle , " he said , pettishly . ' Monsieur has done nothing but pester me with questions all these days . I will do nothing more for you . No , no , do not talk ; you will ' good Picot' me into more trouble . " And he turned his back on her with an air
of great resolution . Celeste laughed a little . She was much happier . Lately she could often hear the Baron ' s voice ; once in a long while she saw him ; she could not speak to him , to be sure ; but if she could , what had she to say ? It is well to be content .
One evening , one of the Baron ' s countrymen was with him . They had been neighbours in their youth ; their lands joined ; altogether he was more nearly a friend than any of those around him . To him he complained of his fits of depression , his loneliness .
"My dear Baron , you should marry . Here am I not yet your age , and my Adolf is already betrothed . One must take interest in something ; it is well when one has children . "