Deeds of Daring Done by Girls

by N. Hudson Moore

I

“Good-bye,” she said.

And then again, “Good-bye.”

The voice of the young girl was choked with sobs, and tears rolled slowly down her cheeks.

“Good-bye, dear garden; good-bye, dear home”; and as she spoke she stopped and looked up at the old grey chateau which the warm afternoon sun had made glow with tints of rose and gold.

She made a pretty picture standing there, even though her eyes were red with weeping, for her clustering curls were drawn high on her graceful head with a great comb, the lack of powder letting their bright chestnut tones shine in the warm evening light. A gaily flowered gown of simple muslin, less ample in its cut than the style affected by those who lived nearer the court, was fashioned so as to show a slender white throat. The delicate ruffles at elbow and neck showed that even in the country Mechlin, the lace of the hour, had its wearers.

Looking about, eyes even less partial than hers would cease to be surprised that parting with so fair a scene should cause such grief. To Clemence Valvier the chateau was home. There she was born, had grown to girlhood, and though but seventeen was not only a wife, but the mother of a tiny child for whose sake she was preparing to leave parents, country, home, and friends, and seek that little known land across the sea where so many of her countrymen had gained a footing in the wilderness.

The pointed turrets of the chateau stood out sharply against the deep blue of the afternoon sky, and the glass panes in the small windows sparkled as the late sunbeams rested on them. On one side huge vines of ivy clambered up the rough stones till they reached the roof, and amid their hospitable leaves sheltered many a nest of linnet and of sparrow, whose cheerful songs made music at morning and at sunset.

Clemence stood in the garden looking sadly at the roses whose sweet profusion was due in no small measure to her care. There was the garden seat; here the sun-dial; yonder, above the wall which bounded the garden, rose the dove-cote, around which constantly hovered some of her feathered pets.