American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1874-07-04
CLARA MARCHANT'S ROSES.

On, dear, Mr.. Hunt, how you startled
mer' said Miss Marchant, as she turne,
around from the open window of he
pretty sitting-room to greet a gentleman
who was entering the door. See my
poor roses are ali flying right and leftr'
beg your pardon. let me help you,
said Mr.. Hunt, STOPPING to collect the
lovely blossoms of a climbing rose which
had just been gathered.
but they are all going up town t,
Lady Merriman's," explained Miss Mar
chant, "to deck her rooms for the ball
Oh, dear, l should like to go with them
No, should not! Stupid things ball.
are and yet, Mr. Hunt, let me tell you
in confidence, l feel terribly dull down
here"
Strange words to come from the lips OF
Miss Clara Marchant the rich stockhold.
er's daughter and sole heiress of the
beautiful house and grounds called Bar
ton Towers, which had lately been pur-
chased by Mr.. Marchant. Strange, but
true; she was dull. The routine to which
she had been accustomed for the last five
years of ball and party, dinner and drive,
had been disturbed by the move from
London to the country, which had been
ing health.
"Come, Mr. Hunt" she said, gayly,
you tell us in the pulpit not to be dis
cOntented with our lives, but to make the
best of them; now, do tell me what l
ought to do. l have lived quarter of a
century, and yet l have not found out
for myself have only one duty-look-
ing after my father; but most part of the
day he prefers his valet to me, SO have
a great deal of time in which to make
myself unhappy"
Al
was an air of truth about her words, and
Mr.. Hunt, the good clergyman, felt sorry
for her.
I" can't tcach-children worry me; /
don't like dirty houses, and l never gave
away a tract in my life," continued Miss
Marchant; g SO don't ask me to do any
those things"
Let me help you to put up those
flowers" said Mr.. Hunt; and for a few
minutes the two were busy laying
the beautiful roses in soft beds of cotton
wool.
PITY they should wither in Lady Mer-
riman's hot rooms" said Clara Mar
chant. But, after all, it is better than
to leave them nOdding their heads off in
my gassei with no one to smell them or
II quite agree with you," said Mr..
Hunt, laughing. And now may have
one for my pains?"
:. And And he chose chose. !, a lovely nearly-blown
"Oh, yes, but not that it is too widely
opened for your button-hole. Here is a
little beauty-take this" said Miss Mar
chant.
Il hold to my first choice" said Mr.
Hunt; " it is not for my button-hole, but
for one of my sick people"
"Oh, sick" said Clara Marchant, con-
by the way, suppose in the
they expect certain amount of
soup and kitchen physic from the great
house, don't they? Well, you must tell
me, and 1 will speak to the house
keeper I am new to the work." she
added, smiling.
"You are very kind" said Mr.. Hunt;
will come to you when such things are
needed. Were you going out. Twas go
ing to ask your permission to cross the
to the lower woods; it will
save me half a mile"
81 will come with you!" said Miss Mar
chant.
And the two set out on their walk.
Mr.. Hunt stopped at last at a tiny
house by the roadside, outside the
grounds.
/" Here go in," he said "Good-by"
No; you promised to come back and
advise me about the ferneries," said Miss
Marchant; 81 will sit on this low wall and
Wait for you l suppose you have some
sick old woman there?"
Mr. Hunt smiled and left her. When
he came out of the cottage he was ac-
by a young man-quite young
Dut piteous to look upon, since he bore in
MS face the sure sign of coming death.
It might be near, it might be far, but it
must come.
Miss Marchant will excuse my asking
|. favor for YOU" said Mr.. Hunt, looking
rom one to the other; but it would be
,reat thing for my friend, Mr.. Lawrence,
% have permission to rest in your shrub
berries this hot weather; he has to thank
you for the rose"
"Oh, no." said Miss Marchant, hastily;
that is nothing. And, please, whenever
Gould you get SO far?"
The young man smiled and thanked her;
re feared he was but poor walker but
liberty TO enter her grounds would be
great boon.
: He spoke SO well that Clara turned to
Mr.. Hunt, as they parted, to ask his his
ory.
Just a poor clerk out of Millfield, dy-
ng of consumption" said the clergyman
We have many such here; the air is
considered good, and they send them out |
% us-generally to die, though"
Gould not do something for him?" |
he continued; would better advice save |
lin?"
Nothing will save him." said Mr. !
Hunt; "you could please him, though, |
ny now and then sending him few |
lowers"
ooh, thank you. indeed / willr' said
Miss Marchant heartily. And fruit, |
night I? Would he be vexed?"
Il am sure he would not. But sup |
pose, some day, you look in on his
nother-a simple, lady-like person, who |
S devoted to him. 1t is too far for Mrs. |
reeds sympathy. Now for the fernery."
But Clara could not think of her ferns;
he patient, suffering face of the con
,umptive man haunted her.
She ordered a basket of the finest |
to be gathered for him, and
vent herself to the gardener to order a
bouquet for tomorrow
Il shall make point of calling on
Mrs Lawrence" she said, as Mr.. Hunt |
eft.
There was no fear now that this poor |
sufferer would need such solace as gay
lowers, ripe fruits and kind sympathy |
,OuId furnish him. Clara Marchant was |
! good friend when her interest was |
-eally aroused in any one, and Mrs |
Lawrence and her sick son were eager
m praise of the mistress of Barton |
Towers.
"Your roses have given such pleasure
it the Wood cottage" said Mr.. Hunt one
law. chat must ask you for few more
white this time Farmer Mays only
.irifd, a little girl of i've, has died sud- |
lenly Of Group, and I want some flowers |
o put around her"